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r
E
C,;..
r
OAHADIAH OOP^lk^.^i^'^ •X!-^^^
Soldiers Three The
Story of the Gadsbys
In Black and White
BY
Rudyard Kipling
Author Of - The Day's T^wk." " The Seven Sets/'
"The Janffle Books, ete." ^
lP-99
TOBONTO
GEORGE N. MORANG ft COMPANY. Lte,**-"
Works by Mr. Kipling
Messrs. George N. Morang & Co. are enabled to
announce the following excellent and inexpensive
Canadian editions of the following work, by Mr.
Kiplmg. lamo. Cloth, $,.oo; Paper, 50c. each.
The Light That Failed
Plain Tales from the Hills
Life's Handicap
Soldiers Three
Under the Deodars
Departmental Ditties
Barrack-Room Ballads
Also
The Seven Seas. Crown Svo. Cloth, ornamental,
gilt top, $1.50. '
From Sea to Sea n^.u
^a w oea. Cloth, 12 mo. 2 vols.,
4>i.oo per vo!.
The Day's Work, with eight fuii-page iiius-
trations. Crown 8vo, Cloth, gilt top, $i..o-
Paper, 75c. *- •*' 5 »
AT ALL BOOKSELLERS OR POST-PAID FROM
George N. Morang & Company, Limited
to
ve
[r.
SOLDIERS THREE
THE STORY OF THE GADSBYS
IN BLACK AND WHITE
Soldiers Three
The Story of the
Gadsbys
In Black and White
By Rudyard Kipling
A$Ukor 0/ "The Day« Work."
"The Seven Se««."
•' The Jungle Booke," etc.
TORONTO
GEORGE N. MORANG & COMPANY, Limited
Nbw York
DOUBLEDAY & McCLURE CO.
"899
■
CONTENTS
Tm God raoK thb MAoanra ... '*"
Or Thobb Callbd *
Pbitam Lbabotd'i Stobt , ,* ^
Th» Bio Drukk Dka»' . .* ,* *'
Thb Wkbck or thb Vmiooth .[.[*'' ^
Thb Solid Mdldoon ...
With thb Maik Guabd . .* .' **
Iw THE Matter or a Pbitati ...*'**' *^
Black Jack . , ^^
PooB Deab Mamma . , ' ^
The Wobld withodt , * • • • . Ill
The Tehts op Kbdab . .' ! *^
With Ant Amazembnt . ! [ *^
The Qabdbn or Eoiir , . ^*^
Fatima ... ^^*
The Vallet or the Shadow .',[''' ^^^
TiTE Swbllimo or Jobdah . . ^^
I>iUT Waba Yow Dbb ,'.[[*''' ^^
The JoDOMBirr or Ddkoaba , ,* ^^^
At Howli Thaka . .
Gemini ...
At Twenty-Two , . ^
Ik Flood Timb . , **'
Thb Sendiho or Daha Da . * ' * * * ' *^^
Om the City Wall . *^
. 2»
IS
1
t
J
f
THE GOD FROM THE MACHINE
Hit a man an* help a woman, an' ye can't be far wrong anyways.
— Maxims of Private Mulvaney. "J^waya.
The Inexpressibles gave a ball. They borrowed a
seven-pounder from i^-^ Gunners, and wreathed it with
laurels, and made ix.o dancing-floor plate-glass, and
provided a supper, the like of which had never been
eaten before, and set two sentries at the door of the
room to hold the trays of programme-cards. My friend,
Private Mulvaney, was one of the sentries, because he
was the tallest man in the regiment. When the dance
was fairly started the sentries were released, and Pri-
vate Mulvaney went to curry favour with the Mess
Sergeant in charge of the supper. Whether the Mess
Sergeant gave or Mulvaney took, I cannot say. All
that I am certain of is that, at supper-time, I found
Mulvaney with Private Ortheris, two-thirds of a ham,
a loaf of bread, half a pdtS-de-foie-gras, and two mag-
nums of champagne, sitting on the roof of my carriage.
As I came up I heard him saying —
^Praise be a danst doesn^t come as often as Ord'lv-
room or, by this an' that, Orth'ris, me son, I wud be
the dishgrace av the rig'mint instid av the brightest
]ool in uts crown. '
^^Sand the Colonel's pet noosance,' said Ortheris.
"Ut wot makes you cui-se your rations? This 'ere
hzzy stuff's good enough.'
B I
f
1
THE GOD TROM THE «..
■''?™'»' /What i. „t r '^--"''^ 3iok wid •;";:'-, J
^oose liver ' T -^
^i^^ge, for I t„' ^^^^ olimhing on the top of th«
^^ulvaney than fL '* '^''^^ better to L ^^''■
TV ,. *^ ^''ince manv r7o ®^*= out with
(^oose liver is „f o , . -^ ^^^ces. '*^^^^
He ,vud ffiv^ il ''*•>'« "« warm an' tT " ^*"' '''^
-• "I » lu STT ' '"- - L '''';^t1"'""•
°■^''e-».etendr c"b f " ^" *«'• »"• itr
»««-• Von 1^ ^""'"''^ water-butte fl ^'''' '"^^ *«»
M..a„5r--.,.„,,,„,-^^a^God^^^
^ Say you so? Now T' '
trouble wid »t^!u^' '*'^'>sn't wy own bnf r . ,
■nessin' wid f f""" "^ "* ^aaf ^' , * ^'-^^ "ore
siin
-fciear
ampagne we're
'^"- 'Tisthis
ather in it. j
^^d it in the
'P of the car-
sit out with
'I^aith, I'n,
'r to cut up
undher his
Ji§;hts chilJ.
'Tis he sez
;id that he
^^k as iver
elf in the
'e was too
>d-fearing
' you did,
'uel hard
' him in
they are
the peg
on av a
fious
Who;
se
^ more
^way,
Hear
THE GOD FROM THE MACHINE 3
now!' He settled himsfelf at ease on the top of the
carriage. 'I'll tell you all about ut. Av coorse I will
name no names, for there's wan that's an orf'cer's lady
now, that was in ut, and no more will I name places,
for a man is thracked by a place.'
'Eyahl ' said Ortheris lazily, 'but this is a mixed
story wot's corain'.'
'Wanst upon a time, as the childer-books say, I was
a recruity. '
'Was you though?' said Ortheri«; 'now that's extry-
ordinary I ' ^ j
'Orth'ris,' said Mulvaney, 'av you opin thim lips av
yours again, I will, savin' your presince, Sorr, take you
by the slack av your trousers an' heave you.'
'I'm mum, ' said Ortheris. 'Wot 'appened when you
was a recruity?'
'I was a betther recruity than you iver was or will be,
but that's neither here nor there. Thin I became a man,
an' the divil of a man I was fifteen yeurs ago. They
called me Buck Mulvaney in thim days, an', begad,
I tuk a woman's eye. I did that! Ortheris, ye scrub,
fwhat are ye sniggerin' at ? Do you misdoubt me ? '
'Devil a doubt! ' said Ortheris; 'but I've 'eard sum-
mat like that before!'
Mulvaney dismissed the impertinence with a lofty
■wave of his hand and continued—-
'An' the orf'cers av the rig'mint I was in in thim
days waB orf'cers — gran' men, wid a manner on 'em,
an' a way wid 'em such as ia^i^t made these days — all
but wan — wan o' the capt'ns. A bad dhrill, a wake
!r!V^' ^ ^"^^ leg — thim three things are the signs
man. You bear that in voui- mind, O
me son.
your
ris.
?
li
ll
P"yavmen like the CaDt'tf T ""^^ ^» 'he natol
-« to her, though thet^;-J»J« ^ "«ti„. ;;"™?
Stop a minute, Mulvanev ^ 'T *^^»' ^^n child. '
, . ' Up my back, an' in ^ ""i leel/ Av coorsA
^f- av the nect _;C Whl tt^' ''"' « ">« «C
;™ o" duty an' the reg'CZJ "^^ ""^'y^ ^Wn
fi«t I^an „e eye ovl .~ " r""^" "^"i "1^11 -Tn' wV**
t rct:^^:Tr»* "« c-e tot:!!^.^f "' "-
-4^van4:n^JS-e«-aveo<,*Crre^
^ndLlnrtra:TSt\rr1"^^^^^^^ -' "an- '
f e, poor innocint, lookS" !,ft.*^'''°''«''» ''""ghter an'
» av a black moustache. n.n' k. !1^. "* ^^hl% little
' - "- ^v^^stea an' turned
8- daughter—
■up-an'-cany-
^ the natural
tastin' payin»
we an* over,
But he niver
he throuble,
;n child.'
'u the world
a scornful
''s pleasure
I'ninst me,
^ou to pick
Av coorse
the short
ejes whin
Know!
rreat dale
6 the use
t^et-nurse
w a bad
in' whin
' Militia
hill"__
8 combs
Terence
^' blan-
ker, an'
ssariat
^little
urned
THE GOD PROM THE MACHINE 5
ivry wurrd he used as av he found ut too sweet for to
spit out. Eyahl He was a tricky man an' a liar by
natur'. Some are born so. He was wan. I knew he
was over his belt in money borrowed from natives;
beside^ a lot av other matthers which, in regard for your
presince, Sorr, I will oblitherate. A little av fwhat I
knew, the Colonel knew, for he wud have none av him
an' that, I'm thinkin', by fwhat happened aftherwards!
the Capt'in knew.
* Wan day, bein' mortial idle, or they wud never ha'
thriedut, the rig'mint gave amsure theatricals— orf'cera
an' orf'cers' ladies. You've seen the likes time an*
agm, Sorr, an' poor fun 'tis for them that sit in the back
row an' stamp wid their boots for the honour av the
rig'mint. I was told off for to shif ' the scenes, haulin*
up this an* draggin* down that. Light work ut was,
wid lashins av beer and the gurl that dhressed the
orf'cers' ladies -but she died in Aggra twelve years
gone, an' my tongue's gettin' the betther av me. They
was actin' a play thing called Sweethearts, which you
may ha' heard av, an' the Colonel's daughter she was a
lady's maid. The Capt'n was a boy called Broom —
Spread Broom was his name in the play. Thin I saw
— ut come out in the actin' — fwhat I niver saw before,
an' that was that he was no gentleman. They was too
much together, thim two, a-whishperin 'behind the scenes
I shifted, ar' some av what they said I heard; for I was
death — blue death an' ivy — on the comb-cuttin'. He
was iverlastin'ly oppressing her to fall in wid some
sneakm' schame av his, an' she was thi-yin' to stand out
against him, but not as though she wa.s set in her will.
I wonder now in thim days that my ears did not grow a
yard on mo head wid list'nin'. But I looked straight
« THE GOD FROM THE MACHDJE
fominst me an' hauled up this an' .Iragged down that
notner, thinkin I was out av listen-reach: "Fwhatan
'Wasn't till the dhresstw ^that T^s^t
evJon • ''" *""" '^' ''^— ''''d P"' "P »
'A what?' said I.
I c'anTT/? I ^^'''* ^™ <"*" "» ^'^P^-^i^t. E-yasion
an' prol 'h""' '""'P'?' "'^'° '"^ "S''' »' natu^
chiwT ' 'f 7™°g »°' dhirty to steal a man's wan
Saiinf n"ft p""'"', ""^ """ "•'"<»■ There IZZ
sargmi in the Comm'ssariat who set my faee uno^
e-v^io„s. I'll tell you about that '^ ^°
Orthert-P*' ""'""'"' ^"P*^'"'' Mulvaney,' said
urthens; Comm'ssariat Sargints is low.'
Muljaney accepted the amendment and went on:-
thaf Z f T *\"* *' ^°'°"^1 ^^ "» f"0l. any more
an the Colonel was the best orf 'cer command in' in '
w;abe^i.^;:^Lrr:^.-^----^^^^^^
But I nxyer sthruok. niyer ntised me hand on m^Thu-
THE GOD PROM THE MACHINE 7
^Mhtf r "' "'"' ^-^ ^ '"^™'-- J -e to
'Mulvaney, the dawn's risin'/ said Ortheri, '»n'
we're no nearer 'ome than we ^as at the be"nnin'
Lend me your pouch. Mine's all dust. ' ^ "
^^Mnlvaney pitehed his pouch over, and filled his pipe
I it cttiourr'f 'T:'.""™^ '» "" -<'' '">'. bel^aze
was em ous, I stayed behind whin the soene-shifti,.'
was ended, an' I shnd ha' been in barrieks, yt • t fl t
a. a toad under a painted cottage thin^ Thev wL
If ^"1^^^^^ ""• »he was Ihiverin' an' Ipl^
like a fresh-hukked fish "a,.^ gaspm
hangavthe manewvet ?"sez hJ ^ ""! ^"" ™ ^"^ *«
o « "lauewvers r sez he, or wurrds to t.hnt pfFo^.'
as the coort-martial se.. "Sare as death!^ ez she "b„;
I misdoubt 'tis cruel hard on my father" " n!
fathpr " Q^-, 1,^ •'^ Adiner. Damn your
lather, sez he, or anyways 'twas fwhat he thought
the arrangement is as clear as mud. Jungi w 11 df vt
™ ^wr;or's:^^!t[t^'.";h"t r"" -"--^
"thin fi.^ . . . ^iiitn. thmks I to mvself
thrn there s a ayah in the business tu I "
A powerful bad thins is a nvnt, r.„ u
have any thruek wid wiS Thlt .^"" * y""""^"'
her, an' all the orf'cersi' »fW lad&'^r '
put out the lights. To exok n T. If '' "" ^''^^
«^ they say at MusktLv '"^ "'' """"s''*'
afther this^^.,1"* i'Z:/.™ '"™' ""^erstand that
anther little birx^—::ix;r^^
av couple or another. The gnrl was fc:ti„' irt^L but
the trl^kit a 7''T' ^'^ '" "> *" ^^
I' lo ^,uri s Kit at the end av the fir^^^ -,v_„ ,rp ^,
J^itthat flnsthered me, for I kn^foCcJrt: go^
8
THE OOD PROM THE MACHINE
nCil^v"' ""' ''"'"™ ^"* *« ^'^ knew what ay
a<r«« on h.3 arrum was nefarious, an' wud be woree
Old on, Mulvaney. Wofs tru,or said Oitheris
mJZ "" « V"r "'^^-^ ™"' "•« «<»>• Whin a Zr,
mrned, all her kit an' 'contrements are tru.o, fh ch
manes wedd.n'-portion. An' 'tis the same whin she's
Ar^; Lir ^^^" "'<• '"« "S^-* blackguard on tie
'So I made my plan av campaign. The Colonel's
house was a good two miles away. "Dennis '' eez I to
mycolour-sargint, "av you love me lendmey;u kya:^
knt ^ wS ''*T' "* ">« «»«•" An' Dennis
shafts. Whin they was all settled down to their
SweHheart.hr the first scene, which was a long wan
I slips outo.de and into the kyart. Mother av S
bu I made that ho.«e walk, an' we came Into the
Co onel's compound as the divil wint through Athlone
sTrvintrat°V'^- . ^"^.'^'^ "° °"« *«™ -"ipt the
gW's Sa^ "" ™"'"' '^ '^'' '^"'^ '^' ^"""^ the
th»7t'''*°'' ^r^^" J«^«hel," sez I, "sellin' your mas-
thers honour for five rupees -pack up all the mL
bahib^ kit an' look slippy, Oa/t'n SaL'> oZ,"Z
laid rnvfi^ ! '**""" """ "«'" I ««^' »»' ^id that I
ner I wi"^'' *" ""^ '"^'' ^' '~'^«'J *''« ^''hamin' sin-
"'^ote a.%," says she; so I knew she was in the
learnt in the bazars on to this she-buUock, an' prayed
av her to put all the oniek =!>■. tn— ;-,t- tZ ■,■
- -J — «.,«. ,j,^,^ Bjicw into tne tJiiii^.
THE GOD FROM THE MACHINE 9
While she packed, I stud outside an' sweated, for I was
wanted for to shif the second scene. I tell you a
young gurl's e-vasion manes as much baggage as a rilf.
mint on the line av march I "Saints help Dennis's
Tl'u u ^°^' '' ^' ^ ^""^^'^ *^^ «t"ff i^to the thmp,
for I '11 have no mercy I " ^
*"I'm comin' too," says the ayah.
*"No. you don't," sez I, " later -;,..Ay/ You baito
where you are. I'll pechy come an' bring you sarL
along with me, you maraudin' "-niver mind fwhat I
called her.
*Thin I wint for the Gaff, an' by the special ordher
/T T';.^^' ^ ^^ ^°^"' ^ g°°d ^o^k you will
ondersthand, Dennis's springs hild toight. "Now
whm the Capt'n goes for that kit," thinks I, "he'll bl
throubled.'' At the end av Sweethearts off the Capt'n
runs in his kyart to the Colonel's house, an' I sits down
on the steps and laughs. Wanst an' again I slipped in
to see how the little piece wa^ goin', an' whin ut was
near endin I stepped out all among the carriages an'
smgs out very softly, "Jungil" Wid that a carr'^e
began to move, an' I waved to the dhriver. « Sitherao ' "
sez I, an' he Mtheraoed till I judged he was at proper
distance, an' thin I tuk him, fair an' square betune L
eyes, all I knew for good or bad, an' he dhropped wid a
guggle like the canteen beer-engine whin ut's runnin'
low Thm I ran to the kyait an' tuk out all the kit an'
piled It into the carr'ge, the sweat runnin' down my
face indhrops. "Go home," sez I, to the sais; "you'll
find a man close here. Very sick he is. Take him
T^r ^\,^7yo^ iversay wan wurrd about fwhat you've
dekkoed, I'll marrow yon ti'll ^^ovr owr -v^'a - ' ■
, J-- ^"^ J '^r own wue won c sumjao
who you are I Thin I heard the stampin' ay feet at
10
THE OOD PROM THE MACHINB
heLu r^ .^"^ "" """^ °"t the gurl thried to hide
herael behind wan av the piUare, an' uoz •' Jungi " ;„ ,
vo.ce that wouldn't ha' scared a hare. I run ove to
an'i^v:'u;'rirh:tr ' "■^ ^^^' - -« - -^
<«rf r*?"'''^".?' '■■ "»°'"S *» *e station? (?«„-
cam *yaAi6'« order " an' wiflrMif „ • i . ^
all among her own ki^ "^" "*" ^"'"^'^ '"
oeiore the Colonel was there, an' she screamed an' I
thought she was goin' off. Out comes the avTh s»vin»
a sm^ av things alK,ut the Capfn havin' Zt ITZ
icitan gone to the station.' « ^ur me
mu2f;our'"' '"'''^'' ^°" *^^" ^ !• "" ra
'The Ughts av the thraps people oomin' from the
an that, the way thim two women worked at the bundles
an thrunks was a caution I I was dvin' to iJTh,
seein' I didn, want to be known, Is^'^dlhe Lke'
rr: tttts^^ ""' ''"^'' "^^ '-"^ *--« '^
JuLtofbut r '".*' ^""^ "S"'"' ^ "^'^ '"ted for
Xrl ^™'' tomenjus in the opp'sits way from
the other carr'ge an' put out my lighte PresintlV^
^dl Jrt ?V^" ^ suspicioned Providence was
lir/ ^"^^ *** "«•"• 'Twas Jungi, his nos^
smashed m flat, all dumb sick as you please^ Dennta's
man m„3t have tUted him out av the ftrap. Wh"n he
ome t», "HuttI" sez I, but he be<,a„ tn h^^j ^^
THE GOD FROM THE MACHINB
n
*»- You black lump av dirt," I sez, " is this the way you
dhnve yonv gharri? That tikka has been <jwirC an'
fere-owirC all over the bloomin' country this whole
bloomin' night, an' you as mut-walla as Davey's sow
Get up, you hog I " sez I, louder, for I heard the wheels
av a thrap in the dark ; "get up an' light your lamps,
or you'll be run into I " This was on the road to the
Railway Station.
» "Fwhat the divil's this? "sez the Capt'n's voice in
the dhark, an' I could judge he was in a lather av rage.
'''Gharri dhriver here, dhrunk, Sorr," sez I; "I've
found his gharri sthrayin' about cantonmints, an' now
I've found him."
'"Oh!" sez the Capt'n ; «f what's his name?" I
stooped down an' pretended to listen.
* " He sez his name's Jungi, Sorr," sez I.
'"Hould my harse," sez the Capt'n to his man, an'
wid that he gets down wid the whip an' lays into Jungi,
just mad wid rage an' swearin' like the scutt he was.
'I thought, afther a while, he wud kill the man, so I
sez: — "Stop, Sorr, or you'll murdher him I" That
dhrew all his fire on me, an' he cursed me into Blazes,
an' out again. I stud to attenshin an' saluted: —
"Sorr," sez I, "av ivry man in this wurruld had his
rights, I'm thinkin' that more than wan wud be beaten
to a jelly for tliis night's work — that niver came off at
all, Sorr, as you see?" "Now," thinks I to myself,
" Terence Mulvaney, you've cut your own throat, for
he 11 sthrike, an' you'll knock him down for the good av
his owl an' your own iverlastin' dishgrace I "
'iiut the Capt'n never said a single wurrd. He
choked where he stud, an' thin ho w«nf ;«t^ u;„ i.v__
widout sayin' good-night, an' I wint back to barricks.'
]>
THK OOD FROM niF. MACHINB
And then ' said OrtherU and I together.
That was all ' sai.l M„lv.„ey; .„tyoT another word
TJ "''' *" "'""" *'"«• All I know ZZ.
there was no e-vasion, an' that was fwhat T^n^d
^ow, I put ut to you, Sorr, is ten days' C B a fit^^''
r„ir.i-\,^r' "*"* *^'""'™' ''"s^n't this 'ere
Co onel s daughter, an' you wa. bla.in' copped when
you tried to wash in the Fort Ditch '
•That,' said Mulvaney, finishing the champagne 'is a
Bhurarfluoue an' impert'nint observation.' ^
'*:w
OF THOSE CALLED 1
We were wallowing through the China Seas in a
dense fog, the horn blowing every two rainutoH for the
benefit of the fishery craft that crowded th*> waterways.
From the bridge tlie fo'c'sle was invisible; from the
hand-wheel at the stern the captain's (abiii. The fog
Jield possession of everything — the pearly white fog.
Once or twice when it tried to lift, we saw a ,'limpse of
the oily sea, the flitting vision of a junk's sail spread in
the vain hope of catching the breeze, or the buoys of a
line of nets. Somewhere close to us lay the 1 md, but
it might have been the Kurile Islands for aught we
knew. Very early in the morning there passed us, not
a cable's-length away, but as unseen as the sprits of
the dead, a steamer of the same line as ours. She
howled melodiously in answer to our bellowing and
passed on.
'Suppose she had hit us,' said a man from Sa cron.
* Then we should have gone down,' answered the liief
officer sweetly. "Beastly thing to go down in a ; .g,'
said a young gentleman who was travelling for pleas-
ure. ' Chokes a man both ways, y' know.' We were
comfortably gathered in the smoking-room, the weather
being to. cold to venture on the deck. Conversati .n
naturally turned upon accidents of fog, the horn toot-
ing significantly in the pauses between the tales. I
18
14
OF THOSE CALLED
heard of the wreck of the Eric, the cutting down of
the Strathnairn within half a mile of harbour, and the
sSnTHoot ''^ '^" ''''-' ^^ *^^ '^^^•--^ -*■
'It is astonishing,' said the man from Saigon, 'how
many true stories are put down as sea yarns. It makes
a man almost shrink from telling an anecdote.'
'Oh, please don't shrink on our account,' said the
smoking-room with one voice.
'It's not my own story,' said the man from Saigon.
A fellow on a Massageries boat told it me. He had
been third officer of a sort on a Geordie tramp-one of
those lumbermg, dish-bottomed coal-barges where the
machmery is tied up with a string and the plates are
rrvetted with putty The way he told his%ale was
othei with a chart ten years old and the haziest sort of
chronometers when she got into a fog- just such a fog
as we nave now.' °
. ?r'i *^",,«"^«ki"^-room turned round as one man,
and looked through the windows.
,w^^ f f^^^^'« own words, "just when the fog was
thickest, the engines broke down. They had been doing
this for some weeks, and we were too weary to care. I
went forward of the bridge, and leaned over the side,
wondering where I should ever get something that I
could call a ship, and whether the old hulk would fall
to pieces as she lay. The fog was as thick as any
London one, but as white as steam. While they were
tinkering at the engines below, I heard a voice in the
fog about twenty yards from the ship's side, calling
out, ' Can you climb on board if we throw you a rope?'
xudL 8„„..vx^{i me, beuiiusu a lauciea we were going to
OF THOSE CALLED ^^
be run down the next minute by a ship engaged in res-
cuing a man overboard. I shouted for the engine-room
whistle; and it whistled about five minutes, but never
the sound of a ship could we hear. The ship's bov
came forward with some biscuit for me. As he put it
into my hand, I heard the voice in the fog, cryin^ out
about throwing us a rope. This time it was the boy
that yelled, 'Ship on us I ' and off went the whistle
again while the men in the engine-room - it generally
took the ships crew to repair the ffespa^s ^nainesl
tumbled upon deck to know what we were doing. I
told them about the hail, and we listened in the smother
of the fog for the sound of a screw. We listened for
ten minutes, then we blew the whistle for another ten.
Then the crew began to call the ship's boy a fool, mean-
ing that the third mate was no better. When thev
were going down below, I heard the hail the third time,
so did the ships boy. 'There you are,' I said, 'it is
not twenty yards from us.' The engineer sings out,
'I heard it too! Are you all asleep?' Then the
crew began to swear at the engineer; and what with
discussion, argument, and a little swearing, — for there
18 not much discipline on board a tramp, ~ we raised
such a row that our skipper came aft to enquire I
the engineer, and the ship's boy stuck to our tale!
ZTr\T '^''''''' '^'^ *^^ ^"P*^^"' '3^«^'d better
patch the old engines up, and see if you've got enough
steam to whistle with. I've a notion that we've got
into rather too crowded ways.*
'"The engineer stayed on deck while the men went
down below. The skipper hadn't got back to the
chart-room before I saw thirty feet of bowsprit hang-
ing over the break of the fo'c'sle. Thirty feet of
16
OF THOSE CALLED
^rexlTL'T'' f ""^ *° ""y*""S '"^^ -«« the
seas except a sailing-ship or a man-of-war. I specu
latcd quite a long time, with my hands on the M
warks. as to whether our friend wa^s soft wood » sS
plated. It would not have made much difference to us
anyway; but I felt there was more honourTn ZZ
rrr-.""r;ene?oy '^iT ^ ^^ " "
-we opened out. si^fe TUZtr'rf:^^
8h,p on us two-thirds through, a little behind the bTak
of the fo'c'ele. Our decks split up lengthways. Thr
her ihin^n^ w"/''P "'" " *°S-horn. I remem^
her thmkmg, as I tqok water from the port bulwark
that th>s was rather ostentatious after she had done ^1
sea, trying to go to sleep as hard as I could. Some
one caught hold of my hair, and waked me up fZ
hanging to ^hat was left of one of our boats under The
lee of a large English ironclad. There were two men
with me; the three of us began to yell. A man on"he
5 ;Z rK^'" ^°" f"^" o- "^""-i « - *row
you a rope ? They weren't going to let down a fin„
new man-of-war's boat to pick up^hree half drowned -
rats. We accepted the invitation. We climbed -I
ater the fog cleared entirely; except for the half of
to nron'tr '° f' f °^' *''^™ "^ °^'*« «'-t nor
stmg on the sea to show that the Mespa had been cut
m-^froml^o: """ '"^ " "'^' "-^' ^^-^ ^^
PRIVATE LEAROYD'S STORY
And he told a tele. _ ChmnMes of Sautama Buddha.
Fae from the haunts of Company Offloera who insist
upon k.t..„specti„ns, far from keen-nosed Sergrnts X
smff the pipe stuffed into the bedding-roll, two miles
from the tumult of the barracks, lies fhe Trap. Tt is
did Private OrtU:iIrC:„;Cmra;^S
for such possessions, dead and living/as couldnotSy
be introduced to the barra^k-room. Here weregattetd
HoudinpuUets and f„x.terrie:« ot undoubted peK
inveterate poacher and pre-eminent among a regiment
of neat-handed dog-stealers. ^ regiment
Never again will the long h,zy evenings return wherein
Ortheris whist ing softly, moved sur|eon.wise among
the captives of his craft at the bottom of the 3
when Learoyd sat in the niche, giving sage coin i
on the management of 'tykes,' and Mulvaney, from the
boots in benediction above our heads, delighting us
with tales of Love and War «n^ .t™„ ""gming us
of cities and men ' ''"""«" experiences
tS'^^^t ~ '*"^'^ *' ^ " *« ' l'"'e stuff bird-shop •
.__ ^„..r „^ux xuiigeu; i^earoyd — back a^ain in
the smoky, stone-ribbed North, amid the clang of the
17
18
PRIVATE LEAEOYD'S STORY
If' n
II >
Bradford looms ; Mulvaney ~ grizzled f fin^«. a
Trap I ^ ^ ^ ''*™ *<"'S°"«" "Id days in the
nice. But she »<js a laadv. Whv a),»,„j . "'" "opsRy
an' good 'osse., too, an' L wL tw ?r'™^''
patet t fit T'C^'Zt' " ^^^^ ^"''"^•' 0' -
DeSussa an' f^ „^'"\''''° ''«'«• Her name was Mra.
w.ar/o"oi^xrc;^,;«--
trjrei.rtri£7^^^^^
She hed bairns of her aj but th« '" » Christian.
tespectin' Th! ^antonment Magistrate coom round
but W^; ,1 1 ^"^"""^ '""*''»'« •'i" ""oe or twice
C m11 ""> "" .^'P* "" Sooin- his roundr^:
^^rl^a iZlTl "" '* ""^ ^'"' fl^g^gnaUin' ^ f
and ttiXn , ' ^ Z' 'tC "c"„ir^ ««'»■' ^»''
^o«, ^ „s noa wonder yon laady, Mrs. DeS^l^a;
5r, and very
f a Central
lays in the
than other
ut a Hew-
bit doosky
a carriage,
ed as you
I rings an'
un 'a' cost
igh o' one
was Mrs.
id wi' her
est picter
He could
-^aady set
Christian.
England,
in' as be-
habit o'
t' plaice
a round
r twice,
nds, wi'
n' to t'
ank yo',
c^as noa
clipper
'eSussa,
PRIVATE LEAROYD'S STORY jn
Should t«k a fancy tiv him. Theer's one o' t' Ten Com-
mandments says yo maun't cuvvet your neebor's ox nor
his jackals but it doesn't say nowt about his tarrier
dogs, an happen thot's t' reason why Mrs. DeSussa
cuvveted R^, tho' she went to church r^lar along Tr
her husband who was so mich darker 'at if he hedn't
such a good co^t tiv his back yo' might ha' called him
Jlt^^'l '^^.f ^' *'" ' ^'' °^^^^«^- They said he
addled his brass i' jute, an' he'd a rare lot on it!
Well, you seen, when they teed Rip up, t' poor awd
lad didn t enjoy very good 'elth. So t' Colonel's Laadv
sends for me as 'ad a naame for bein' knowledgeable
about a dog, an' axes what's ailin' wi' him.
*V/hy,' says I, 'he's getten t' mopes, an' what he
wante IS his libbaty an' coompany like 1' rest on us'
wal happen a rat or two 'ud liven him oop. It's low'
mum,' says I, *is rats, but it's t' nature of a dog • an'
soas cuttm' round an' meetin' another dog or two an'
pa^sin' t' tune o' day, an' hevvin' a bit of !Zlup Z
him hke a Christian.' ^
So she says her dog maunt niver fight an' noa Chris-
tians iver fought.
to her t contra,ry qualities of a dog, 'at, when yo' coom
to thmk on%^ one o' f curuseat things as is. Fo^
WW ' '^'^™ *''''"'"^ '"^« S»*'^'°«'' <»^n. fit
fn r / """^P'-y -*hey tell me f Widdy herself
^ fond of a good dog and knaws one when she sees it
as well as onny body: then on f other hand a-tewin'
™nnd after cats an' gettin' mixed oop i' aU manne^o'
blaekguardly streetnrows, an' killin' rats, an' fi.hti^' „i,e
diviis. ' ~° — "^^
T Colonel's Laady says : -•Well, Learoyd, I doan't
i I
11
80
PRIVATE LEAROYD'S STORY
F' '
an- weld a b t „f .T"' "" ^ "="*«' « 1°* »' «•»«
cua get t cat agaate o' runnin'
2^a a„. we wXuibfr.uTdTrr^^^^^^^
an when we loots up there was Mr, " P™"^"™'''
paraael ovver her sbo'u.der/a.rtch"''^ ZyV
she mngs out; 'there's that lovelee dog- Would h«
let me stroke him, Mister Soldier ? • ^ ' ^ ^^
'Ay, he would, mum,' sez I, 'for he'<. fnn^ „• i j .
ooompany. Coom here Rin »„• , '"^^ *
laady; An' RiT iTe^n' W .t° 'P"*'*^ *» ^^is kind
clean awaar, cooms un Hke t' T"^"T ''«'* ^*°
a hauporthX oHkTo!^ ^'°*'^""" ''^ '^"' ""-^
'Oh, you beautiful -you prettee dog I' she sa™
^^rtc:r-;---t:d:;£-^^^^^
JLtl^Lut":^ " sense mebbe thinks nowt on,
__ „„.^„ ^„ „^. i-yajjoji o his breedin'.
PRIVATE LEAROYD'S STORY 3I
An' then I meks him joomp ovver my swagger-cane
an' shek hands, an' beg, an' lie dead, an' a lot o' them
tricks as laadies teeaches dogs, though I doan't hand
with it mysen, for it's makin' a fool o' a good dog to do
such like.
An' at lung length it cooms out 'at she'd been
thrawin' sheep's eyes, as t' sayin' is, at Rip for many
a day. Yo* see, her childer was grown up, an' she'd
nowt mich to do, an' were alius fond of a dog. Soa
she axes me if I'd tek somethin' to dhrink. An' we
goes into t' drawn-room wheer her 'usband was a-settin'.
They meks a gurt fuss ovver t' dog an' I has a bottle o'
aale, an' he gave me a handful o' cigara.
Soa r coomed away, but t' awd lass sings out -- * Oh,
Mister Soldier, please coom again and bring thatprettee
dog.'
I didn't let on to t' Colonel's Laady about Mrs.
DeSussa, and Rip, he says nowt nawther; an' I gooes
again, an' ivry time there was a good dhrink an' a
handful o' good smooaks. An' I telled t' awd lass a
heeap more about Rip than I'd ever heeared ; how he
tuk t' fost prize at Lunnon dog-show and cost thotty-
three pounds fower shillin' from t' man as bred him ; 'at
his own brother was t' propputty 0' t' Prince o' Wailes,
an' 'at he had a pedigree as long as a Dock's. An' she
lapped it all oop an' were niver tired o' admirin' him.
But when t' awd lass took to givin' me money an' I
seed 'at she were gettin' fair fond about t' dog, I began
to suspicion summat. Onny body may give a soldier t'
price of a pint in a friendly way an' theer's no 'arm
done, but when it cooms to five rupees slipt into your
hand, sly like, why, it's what t' 'lectioneerin' fellows
calls bribery an' corruption. Specially when Mrs. De-
22
I I
:i
PRIVATE LEAROYD'S STORY
an- thim fine »il~ I '^^ ,. ^^ *" ""*' good Shrink
lime-kilns, and noS T T ,*^'-"»'' as drjr as
"Twasadhirtythriek J , ' ''"* ^""*«^° P'^g-
should yonrWdthf''^-? * "'""""'«' *»' ^V
«.;>;l av an^bod; ^ho thS in^utr ^^ "»' ^^^
-ow .Hue a f d'::^^^^^^^^!!!'.-
journey.' ' ' ^^- ^^' * gentleman this
M^DesIl ,'T;'Tr7 ""'J^'P ""' - S- to
™r a bit Th^'at fost '"tt""™-^". " «tainger she
f*. an' yo- 4 bel::^ .^lU: J^ t"!^ M-'vaney
lass wal she let out 'at she wanted to tek^ ^'"^
her to Munsooree Pahar. T^"! K?l-^n--^*, "^'^ ^
i,^„iyanujr changes liis
lid soon be
in we was
B Rip any
)e kind tiv
lale thro',
>s,' says *t
my frind
11 save ye
Jman, an'
e wurrds
?gin' his
1 dhrink
here an'
dry as
in plug,
for why
he butt
not the
t's like
'get no
>
kshire-
n this
oes to
er she
vaney
i' awd
ay wi'
es his
PRIVATE LEAROYD'S STORY
23
tune an' axes her solemn-like if she'd thought o' t' con-
sequences o' gettin' two poor but honest soldiers sent t'
Andamning Islands. Mrs. DeSussa began to cry, so
Mulvaney turns round oppen t' other tack and smooths
her down, allowin' 'at Rip ud be a vast better off in t'
Hills than down i' Bengal, and 'twas a pity he shouldn't
go wheer he was so well beliked. And soa he went on,
backin' an' fillin' an' workin' up t' awd lass wal she felt
as if her life warn't worth nowt if she didn't hev t'
dog.
Then all of a suddint he says : — * But ye shall have
him, marm, for I've a feelin' heart, not like this could-
blooded Yorkshireman ; but 'twill cost ye not a penny
less than three hundher rupees.'
* Don't yo' believe him, mum,' says I; 't' Colonel's
Laady wouldn't tek five hundred for him.'
'Who said she would?' says Mulvaney; *it's not
buyin' him I mane, but for the sake o' this kind, good
laady, I'll do what I never dreamt to do in mv life
I'll stale him I ' ^
'Don't say steal,' says Mrs. DeSussa; 'he shall have
the happiest home. Dogs often get lost, you know,
and then they stray, an' he likes me and I like him
as I niver liked a dog yet, an' I must hev him. If
I got him at t' last minute I could carry him off to
Munsooree Pahar and nobody would niver knaw.'
Now an' again Mulvaney loolced acrost at me, an'
though I could mak nowt o' what he was after, I con-
cluded to take his leead.
'Well, mum,' I says, 'I never thowt to coom down
to dog-steealin', but if my comrade sees how it could be
done to oblige a laady like yo'sen, I'm nut t' man to
hod back, tho' it's a bad business I'm thinkin', an' three
24
PRIVATE LEAROYD^S STORT
li 'II
ii ill
that "' thei::Kf rH''"'^ .**■'' «'p'« — «
-liar again f u^, Z^U^Ztt H """ » '"™'
was to be t' day she set offT ^ ''" ""'"• «'Wch
'Sitha, Mulvaney,' ays r l^™"""*" ^'"'"•
'.^Ve nive. goiAr J; C V!' '^^ °"'^"""
he^theraU CetS"' ^ P°" o^.o^aar says
'An- wheer's he to come tkough?' says I
■^made av duff. Isn't oitCTol^' ^T ""'"^
""3t, an' a rale artist wid h"s nt^f^T" ^*^'''^'-
An' what's a Taxidermist but "' '"'"'* ""^'^^
shkins? Do ye mind^llv. . ""'" ^'«' <=»" thrate
Canteen Sar/ntZd'c!: t rim'"£ Itlh'l- T *° *«
h« time an- snarlin' the res " R» \ n V' '"'' '"^f
?«<« now; an' do ye mLd tw ?. **" "« '"«* &'
«We an- size av the cl„»r k^'' ""• ^^'^ «?'* »
, an inch too W In? h^/'^'^' '»™' that his toil is
diva^ifies the rf e Kip an^hfT "" *^ "'"''" *•>»'
B-asther an' wor«e. B^t W "'^'' '^ *^' "^ '"»
tail? An' fwhat M = V • '' *" '"* »» a dog's
ringstraked'lit CT;™"' ' ^f"'™ '^ " ^-
at all, at all.' ' ''""^' »° white ? Nothin'
^wJ^a^rCeThr^'^r r« -n. bein'
"inute. An' he went <■„ ? ''°"^'' *' '"^"^^ m a
-. -t day. ^^^^or^'T:^^^^^^
a
PRIVATE LEAROYD'S STORY 26
an' then he drored all Kip's markin's on t' back of a
white Commissariat bullock, so as to get his 'and in an'
be sure of his colours ; shadin' off brown into black as
nateral^ as life. If Rip hed a fault it was too mich
markin , but it was straingely reg'lar an' Orth'ris set-
tied himself to make a fost-rate job on it when he got
baud o t Canteen Sargint's dog. Theer niver was ^ch
a dog a^ thot for bad temper, an' it did nut get no
better when his tail hed to be fettled an inch an' a half
shorter. But they may talk o' theer Royal Academies
as they hke. / niver seed a bit o' animal paintin' to
beat t copy as Orth'ris made of Rip's marks, wal t'
picter Itself was snarlin' all t' time an' tryin' to get at
Rip standin' theer to be copied as good as goold.
Orth'ris alius hed as mich conceit on himsen as
would lift a balloon, an' he wor so pleeased wi' his
sham Rip he wor for tekking him to Mre. DeSussa
before she went away. But Mulvaney an' me stopped
thot, knowin' Orth'ris's work, though niver so cliver,
was nobbut skin-deep.
An' at last Mrs. DeSussa fixed t' day for startin' to
Munsooree Pahar. We wa« to tek Rip to t' stayshun i'
a basket an' hand him ovver just when they was readv
to start, an' then she'd give us t' brass -as was agreed
upon. ^
An'^ my wodi It were high time she were off, for
them air-dyes upon t' cur's back took a vast of paintin'
to keep t' reet culler, tho' Orth'ris spent a matter o'
seven rupees six annas i' t' best drooggist shops i'
Calcutta.
An' t' Canteen Sargint was lookin' for 'is dog every-
wheer; an', wi' bein' tied nn. f» K^opt'c 4.,v_._ ^.
waur nor ever.
26 PRIVATE LEAROYD'S STORY
few of her relatione ,.n' f -T' ^" °°°'"8 "P »
su Jt^ I that 'TerirdX' s' ^'"i.^r ^^ '--^
the nick av time an' Or^? ^T"' ' ^°« J"'* '°
that ™ade a w»k tv art ouTaTth ?' T'- ^" ^'""«'
nature. Yet W ». T *"*' "^'j piece av iU-
led into fe! n 'LT,;;,: *r^7f «"»• that I was not
beggin' for.' ""^ *^' P"" P«»P'« he's always
But me an' Orth'ris, he bein' n..,-_,
• "o -win vjugjuiey an 1 bein'
PRIVATE LEAROYD'S STORY
27
pretty far north, did nut see it i' t' saame way. We'd
gotten t' brass, an' wo meaned to keep it. An' soa we
did — for a short time.
Noa, noa, we niver heeard a wod more o' t' awd lass.
Our rig'mint went to Pindi, an' t' Canteen Sargint he
got himself another tyke insteead o' t' one 'at got lost so
reg'lar, an' was lost for good at last.
li Iffl
I
THE BIG DRUNK DRAP»
Our ship IS a« the shore,
Ho I H™ * '°°^« t>a°k no mork
^'/'^"^y^^g^^eve forme,
My lovely Maiy Ann,
For I'll marry you yet on a f ourp'ny bit
As a time-expired ma-a-an I ^ "^ ""♦
■Barrack-room Ballad.
not ve.y long ago. has come ba^k to T" ^""^-^.^P'"-"'
It was aU Dinah Shadd's fault Shi T. " "™"""'
the poky little lodgings and ^h/ "'*."''* """ ***'«'
Abdullah n,ore thaf "^rd t„W tdP Th'"/r "'
ceSTnit:,:nd°:::rtUrr »' ^-"^ "-
coo4 fo^ oldTak',^X'"~"'""' "' " ^"^ "^
rupees a n.onth. and Dil" Sha"^; S S i?^*^
did not accept she would mnto »,• rr ^ Terence
ians,' which w»« , ™"'vaneys came out as 'civil-
'Ker'nel on the ra.i.4 "- -^ ^'"^ *■"" '"' ™«
. -iLi..a/ „„„, an a oonsequinshal man.'
THE BIG DRUNK DRAF^
29
He wrote me an invitation, on a tool-indent form, to
visit him ; and I came down to the funny little ' con-
struction' bungalow at the side of the line. Dinah
Shadd had planted peas about and about, and nature
had spread all manner of green stuff round the place.
There was no change in Mulvaney except the change of
clothing, which was deplorable, but could not be helped.
He was standing upon his trolly, haranguing a gang-
man, and his shoulders were as well drilled, and his big,
thick chin was as clean-shaven as ever.
' I'm a civilian now,' said Mulvaney. * Cud you tell
that I was iver a martial man ? Don't answer, Sorr, av
you're strainin' betune a complimint an' a lie. There's
no houldin' Dinah Shadd now she's got a house av her
own. Go inside, an' dhrink tay out av chiny in the
drrrrawin'-room, an' thin we'll dhrink like Christians
undher the tree here. Scutt, ye naygur-folk I There's
a Sahib come to call on me, an' that's more than he'll
iver do for you onless you run ! Get out, an' go on
pilin' up the earth, quick, till sundown.'
When we three were comfortably settled under the
big aisham in front of the bungalow, and the first rush
of questions and answers about Privates Ortheris and
Learoyd and old times and places had died away, Mul-
vaney said, reflectively — 'Glory be there's no p'rade
to-morrow, an' no bun-headed Corp'ril-bhoy to give you
his lip. An' yit I don't know. 'Tis harrd to be some-
thing ye niver were an' niver meant to be, an' all the
ould days shut up along wid your papers. Eyah! I'm
growin' rusty, an' 'tis the will av God that a man
mustn't serve his Quane for time an' all.'
He helped himself to a fresh peg, and sighed furiously.
*Let your beard grow, Mulvaney,' said I, *and then
so
THE BIG DRUNK DBAF'
Z Z^^^""^ ^"-^ ^''^ -t-s. You,, be a
Dinah Shadd had told mp in fT,« ^
minted wid an ontr»ii7*t . Z^"^' ^ '^"'^ •« ^r-
un<^er the chin Ye^'j'jf ^f^'^^''^'.^''* "^^S'""'
Dinah Shadd? By thHame toT "' '^''"^ '""''^'•
after old cCe::^:;^-" '"'^'' ■" -''-s
light^whteyoutct,?^""'' "^ ^^''^"" "^ *>>« Oay.
6 " »»iiiu jfuu ao come — an iinQpffir.' t"^ . « "^
wid your nonsense about -labontftl J^'^^'f' ^^^
forgotten. He bein' a .1 -i *'* """''' ^>^^
aught else. Can Z notl^!^ T' *"* ^"" "'™^ ™
good for Terenc"^ '' *''' Amny rest? >Tis not
templrof hJ;f;^ '*"'™"«^' ^» ^^-^ Shadd has a
'Letbe_letbe,'saidMulvaney. "T;, „„i
m a way I can talk about the ould davs , '"" V*°"
-'Ye say Dhrumshticks is well .TV T 7 *° ""'=
niver knew how I liked th g^y ' ^J" ,/t ^ *"l '
mr 1,;, > A . . &^*j K^irron till 1 wns ah"*
-. .^ -u. ^.a. _ •i.hrumshtioks • was the nicknam;
THE BIG DRUNK DRAf' 31
of the Colonel commanding Mulvaney's old regiment.
— 'Will you be seein' him again? You will. Thin
tell him' — Mulvaney's eyes began to twinkle — •tell
him wid Privit '
'Mister, Terence,' interrupted Dinah Shadd.
'Now the Divil an' all his angils an' the Firmament
av Hiven fly away wid the "Mister," an' the sin av
making me swear be on your confession, Dinah Shadd!
Privit, I tell ye. Wid Privit Mulvaney's best obedi-
ence, that but for me the last time-expired wud be still
pullin' hair on their way to the sea.'
He threw himself back in the chair, chuckled, and
was silent.
'Mrs. Mulvaney,' I said, 'please take up the whiskey,
and don't let him have it until he has told the story.'
Dinah Shadd dexterously wliipped the bottle away,
saying at the same time, "Tis nothing to be proud
av,' and thus captured by the enemy, Mulvaney
spake : — "^
"Twas on Chuseday week. I was behaderin' round
wid the gangs on the 'bankmint — I've taught the hop-
pers how to kape step an' stop screechin'— whin a
head-gangman comes up to me, wid about two inches av
shirt-tail hanging round his neck an' a disthressful light
m his oi. " Sahib, " sez he, " there's a reg'mint an' a half
av soldiers up at the junction, knockin' red cinders
out av ivrything an' ivrybodyl They thried to Jiang
me m my cloth," he sez, '^an' there will be murder an'
rum an' rape in the place before nightfall! They say
they're comin' down here to wake us up. What will
we do wid our women-folk ? "
'"Fetch my thi-oliyi '" sez I; "my heart's sick in ray
ribs for a wink at anything wid the Quane's uniform on
^^W^f
i
i
i
r,
S -Si^
m
82
THE BIG DRUNK DRAF'
fu% *"'' '^^ "^^ "°**'' '*''* ^'"^ S'^*'l "P'oaot-
' 'Twas to do honour to the Widdy. I cud ha' don«
fel '."^r ' ''*'"• ^"^ '""'* youf digreS into"
fere wid the cooi.e av the narrative. Have you iver
consadhered fwhat I wud look like wid me W sWd
aswelj as my ch.n ? You bear that in y„„r mind, Dinl^
thIJ Zi'^ft^ "P ''^ "■""'• *" *° ^«' " ^Muint at
ttat draf . I *„.„ -t^^ ^ spring draf ' goin- home, for
there s no ng'mmt hereabouts, more's the pity. •
Praise the Virgial ' murmured Dinah Shadd But
Mulvaney did not hear. " •^naaa. jjut
'Whin I was about three-quarteis av a mile off the
J^^t^amp powtherin- along fit to bun.t, I heard the
noise av tie men an', on my sowl, Sorr I cud catch
the voice av Peg Barney bellowin' like a bison widte
Comp ny_a red, hairy sciaun, wid a scar on his law?
Peg Barney that cleared out the Blue Lights' JuUke
meeting wid the cook-room mop last year?
Thin I knew ut was a draf ' of the ould rig'mint an'
I was conshumed wid sorrow for the bhoy thaTw^t
charge We was harrd scrapin's at any fime DM ?
iver toll you how Horker Kelley went into clink nakid
as Phoebus ApoUonius, wid the shirte avthe Co^^rft
But rm'd " V >"^Z' ^°' *' -- « -M »-
But I m digreshin'. 'Tis a shame both to the ris'
min^ and the Arrmy sendin' down little orf 'cer bhoys
wid a draf' av strong men mad wid lio-. .ran' th„ .1,..!!
av gettin- shut av India, an' „.W « pmUkm^;^^
THE BIG DRUKK DRAB" 33
fittoie given right down an' away from oantonmint, to the
time, I m undher the Articles ay War, an' can te
mv time 7' \^^ '" *"• ^"' -'>'° ^'^ -™«^
my time, I m a Reserve man, an' the Articles av War
haven t any honld on me. An orf cer can't do anytw"
to a time-expired savin' confinin' him to barricts. 'Tis
a wise rig lation bekaze a time-expired does not have
any barricks; bein' on the move all the time. 'TisI
Solomon av a rig'lation, is that. I wud like to b^
inthroduced to the man that made ut. 'Tis easier to
get eolts from a Kibbereen ho.e-fair into Glir;!:
to take a bad draf over ten miles av country. Consi-
qumtly that rig'lation - for fear that the men wud te
^1' 'VT '^''''' '""'y- No matthei^ The
nearer my throUy came to the rest-camp, the woilder
was the shine, an' the louder was the voice av Peg
Barney. "Tis good I am here," thinks I to mysell'
for Peg alone 13 employmint for two or thiee." He
beii. , I well knew, as copped as a dhrover.
w»', »n"t ***' '•'tTP ""^ * ''Sht! The tent-ropes
the men -fifty av Uum-the scourin's, an' rinsin's, an'
Divil s lavm's av the Ould Rig'mint. I toll you, Soi^,
they were dhrui.„ .■ than any men you've ever seen in
your mortial life. So. does a draf^get dhruTk How
doesafroggetfat? They sukutin through their shkins.
„h J ""^ l'^ Barney sittin' on the groun' in his
shirt -wan shoe off au' wan shoe on-whackin' a
tent-peg over the head wid his boot, an' singin' fit to
wake the dead. 'Twas no clane song that he sung,
tnuugii. xwas me Divil's Mass.'
* What's that?' I asked.
ii
ii'i;
34
THE BIG DRUNK DRAF'
*Whin a bad egg is shut av the Army, he sings the
Divil's Mass for a gpod riddance; an' that manes swear-
in' at ivrything from the Commandher-in-Chief down
to the Room-Corp'ril, such as you niver in your days
heard. Some men can swear so as to make green turf
crack I Have you iver heard the Curse in an Orange
Lodge? The Divil's Mass is ten times worse, an' Peg
Barney was singin' ut, whackin' the tent-peg on the
head wid his boot for each man that he cursed. A
powerful big voice had Peg Barney, an' a hard swearer
he was whin sober. I stood forninst him, an' 'twas
not me oi alone that cud tell Peg was dhrunk as a coot.
*"Good mornin' Peg," I sez, whin he dhrew breath
afther cursin' the Adj'tint Gen'ral; "I've put on my
best coat to see you. Peg Barney," sez I.
*"Thin take ut off again," sez Peg Barney, latherin'
away wid the boot; "take ut off an' dance, ye lousy
civilian I "
* Wid that he begins cursin' ould Dhrumshticks, being
so full he clean disremimbers the Brigade-Major an'
the Judge Advokit Gen'ral.
'"Do you not know me. Peg?" sez I, though me
blood was hot in me wid being called a civilian.'
'An' him a decent married man I' wailed Dinah
Shadd.
'"I do not," sez Peg, "but dhrunk br sober I'll tear
the hide off your back wid a shovel whin I've stopped
singin'."
'"Say you so. Peg Barney?" sez I. "'Tis clear as
mud you've forgotten me. I'll assist your autobiog-
raphy." Wid that I stretched Peg Barney, boot an'
all, an' wint into the camp. An awful sight ut was !
'Where's the orf'cer in charge avthe detachment?"
i(t
THE BIG DRUNK DRAF'
35
sez I to Scrub Greene — the manest little worm that
ever walked.
'"There's no orf'cer, ye ould cook," sez Scrub;
we re a bloomin' Republic."
;"Are you that?" sez I; «thin I'm O'Connell the
Dictator, an' by this you will larn to kape a civil
tongue in your rag-box."
'" Wid that I stretched Scrub Greene an' wint to the
orf cer's tent. 'Twa^ a new little bhoy - not wan I'd
iver seen before. He was sittin' in his tent, purtendin'
not to 'ave ear av the racket.
'I saluted -but for the life av me I mint to shake
hands whin I went in. 'Twas the sword hangin' on
the tent-pole changed my will.
^ *"Can't I help, Sorr?" sez I; "'tis a strong man's
job they ve given you, an' you'll be wantin' help bv
sundown. ' He was a bhoy wid bowils, that child; an'
a rale gmtleman.
*" Sit down," sez he.
*"Not before my orf'cer," sez I; an' I tould him
iwnat m}' service was.
'"I've heard av you," sez he. "You tuk the town
av Lungtungpen nakid."
^ '"Faith," thinks I, "that's Honour an' Glory"- for
twas Lift'nint Brazenose did that job. "I'm wid ve
Sorr sez I, "if I'm av use. They shud niver ha' seni
you down wid the draf. Savin' your presince, Sorr,"
I sez, tis only Lift'nint Hackerston in the Ould
Kig mint can manage a Home draf."
'"I've niver had charge of men like this before," sez
he, playm wid the pens on the table; "an' I see by
the Rig'lations " -^
'"Shut your oi to the Rig'lations, Sorr," I sez, "till
8B
THE BIG DRUNK DRAF'
the throoper's into blue wather. By the Rig'lations
you've got to tuck thim up for the night, or they'll be
runnin' foul av my coolies an' makin' a shiverarium
half through the country. Can you trust your non-
coms, Sorr?"
'"Yes,"8ezhe.
'"Good," sez I; "there'll be throuble before the
night. Are you marchin', Sorr?"
'"To the next statioii,' sez he.
ll'Better still," 867 1; "rSere'll be big throuble."
'"Can't be too harr' m a H me draf," sez he; "the
great thing is to get I iT>i '"n-ship."
'"Faith you've larnt the iialf av your lesson, Sorr,"
sez I, I' but av you shtick to the Rig'lations you'll niver
get thim in-ship at all, at all. Or there won't be a rag
av kit betune thim whin you do."
"Twas a dear little orf'cer bhoy, an' by way avkapin'
his heart up, I tould him fwhat I saw wanst in a draf
in Egypt.'
'Whauwas that, Mulvaney?' said I.
'Siyin an' fifty men sittin' on the bank av a canal,
laughin' at a poor little squidgereen av an orf'cer that
they'd made wade into the slush an' pitch the things
out av the boats for their Lord High Mightinesses.
That made me orf'cer bhoy woild wid indignation.
'"Soft an'aisy, Sorr," sez I; "you've niver had your
draf in hand since you left cantonmints. Wait till
the night, an' your work will be ready to you. Wid
your permission, Sorr, I will investigate the camp, an'
talk to my ould frinds. 'Tis no manner av use thryin'
to shtop the divilmint wow."
'Wid that I wint out into the camp an' inthrojuced
mysilf to ivry man sober enough to remimber me. I
J
THE BIG DRUNK DRAP»
87
was some wan in the ould days, an' the bhoys was glad
to see me -all excipt Peg Barney wid a eye like a
tomata five days in the bazar, an' a nose to match
Ihey come round me an' shuk me, an' I tould thim I
was in privit employ wid an income av me own, an' a
drrrawin -room fit to bate the Quane's; an' wid me lies
in wan way an' another, knockin' roun' the camp.
Twas Jac? even thin whin I was the Angil av Peace.
1 talked to me ould non-coms - ^.^ was sober ^
an betune me an' thim we wore the draf over into
their tents at the proper time. The little orf 'cer bhov
he^comes round, decint an' civil-spoken as might be.
Rough quarters, men,"sez he, "but you can't look
IL^ ? ««^fo^table as in barricks. We must make
the best av things. I've shut my eyes to a dale av dog's
tricks to-day, an' now there must be no more av ut.''
^on " T^ r ""'"• ^^^'^ ^"' ^^^« ^ Shrink, me
son sez Peg Barney, staggerin' where he stud. Me
little orf 'cer bhoy kep' his timper.
Sl2ll\^ sulky swine, you are," sez Peg Barney,
an at that the men in the tent began to laugh
Itouldyoumeorf'cerbhoyhadbowils. He cut Peg
Barney as near as might be on the oi that I'd squshed
whin we fii^t met. Peg wint spinnin' acrost the tent
^ Peg him out, Sorr," sez I, in a whishper.
Peg him out! " sez me orf 'cer bhoy, up loud iust
I,«T' °™r'^ '"'' ^*S Barney -a howlin' handful
Clown, riorht-nhrow'n '\r V'- i. ' r
«onK o ' o:-*^ -nT"""!! — on his stummiek, a tent-peg to
each arm an' leg, swearin' fit to turn a naygur whife.
88
THE BIG DRUNK DRAF'
*I tuk a peg an' jammed ut into his ugly jaw —
"Bite on that, Peg Burney," I sez; "the night is set-
tm' frosty, an' you'll be wantin' divarsion before the
mornin'. But for the Rig'lations you'd be bitin' on a
bullet now at the thriangles. Peg Barney," sez I.
* All the draf ' was out av their tents watchin' Barney
bein' pegged. ^
*"'Ti8 agin the Rig'lations I He strook him!"
screeches out Scrub Greene, who was always a lawyer;
an' some of the men tuk up the shoutin'.
'"Peg out that man I" sez my orf'cer bhoy, niver
losin' his timper; an' the non-coms wint in and pegged
out Scrub Greene by the side av Peg Barney.
'I cud see that the di»af ' was comin' roun'. The men
stud not knowin' fwhat to do.
*"Get to your tents I" sez me orf'cer bhoy. "Sar-
gint, put a sintry over these two men."
'The men wint back into the tents like jackals, an'
the rest av the night there was no noise at all excipt
the stip av the sintry over the two, an' Scrub Greene ,
blubberin' like a child. 'Twas a chilly night, an'
faith, ut sobered Peg Barney.
'Just before Revelly, my orf'cer bhoy comes out an'
sez: "Loose those men an' send thim to their tents I"
Scrub Greene wint away widout a word, but Peg Bar-
ney, stiff wid the cowld, stud like a sheep, thryin' to
make his orf'cer understhand he was sorry for playin'
the goat.
'There was no tucker in the draf whin ut fell in for
the march, an' divil a wurrd about "illegality" cud I
hear.
'I wint to the ould Colour Sargint and I sez : — "Let
me die in glory," sez 1. "I've seen a man this day! "
THE BIG DRUNK DRAF
39
*"A man he i8,"sez ould Hother; "the draf 's as sick
as a herrin'. They'll all go down to the sea like
lambs. That bhoy has the bowils av a cantonmint av
Gin'rals."
'"Amin,"sez I, « an' good luck go wid him, wher-
iver he be, by land or by sea. Let me know how the
draf gets clear."
'An' do you know how they did? That bhoy, so
I was tould by letter from Bombay, bullydamned 'em
down to the dock, till they cudn't call their sowls their
own. From the time they left me oi till they was
'tween decks, not wan av thim was more than dacintly
dbunk. An', by the Holy Articles av War, whin
they wint. aboard they cheered him till they cudn't
spake, an' that, mark you, has not come about wid a
draf in the mim'ry av livin' man I You look to that
little orf'cer bhoy. He has bowils. 'Tis not ivry
child that wud chuck the Rig'lations to Flanders an'
stretch Peg Barney on a wink from a brokin an'
dilapidated ould carkiss like mesilf. I'd be proud to
serve '
'Terence, you're a civilian,' said Dinah Shadd warn-
ingly.
' So I am — so I am. Is ut likely I wud forget ut ?
But he was a gran' bhoy all the same, an' I'm only a
mudtipper wid a hod on my shoulthers. The whiskey's
in the heel av your hand, Sorr. Wid your good lave
we'll dhrink to the Ould Rig'mint — three fingers —
standin' up I'
And we drank.
i
"I
h :' M
THE WRECK OF THE VISIGOTH »
' Eternal Fatlier, strong to save,
Whoso arm hath bound the restless wave.
Who bidst the miglity ocean keep
Its own appointed limits deep.'
The lady passengerB were trying the wheezy old
harmonium m front of the cuddy, because it was Sunday
night. In the patch of darkness near the wheel-grat-
mg sat the Captain, and the end of his cheroot burned
like a head-lamp. There was neither breath nor motion
upon the waters through which the screw was thudding.
They spread, dull silver, under the haze of the moon-
light till they joined the low coast of Malacca away to
the eastward. The voices of the singers at the harmo-
mum were held down by the awnings, and came to us
with lorce.
* Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee,
For those in peril on the sea.'
It was as though the little congregation were afraid
of the vastness of the sea. But a laugh followed, and
some one said, ' Shall we take it through again a little
qmcker? Then the Captain told the story of just such
a night, lowering his voice for fear of disturbing the
music and the minds of the passengers.
'She was the Visigoth, -^ve hundred tons, or it may
have been six, -in the coasting trade ; one of the best
steamers and best found on the Kutch-Kasauli line.
i Copyright, lb<J6, by Maomillan & Oo
40
THE WRECK OF THE VISIGOTH 41
She wasn't six years old when the thing happened : on
just such a night as this, with an oily smooth sea, under
brilliant starlight, about a hundred miles from land.
To this day no one knowo really what the matter was.
She was so small that she could not have struck oven a
log in the water without every soul on board feeling
the jar; and oven if she had struck something, it
wouldn't have made her go down as she did. I was
fourth officer then; v<e had about seven saloon passen-
gers, including the Captain's wife and another woman,
and perhaps five hundred deck-passengers going up the
coast to a shrine, on just such a night as this, when she
was ripping through the level sea at a level nine knots
an hour. The man on the bridge, whoever it was, saw
that she was sinking at the head. Sinking by the head
as she went along. That was the only warning m got.
She began to .& a, she went along. Of course the
Captain was told, and he sent me to wake up the saloon
passengers and tell them to come on deck. 'Sounds a
curious sort of message that to deliver on a dead still
night. The people tumbled up in their dressing-
gowns and pyjamas, and wouldn't believe me. We
were just sinking as fast as we could, and I had to tell
em that. Then the deck-passengers got wind of it,
and all Hell woke up along the decks.
*The rule in these little affairs is t( get your saloon
passengers off first, then to fill the boats with the
balance, and afterwards — God help the extras, that's
all. I was getting the starboard stern boat — the maU-
boat — away. It hung as it might be over yonder, and
as I came along from the cuddy, the deck-passengers
hunff round mo alir>in«« +V.rx;« — ,, i.-t • •
hand, taking off their nose-rings and earrings, and
42
THE WBECK OP THE VISIGOTH
thrusting em upon me to buy just one chance for life. If
I hadn t been so desperately busy, I should have thought
It homble. I put biscuits and water into the boat, and
go the two ladies in. One of 'em was the CaptX^
wife. She had to be put in by main force. You've no
notion how women can struggle. The other woman
was the wife of an officer going to meet her husband;
and there were a couple of passengers beside the las-
cars. The Captam said he was going to stay with the
t?,\Jn r *?' "^' " *''*^« "ff"™' I believe, is
that the Captam has to bow gracefully from the bridge
and go down. I haven't had a ship under my charge
wrecked yet. When that comes, I'll have to do lie
the others. After the bbats were away, and I saw that
there was nothing to be got by waiting, I jumped over-
board exactly as I might have vaulted over i^to a flat
green field, and struck out for the mail-boat. Another
officer did the same thing, but he went for a boat fuU
of natives, and they whacked him on the chest with
oars, so he had some difficulty in climbing in.
' It was as well that I reached the mail-boai,. There
was a compass in it, but the idiots had managed to fill
the boat half full of water somehow or anoLr, and
none of the crew seemed to know what was required of
them. Then the rielgoth went down and took every
one with her -ships generally do that; the corpses
dont cumber the sea for some time.
headed into the track of the coasting steamers. The
aggravating thing was the thought that we were close
to land as far as a big steamer was concerned, and in
the middle of eternity as far as regarded a little boat.
— o „..., i^^.^ nugeuUM uig irom a boat at night.*
THE WRECK OP THE VISIGOTH 43
'Oh, Christ, whose voice the waters heard
And hushed their ravings at Thy word,
Who walkedst on the foaming deep
And calm amidst its rage did keep, —
Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee,
For those in peril on the sea I '
sang the passengers cheerily.
'That harmonium is disgracefully out of tune,' said
the Captain. ' The sea air affects their insides Well
as I was saying, we settled down in the boat. The
Captain s wife was unconscious ; she lay in the bottom
of the boat and moaned. I was glad she wasn't thresh-
ing about the boat: but what I did think was wron^,
was the way the two men passengers behaved. They
were useless with funk - out and out fear. They lay
in the boat and did nothing. Fetched a groan now
and again to show they were alive; but that was all.
liut the other woman was a jewel. Damn it, it was
worth being shipwrecked to have that woman in the
boat ; she was awfully handsome, and as brave as she
was lovely. She helped me bail out the boat, and she
worked like a man.
'So we kicked about [he sea from midnight till
TtT T^r^* ''^'''^^^' ^^^ *^^^ ^« «^^ a steamer.
"~r ; ^r^ ^'"""^ anything I'm wearing to hoist as
a signal of distress," said the woman ; but I had no
need to ask her, for the steamer picked us up and took
us back to Bombay. I forgot to tell you that, when
the day broke, I couldn't recognise the Captain's wife
-- widow, I mean. She had changed in the night as if
fire had gone over her. I met her a long time after-
^.„- „...! ^.^ex. i^ncxi she aadnt lorgiven me for put-
ting her into the boat and obeying the Captain's orders.
M
THE WKECKOP THE VISIGOTH
But the husband of the other woman-he's in the Amy
- wrote me no end of a letter of thanks. I don't sun-
enl 'h tT"'r' *■?* '''' ""^ ''■' ^' "^ha'd wL
enough to make any decent man do aU he eould. The
other fellows, who lay in the bottom of the boat and
b M to V Tr.r- ,°""'' """^ *»• Should""
wit 1 *° «■» "f ^ did. And that's how the Vmgoth
went down, for no assignable reason, with eighty bags
of maJ, five hundred souls, and not a single paekft
insured, on just sueh a night as this.' ^
' Oh, Trinity of love and power,
Our brethren shield in that dread hour
Prom rook and tempest, fire and foe, '
Protect them wlieresoe'er they go.
Thus evermore shall rise to Thee
Glad hymns of praise by land and sea.'
•Strikes me they'll go on singing that hymn all
night. Imperfeet sort of doctrine in the last lines
don't you thmk? They might have run in Z xT™
verse specfymg sudden collapse - like the Vuigom.
th^Gu! "*'^''"'^^'°""- «-*-^>>V-id
And I was left alone with the steady thud, thud of
ftescrew and the gentle creaking of the boats at the
That made me shudder.
THE SOLID MULDOON
Did ye see John Malone, wid his shinin', brand-new hat?
Did ye see how he walked like a grand aristocrat ?
?ho^ ^^^^ *''' ^^"^^"^ ""*'''"' ^'^^' ^''' ^^^^^ *^^ «^*yl« ^ere
But the best av all the company was Misther John Malone.
John Malone,
lb SEE had been a royal dog-fight in the ravine at
ihe back of the rifle-butts, between Learoyd's Jock and
Ortheris's Blue Mot — hoth mongrel Rampur hounds,
chiefly ribs and teeth. It lasted for twenty happy,
howling minutes, and then Blue Hot collapsed and
Ortheris paid Learoyd three rupees, and we were all
very thirsty. A dog-fight is a most heating entertain-
ment, quite apart from the shouting, because Rampurs
fight over a couple of acres of ground. Later, when
the sound of belt-badges clicking against the necks of
beer-bottles had died away, conversation drifted from
dog to man-fights of all kinds. Humans resemble red-
deer in some respects. Any talk of fighting seems to
wake up a sort of imp in their breasts, and they bell
one to the other, exactly like challenging bucks. This
is noticeable even in men who consider themselves supe-
rior to Privates of the Line : it shows the Refining
Influence of Civilisation and the March of Progress.
Tale provoked tale, and each tale more beer. Even
dreamv Learovd'a pv^a hprtan f/^ k^c^i,* — ,_j i ^
burdened himself of a long history in which a trip to
46
46
THE SOLID MULDOON
Malham Cove a girl at Pateley Brigg, a ganger, himself
and a pair of clogs were mixed in drawling tangle.
An so Ah coot's yead oppen from t' chin to t' hair,
an he was abed for t' matter o' a month,' concluded
Learoyd pensively.
Mulvaney came out of a reverie -he was lying down
-and flourished his heels in the air. 'You're a man,
Learoyd said he critically, * but you've only fought wid
men, an' that's an ivry^ay expayrience; but I'fe stud
up to P^ ghost, an' that was not an ivry-day expayrience'
' No / said Ortheris, throwing a cork at him ' You
git up an address the 'ouse -you an' yer expayriences.
Is It a bigger one nor usual ? ' tf j ^«-
' 'Twas the livin' trut' l'' answered Mulvaney, stretch-
ing out a huge arm and catching Ortheris by the collar.
Now where are ye, me son? Will ye take the wurrud
av the Lorrd out av my mouth another time?' He
shook him to emphasise the question
'No, somethin' else, though,' said Ortheris, making a
da^h at Mulvaney's pipe, capturing it and holding it at
iTm'e go^I^' '^''' '''"'^ '* '''°'*^'^ ditch If you'^ion't
^Youmaraudin'hathenl 'Tis the only cu.ty I iver
iunah H f : '" "^^ '^'' ^^^^^ ^- --* tl
nullah. If that poipe was bruk - Ah I Give her back
to me, oorr I
Ortheris had passed the treasure to my hand. It was
an absolutely perfect clay, as shiny as the black ball at
rool. 1 took it reverently, but I was firm.
; Will you tell us about the ghost-fight if I do ?' I
said.
J Is ut the shtory that's troublin' you? Av course I
wi^. - mint to all along. I was only gettin' at ut my
THE SOLID MULDOON 47
own way, as Popp Doggie said whin they found him
thrymg to ram a cartridge down the muzzle. Orth'ris
tall away I * *
He released the little Londoner, took back his pipe,
filled It, and his eyes twinkled. He has the most elo-
quent eyes of any one that I know.
'Did I xver tell you,' he began, 'that I was wanst the
divil av a man ? '
'You did,' said Learoyd with a childish gravity that
made Ortheris yell with laughter, for Mulvaney was
always impressing upon us his great merits in the old
days.
'Did I iver tell you,' Mulvaney continued calmly,
that I was wanst more av a divil than I am now ? '
' Mer-ria ! You don't mean it ? ' said Ortheris.
'Whin I was Corp'ril -I was rejuced aftherwards-
but, as I say, whin I was Corp'ril, I was a divil of a man '
He was silent for nearly a minute, while his mind
rummaged among old memories and his eye glowed
He bit upon the pipe-stem and charged into his tale
'Eyahl They was great times. I'm ould now: me
hide s wore off in patches ; sinthrygo has disconceited
me, an I m a married man tu. But I've had my dav -
.J!M^^ ^^^' ^""^ ^^*^"^' "^" *^k« ^^^y the taste av
that Oh my time past, whin I put me f ut through ivry
hvm wan av the Tin Commandminte between Revellv
and Lights Out, blew the froth off a pewter, wiped me
moustache wid the back av me hand, an' slept on ut all
as ^ quiet as a little child I But ut's over -1 ut's over
an twill niver come back to me ; not though I prayed
Ould Rig mint to touch Corp'ril Terence Mulvaney
whm that same was turned out for sedukshin ? I niver
48
THE SOLID MULDOON
ll!
■5!
met him. Ivpr ,Toman that was not a witch was worth
the runmn- afther in those days, an' ivry man wMmv
dearest frmd or -I had stripped to him'^an' we k„"^
which was the betther av the tu
'Whin I was Corp'ril I wud not ha' changed wid the
Colonel -no, nor yet the Commandher-in-Chief I
wud be a Sargint. There was nothin' I wud not be I
Mother av Hivin, look at me I Fwhat am TL7
We was quartered in a big cantonmint-'tis no
manner av use namin' names, for ut might give the
Earth ; "'^'^P'"'"— >»' I was the Imperof " : the
Earth to my own mind, an' wan or tu women thought
the same. Small blame to thim. Afther we had uFn
there a year, Bragin, the bolour Sargint av E CompW
wmt an took a wife that was .ady's^ .d to soZbig
L'd vu r; ^""''^ ^""^ "0^ i^ Annie Bngif
-died m chUd-bed at Kirpa Tal, or ut may ha' b.L
Almorah -seven-nine yea« gone, an' Bragin he
l,ke Zr *" ""f ™'°"' ^'"''y- She had efes
like the brown av a buttherfly's wing whin the sun
oa ches u^an' awaist no thicker than my arm, an' a
h tie sof' button av a mouth I would ha' gone through
all Asia bnsthn wid Imy'nite to get the Iriss av. 1?
her hair was as long as the tail av the Colonel's charger
-forgive me mentionin' that blunderin' baste in tZ
s^e mouthful with Annie Bragin-but 'twas all shpun
gold, an time was when a lock av ut was more than
^ mon J to me^ ^ere was niver pretty womanTe W
Ue^ thruck wid a few, cud open the door to'A;^e
" Twas in the Cath'lio Chapel I saw her first, me ol
roUuiB round aa nant,! in o„„ «_i,.i ^ . y' ° ""
.- ,„ „„„ inuai, was to be seen.
THE SOLID MULDOON
" ""'™ '00 good for Brarin, my Iovb " rti^t t .
mesilf, "but that's a mistake I c2„?7t ^^ ^ *"
name is not Terence Mulvaney " ^ ""^''*' " "^
doorstep. 'Twas so we found O'h! I ". ^^' ""^^ '
ordLr. did F^tTm'iix^rt .rt^^""'
vamty av the sect," sez I to mesUf »„' ^ P^'"
another cook on my head T,,' «T • ,,? *^™ "^ ""P
- 'twas the back ay a DW MaS^ °'^ "^ ''**
wiut off as tho- 1 did nnfVI .^!"'''' *08e days— an'
Married QuarteraWhl' i"'''' ""^^ ^^^^ '" "-e
bhoys«..I'm?h?nliv^ th.t """ P«'^>>"»ded - most
cud'stand agal^fZ 7y I h l7„~nr T "•'"'^"
had reason far thinkin' that taT-ln f' ^T '
Bragin. way — tiU I met Annie
60
THE SOLID MT7LD00N
such things; but I thought thim all the same. An'
that, mark you, is the way av a man.
'Wan evenin' I said: — "Mrs. Bragin, manin' no
disrespect to you, who is that Corp'ril man " — I had
seen the stripes though I cud niver get sight av his
face — " who is that Corp'ril man that comes in always
whin I'm goin' away ? "
' " Mother av God I " sez she, turnin' at, white as my
belt ; " have you seen him too ? "
* " Seen him ! " sez I ; " av coorse I have. Did ye want
me not to see him, for " — we were standin' talkin' in
the dhark, outside the veranda av Bragin's quarters
"you'd betther tell me <to hut me eyes. Onless I'm
mistaken, he's come now."
* An', sure enough, the Corp'ril man was walkin' to us,
hangin' his head down as though he was ashamed av
himsilf.
' " Good-night, Mrs. Bragin," sez I, very cool ; " 'tis
not for me to interfere wid your a-moors ; but you might
manage some things wid more dacincy. I'm off to can-
teen," I sez.
*I turned on my .leel an' wint away, swearin' I wud
give that ma* a dhretsin' that wud shtop him messin'
about the Married Quarters for a month an' a week. I
had not tuk ten paces before Annie Bragin was hangin'
on to my arm, an' I cud feel that she was shakin' all over.
* " Stay wid me. Mister Mulvaney," sez she ; " you're
flesh an' blood, at the least — are ye not?"
' " I'm all that," sez I, an' my anger wint away in a
flash. " Will I want to be asked twice, Annie ? "
'Wid that I slipped my arm round her waist, for,
begad, I fancied she had surrindered at discretion, an'
the honours av war were mine.
THE SOLID MULDOON
'"Pwhat nonsinse is this?" sez 8l.« ^i,™ • . ^
up on tlie tips av her dear M„ f *'?' ''""'"
mother's milk not dhrvL*°«'- "^'^ ""e
go I " she seT ^ "^ ^°" ""?'<*«"» """tt ? Let
bloodr-s^rlllf;' r- «»t I was flesh and
I kap- my a„n where uT r. '""'""^ ''""'"" ' ^ ' -'
'"Your arms to vonr«iilff»» c,^„ i.
sparkild. -^ ^ '^^ '^«' an' her eyes
'"Sure, 'tis only human nature," sez T. ar,' t i
my arm where ut was. ' ^'^ ^ ^®P'
-a^^^Hr n, Vb'::^c r ' wii :r .r '"-
av your head. Fwhat d/ou'tTe nTe'o 'r^/r ""
mintsl" •^'' "^ ^°' "*« »"-'«'•*«-* in oanton-
bJJJ^ f *V ''"'"PP*'' "y "•»' f«" back tu paces an-
sa uted for I saw that she mint fwhat she s^id^'
He. h^rt.^tth':::^;^ or rar;r "^
i^rottt'^r:^/---^^^^^^^
goin Wy"" ' ^ '''^"'' ' '«" •»<''^> '-^"ted. »>>• was
agli?^^ wid me," she sez. ..Look! He's comin'
'She pointed to the veranda, an' by the Height ay
B2
THE SOLID MULDOON
Impart'nince, the Corp'ril man was comin' out av Bra-
gin's quarters.
* " He's done that these five evenin's past," S3z Annie
Bragin. » Oh, fwhat will I do I "
'"He'll not do ut again," sez I, for I was fightin'
inad.
'Kape away from a man that has been a thrifle
crossed in love till the fever's died down. He rages
like a brute beast.
'I wint up to the man in the veranda, manin», as
sure as I sit, to knock the life out av him. He slipped
into the open. "Fwhat are you doin' philanderin'
about here, ye scum av the gutter?" sez T polite, to
give him his warnin', for I wanted him ready.
* He niver lifted his head, but sez, all mournful an'
melancolius, as if he thought I wud be sorry for him :
"I can't find her," sez he.
I "My troth," sez I, "you've lived too long— you
an' your seekin's an' findin's in a dacint married
woman's quarters I Hould up your head, ye frozen
thief av Genesis," sez I, "an* you'll find all you want
an' more I "
*But he niver hiM up, an' I let go from the shoulder
to where the hair is short over the eyebrows.
' " That'll do your business," sez I, but it nearly did
mine instid. I put my bodyweight behind the blow,
but I hit nothing at all, an' near put my shoulther out.
The Corp'ril man was not there, an' Annie Bragin, who
had been watchin* from the veranda, throws up her
heels, an' carries on like a cock whin his neck's wrung
by the dhrummer-bhoy. I wint back to her, for a livin'
woman, an' a woman like Annie Bragin, is more than a
p'rade-grouu' full av ghosts. I'd never seen a woman
THE SOLID MULDOON ««
f«nt before, a,,' I stud like a el.tuck calf, askin' her
whether d^ was dead, aa' prayin' her for 'theWe av
me, an the love av her husband, an' the love av thi
Vugm, to „p.„ her blessed eyes again, an' calliu' mesUf
a Ithenamesuudherthe canopy av Hivin for plaTuT"
her w,d „,y m,serable moor> whin I ought to ha' stud
•I misremimber fwhat nonsinse I said, but I was not
so far gone that I cud not hear a fut on tko dirt Zide
was comin to. I jumped to the far end av the veranda
M. Qui" If "n" """"'' ■"^'' - "^ mouth t
Mrs. Qumn, the Quarter-Master's wife that was had
tould Bragin about my hangin' round Annie
1 m not pleased wid you, Mulvanev » «p^ r^„ •
un ucklin. his sword, for hj ha'd beenT^'utr ""'
"Thats bad hearin'," I sez, an' I knew that the
pickets were dhriven in. "What for, Sargit " se. I
o«idth^tri'"'ffrr ',"''"* "'^' ^'"p"^ »« "one ''o
d^ I golt^df^lt '"" *"■"• '^•'" ■"« "-• '"^^
'He was a quick man an' a just, an' saw fwhat I wn,1
mi^ht r. :^'' f™- ^^"^'"'^ '-band," si'he He
Zfhim noTng^^ "^ "''"' "'^' ^^^^ '"''* ^ "''<•
'We wint to the back av the araenal an' I stripped
to h.m an' for ten minutes 'twas all I cud do to pre
vent h.m killi„. himself against my fistes. He wa^ S
as a dumb dog- just frothing wid rage; but h^ h^
else. " ^" '■'' *^"^"' oi' learning or anything
I
it
I,
84
THE SOLID MULDOON
"* Will ye hear reasqn?" sez I, whin his first wind
was run out.
»"Not whoile 7 can see," sez he. Wid that T gave
him both, one after the other, smash through the low
gyard that he'd been taught whin he was a boy, an' the
eyebrow shut down on the cheek-bone like the wing av
a sick crow.
Will you hear reason now, ye brave man? " sez I.
;"Not whoile I can speak," sez he, sutggerin' up
blmd as a stump. I was loath to do ut, but I wint
round an' swung into the jaw side-on an' shifted ut a
half pace to the lef '.
'"Will ye hear reason how?" sez I; "I can't keep
my timper much longer, an' 'tis like I will hurt you."
'"Not whoile I can stand," he mumbles out av one
corner av his mouth. So I closed an' threw him —
blind, dumb, an' sick, an' jammed the jaw straight.
' " You're an ould fool, Mister Bragin," sez I.
"'You're a young thief," sez he, "an' you've bruk
my heart, you an' Annie betune you I "
'Thin he began cryin' like a child as he lay. I was
sorry as I had niver been before. 'Tis an awful thing
to see a strong man cry.
' " I'll swear on the Cross I " sez I.
' " I care for none av your oaths," sez he.
'"Come back to your quarters," sez I, "an* if you
don't believe the livin', begad, you shall listen to the
dead," I sez.
'I hoisted him an' tuk him back to his quarters.
" Mrs. Bragin," sez I, "here's a man that you can cure
quicker than me."
^'« You've shamed me before my wife," he whimpera.
' Have I so? " sez I. - By the look on Mrs. Bragin's
THE SOLID MULDOON
face I think I'm for a dhressin' down worae than I gave
you. ®
*An' I wfwl Annie Bragin was woild wid indi^na-
tion. There was not a name that a dacint woman cud
use that was not given my way. I've had my Colonel
walk roun' me like . .oper roun' a cask for fifteen
rainuts in Ord'ly Koom, o^kaze I wint into the Corner
bhop an unstrapp d awua c ; but all that I iver tuk
from his rasp av a ^uT1a.e was ginger-pop to fwhat
Annie tould me. A.' that, mark you, is the way av a
woman.
* Whin ut was done for want av breath, an' Annie
was bendin' over her husband, I sez : " 'Tis all thrue
an' I'm a blayguard an' you're an honest woman ; but
will you tell him of wan service that I did you? "
* As I finished speakin' the Corp'ril man came up to
the veranda, an' Annie Bragin shquealed. The moon
was up, an' we cud see his face.
*"I can't find her," sez the Corp'ril man, an' wint
out like the puff av a candle.
'"Saints stand betune us an' evil I" sez Bradn
crossin' himself ; " that's Flahy av the Tyrone."
'"Who was he?" I t.ez, "for he has given me a dale
av fightin' this day."
' Bragin tould us that Flahy was a Corp'ril who lost
his wife av cholera in those quarters three years gone
an' wint mad, an' walked afther they buried him!
huntin' for her.
'"Well," sez I to Bragin, "he's been hookin' out av
Purgathory to kape company wid Mra. Bragin ivrv
evenin' for the last fortnight. You may tell Mrs.
Quinn, wid mv love, for J Vnnw th°* "1^"-''' i»— -"^-ii- '
y .. _ „ J/Jiteu OiiU B UCUIi 1/UrXK.iIl
to you, an' you've been listenin', that she ought to
66
THE SOLID MULDOON
ondherstand the differ 'twixt a man an' a ghost. She's
had three husbands," sez I, "an' you\^ got a wife too
good for you. Instid av which you lave her to be
boddered by ghosts an' -an' all manner av evil
spirruts.^ I'll niver go talkin' in the way av politeness
to a man s wife again. Good-night to you both," sez I ;
an wid that I wint away, havin' fought wid woman,
man and Divil aU in the heart av an hour. By the
same token I gave Father Victor wan rupee to say a
mass for Flahy's soul, me havin' discommoded him by
shtickmg my fist into his systim.' .
* Tour ideas of politeness seem rather large, Mul-
vaney,' I said. ^
'That's as you look at ut,' said Mulvaney calmly;
Anme Bragm niver cared for me. For all that, I did
not want to leave anything behin'me that Bragin could
take hould av to be angry wid her about -whin an
honust wurrd cud ha' cleared all up. There's nothing
Ike opm-speakin>. Orth'ris, ye scutt, let me put me oi
to that bottle, for my throat's as dhry as whin I thought
1 wud get a kiss from Annie Bragin. An' that's four-
teen years gone I Eyahr Cork's own city an' the blue
sky above ut-an' the times that was -the times that
was 1
WITH THE MAIN GUARD
Der jungere Uhlanen
Sit round mit open mouth /-
While Breitmann tell dem stdories
^i nghtm' in the South ;
Und gif dem moral lessons,
How before der battle pops,
Take a little prayer to Himmel
Und a goot long drink of Schnapps.
Hans Breitmann'' a Ballads.
' Maby, Mother ay Mercy, fwhat the divil possist us
lVt2T '^'^ '"^'-"•'- counthry /rt:
It was Mulvaney who was speaking. The time wao
one o'elook of a stifling June night, and the pla"e ZZ
at tW I "^ '° ^'^'^- ^l'"* I ™ doing there
at that hour is a question which only concerns M'Grath
Th^ Xard'li ,ft 'n' '" " 'huparfluous necLity.
ihis gyardU shtay lively till relieved.' He himsel'
sTad''''!, •*"•*•'' ™'^'= ^«"''y<' »» the next bed
stead was dnppmg from the skinful of water wh ch
Orthens, clad only in white trousers, had just sluted
over h,s shoulders ; and a fourth private was mutrr
.ng uneasily as he dozed open-mou^hedtn Z Z^ol
the great guard-lantern. The heat under ^^- ? "t *
archway was terrifying. ""''"'"
67
58
WITH THE MAIN GUARD
'"!
The worrst night that iver I remimber. Eyah! Is
all Hell loose this tide?' said Mulvaney. A puff of
burmng wind lashed through the wicket-gate like a
wave of the sea, and Ortheris swore
'Are ye more heasy, Joek?'he said to Learoyd.
Jut jer ead between your legs. Ifll go orf in a
'Ah don't care. Ah would not care, but ma heart
« plaayin- tivvy-tivvy on ma ribs. Let me die!
Oh, leave me die I groaned the huge Yorkshireman,
who^was feehng the heat acutely, being of fleshi;
a„Jt!-''',T'' "^f"" *''" '*"*""' "™«d *» " -"oment
tin P ^ T" "^ ^' '"'°^- - ' ^'^ »<i be damned
then he said. ' Tm damned and I can't die ! •
to Z ^l^Veved, for the voice was new
'Gentleman born,' said Mulvaney; 'Corp'ril wan
year, Sargmt nex'. Red-hot on Ws C'mission, Zt
dhnnks like a fish. He'll be gone before the cowld
weather's here. Sol'
He slipped his boot, and with the naked toe :ust
touched the trigger of his Martini. Ortheris mis-
understood the movement, and the next instant the
Irishman s rifle vas dashed aside, while Ortheris stood
before him, his eyes blazing with reproof.
J You I 'said Ortheris. ' My Gawd, y.u-/ If it was
you, wot would we do?'
; Kape quiet, little man,' said Mulvaney, putting him
aside, but very gently; -tis not me, nor will f t b^
sTmeThtg.'''^"' '''''^' ''-' ' -- '^^ «^-in'
Learoyd, bowed on his bedstead, groaned, and the
WITH THE MAIN GUARD
69
gentleman-ranker sighed in his sleep. Ortheris took
Mulvaney's tendered pouch, and we th e Lk '
gravely for a space while the dust-devils danced on the
glacis and scoured the red-hot pluin
L>on t tantalise wid talkin' av dhrink, or I'll shtuff
you into your own breech-block an' -fire you off I'
grunted Mulvaney. ^ ^^ ^
Ortheris chuckled, and from a niche in the veranda
produced six bottles of gingerade. ^
vaZ^'^'T^'^ ^V ^*' ^' Machiavel?' said Mul-
vaney. ' Tis no bazar pop. '
' 'Ow do m know wot the Orf eera drinV 9 • »„ j
Ortheris. ' Arst the mesa-man/ ^"'^ ' ""'''''''*
'Yell have a Disthrict Coort-martial settin' on ve
yet, me son ' said Mulvaney, .buf -he opened a bo^
tie - .1 will not report ye this time. Fwhafs in the
war orf T.""^ Here's luck! A bloody
thin! -he waved the innocent 'pop' to the fn,,,^
quarters of Heaven. .Bloody war! North eZ
^o«^. ». West, Jock, ye Uln' hfyrifk, fot^
8a^ed*inTh7'^ t" ""'^ ^'*'' ""« ^«" »* O''^*!' Pre-
saged n the swelling veins of his neck, was ne Ji„»
his Maker to strike him dead, and fightingr moff °?
between h s prayers. A second time^'orth^rs dZehtd
An Ah divn t see thot a mon is i' fettle for sooin'
7^:^:i^^ ^vn't see thot there is^^Xr
t' livin' for. He
lads! Ah'm tired — tired.
TVi^^^' 1.1 ' "*' ii^nm tired — tire
There s nobbut watter i' ma bones. Let me die T'
60
WITH THE MAIN GUARD
III
The hollow of the arch gave back Learoyd's broken
^rbut I " "T- . ''•^™"^^ """^- «* - hope"
noon in the bank^ „° thit SrSdToTnt d
been „ed by the .kllful .agicirM^ltX.''
Talk, Terence I I said, ' or we shall have Learovd
aimgmg loose, and he'll be worse than 0,2.7 ^
Talk I He'll answer to your vofce ' '"^■
riflt'Tthe'flr i'^'^'m", '•'"' '^**'y ^l^^"™ '^l ae
Mes of the Guard on Mulvaney's bedstead, the Irish-
mans voice was uplifted as that of one in ihe middJa
of a st^.y, and, turning to'me, he said-
rig'minrf thVy"! "' !*' "^ ^'^ ^^' ^orr. an Oirish
rig mint is the dml an' more, '^is only fit for a
young man wid eddicated fisteses. Oh the orame av
disruption is au Oirish rig'mint. an' rippin' t^' J
ragm' scattherers in the field avwar! My first ™''
mmt was Oirish - Faynians an' rebils toThe hcL f^
their marrow was they, an' so they fought for tte wTddl
^.tW than most, beiu' contrair^-o'irish. ThTy tt
the Black Tyrone. You've heard avthim, Sorr''
Heard of them I I knew the Black T^ne for the
choicest cdlection of munitigated blackguarfs doj
ttr Ind " rf 'r°"'^' --Ito- of in^otft
S H»,f F '''''^. ''"""^ ''^'oes in the Army
t ^r^,^'""^ ""'' '»'»'* Asia has had c^^--. to
teZp ? ''"^ Tyrone-good luck be with thej '^2
tered Colours as Glory has ever been I
ihey was hot pickils an' einffer' T n„*
head tu deep wid my belt in ^hf J ' " "^"^
o„> t.1, ■^ '" t"^ days av my vouth
an, afther some circumstances which I will obmh r'
ate, I came to the Ould Ri^'min* ^-I- T •
WITH THE MAIN GUARD gj
acter av a man wid hands an' feet. But, as I was
goin to tell you, I fell acrost the Black Tyrone
agin wan day whin we wanted thim powerful bad.
Orth ri8, me son, f what was the name av that place
where they sint wan comp'ny av us an' wan av the
Tyrone roun' a hill an' down again, all for to tache
the Paythans something they'd niver learned before ?
Afther Ghuzni 'twas.'
w "^""j;'*.^''^'^ ^^'''^ *^^ ^^^^^'^^' Paythans called it.
We called it silver's Theayter. You know t^.at, sure ' '
'Silver's Theatre-so 'twas. A gut betune two
hills, a. black as a bucket, an' as thin as a girl's waist.
There was over-many Paythans for our convaynience
m the gut, an' begad they called thimselves a Reserve
- oem impident by natur I Our Scotchies an' lashins
av Gurkys was poundin' into some Paythan rig'mints,
I think twas. Scotchies an' Gurkys are twins bekaze
they re so onlike, .f they get dhrunk together whin
God plazes. As I was sayin', they sint wan comp'ny
av the Quid an' wan av the Tyrone to double up the
hill an clane out the Paythan Reserve. Orf'oers was
scarce in thim days, fwhat with dysintry an' not takin'
care av thimselves, an' we was sint out wid only wan
orf cer for the comp'ny ; but he wa^ a Man that had
his feet beneath him, an' all his teeth in their sockuts.'
'Who was he?' I asked.
'Captain O'Neil-Old Crook - Cruikna-bulleen -
him that I tould ye that tale av whin he was in Burma.i
Hah ! He was a Man. The Tyrone tuk a little orfcer
bhoy, but divil a bit was he in comma. . , as I'll dimon-
strate presintly. We an' they came over the brow av
^ Now first of thfi fnoTTlOTj r^t p«U T*_ m.
Wa8 Captain O'Neil of the Blac!^ Tyrone.
Tke Ballad of Boh Da Thone.
62
WITH THE MAIN GUARD
!,'■ ' M
the hill, wan on each side av the rmf o«» i
t.at o^^cint Wve wait J ritC^^rr ^
twinty bowlders an' tZ P ^^ ^'^ """^ *»"
BweJi^e^^ whin .h„ >^ f""'/"^ ''S™™' l«
Tvmn» ■ ^ "■'f' "'"'" ™e little orfcev bhoy nv the
lyione , u'laeato out 8..Tost the valley :-" Fwhal T.
men? Do yt, cot see they'll stand'" ° «"^ my
"Nh^r;!!inftt« '"^^P•"'"^' ^'"""'^^ Crook.
' ' There's damned little suffar in nf f » =o,
rank man ; but Crook heard ''' ^"^ '^^^-
at the rIT »: "^^ ''"^- ^^^^oyd bein' sick
at the Base he av coorse, was not there/
c were mere. J^what I was thinkin* nfr »t^
his stomach meditatively. ^^
WITH THB MAIN GUARD gg
''Twas no place for a little man, but wm little man'
~J^^Z:ir ^' "^"^ "" ^^''""'^ shoulder -
saved the life ay me. There we shtuok, for divil a
b^ d.d the Paythans flinch, an' divil a b t da^ we
our business bein' to clear 'em out An- fitT I
exthryordinar' thing av all Z Ctlr^^J^,
rushed into each other's arrums, an' there was no fiZ
for a long time. Nothin' but knife an' bay'nit when wf
cud get our hands free : an' that was not oftel w!
was bxeast-on to thim, an' the Tyrone was yelpTn'
behmd av us in a way I didn't see the lean av at &s?
But I knew later, an' so did the Paythans.
wM^r *\^°'«'" »i°8rs out Crook, wid a laugh
whin the rush av our comin' into the gut shtopZ
an he was huggin' a hairy great Paythan^eitherS
Breast to breast I " he sez, as the Tyrone was
pushm' us forward closer an' closer
' "Thank ye. Brother Inner Guard," sez Crook cool
^ a cucumber widout salt. "I wanted that tom.''
An he wint forward by the thickness av a man's bodv
thThelTr *'l.''r'"' ""'^''^' '>-• The manlf^
the heel off Crook's boot in his death-bite.
beZs P' r ' " '" ?°"^ "^"^'•' y« PaP«r-backed
beggars! he sez. "Am I to pull ye through'" So
a" 2 Ir b" ^'f '• ^"' "^ »-""^' -' — e
an' God C .. f ''*P'''^' ""'• ^''^' ^-Jdu't bite
an God help the front-rank man thit ».>* do— -^^l
64
WITH THE MAIN GUABD
Ave you ever bin in. the Pit hentrance o' the Vic
on a th,clc night?' interrupted Ortheris. 'It Z
worse nor tl,at, for tliey was goin' one way an- we
wouldn't -ave it. Leastaways, I 'adn't much to 2.'
iaith, me son, ye said ut, thin. I kep' the little
man betune my knees as long as I cud, but he was
pokm' roun' wid his bay'nit, blindin' an^ stiiHn' feT"
shus The devil of a man is Orth'ris in a ruction -
aren't ye ? ' said Mulvaney.
' Don't make game ! ' said the Cockney. ' I knowed
I wasn't no good then, but I guv 'em compot from Se
lef flank vvhen we opened out. No I' he said, bring-
bav'nt'™ I" ""^ T'* "■ *•'"'"? °" *« bedstead, ?«
bay nit am t no good to a little man-might as weU
ave a bloomin' fishin'-rodl I 'ate a clawiV, mauC
mess, but gimme a breech that's wore out a bit, an'
hamminition one year in store, to let the powder kiss
the bullet, an put me somewheres where I ain't trod
on by nlkin swine like you, an' s'elp me Gawd, I ..ould
bowl you over five times outer seven at height 'undred.
Would yer try, you lumberin' Hirishman.'
Sw- f .y^^:. ^'™ '"'" y" ^0 "*■ I say there's
nothm better than the bay'nit, wid a long reach, a
double twist av ye can, an' a slow recover '
'Dom the bay'nit,' said Learoyd, who had been
1 stening intent y. 'Look a-here 1 ' He picked up a
rifle an inch below the foresight with an underhand
dagger "' ^^^°*'^ "' * "'*° ^"''^ ^"^ »
'Sitha,' said he softly, 'thot's better than owt, for a
mon can bash t' faace wi' thot, an', if he divn't, he can
breeak t forearm o' t' gaard. 'Tis not i' f books
though. Gie me t' butt.' ^
WITH THE MAIN GUARD gg
*Each does ut his own way, like makin' love,' said
Mulvaney quietly; ' the butt or the bay'nit or the
bullet accordin' to the natur' av the man. Well as I
was sayin', we shtuck there breathin' in each other's
faces and swearin' powerful; Orth'ris cursin' the
mother that bore him bekaze he was not three inches
'Prisintly he sez ;-«Duck, ye Irmp, an' I can get
at a man over your shouldher ! "
' " You'll blow me head off," I sez, throwin' my arm
itl!' !? *^''^f T^'' ""'^ "^"^-Pi*' y^ bloodthirsty
little scutt," sez I, "but don't shtick me or I'll wrin^
your ears round." ^
'Fwhat was ut ye gave the Paythan man forninst
me, him that cut at me whin I cudn't move hand or
toot f Hot or cowld was ut ? '
' Cold,' said Ortheris, ' up an' under the rib-jint. 'E
come down flat. Best for you 'e did.'
'Thrue my son I This jam thing that I'm talkin'
about lasted for five minates good, an' thin we got
our arms clear an' wint in. I misremimber exactly
f what I did, but I didn't want Dinah to be a widdy
at the Depot. Thin, after some promishkuous hack. ^
we shtuck again, an' the Tyrone behin' was callin' us
dogs an cowards an' all manner av names; we barrin'
tneir way.
-;Fwhatail8 the Tyrone ?" thinks I; "they've the
makin s av a most convanient fight here."
* A mar: behind me sez beseechful an' in a whisper •
- " Let me get at thim I For the Love av Mary give
me room beside ye, ye tall man I "
'"An' who are you that's so anvinns to b- ^--i^?"
sez I, T. -dout turnin' my head, for the long knive'swas
.♦:;«**'•<■
66
Wrr»I 'iliiij MAIN GJABD
t^l
I f
dancin* in front like the sun on Donegal Bay whin ut*8
rough.
*"Wo\c seen our dead," he sez, squeozin' into me;
" our dead that was men tv ' .. . ^^,,ne I An' me that
was his cousin by blood could not bring Tim Coulan
oflPI Let me get on," he sez, "let me get to thim or
I'll run ye through the back I "
**'My troth," thinks I, "if the Tyrone have seen
their dead, God help the Paythans this day 1 " An'
thin I knew why the Oirish was ragin' behind us as
they was.
' I gave room to the man, an' ho ran forward wid the
Haymakers' Lift on his bay iiit an' swung a Puythan
clear off his feet by the belly-band av the brute, aa' the
iron bruk at the lockin'-ring.
' " Tim Coulan '11 slape easy to-night," sez he wid
a grin; an* the next minut his head was in two halves
and he wint d«jwn grinnin.' by sections.
' The Tyrone was pashiii' an' pushhi' in, an' our men
was swearin' at, thim, an' Cr ok was workin' away in
front av us al. his ^vvord-arm swingin' like a pump-
handle an' his revolver spittin' like a cat. But the
strange th -'ng a- t was the quiet ,'lat lay upon.
Twas like a fight in a drame -except for th'"m that
was dead.
' Whin I gave room to +^ i Oirishman I was exphided
an' forlorn in my inside. is way I have, . ivin' your
presiroe, Sorr, in action. -Lc. me out, bhoys," se.. 1,
backin' in among thim. "I'm goin' to be nwelll"
Faith they gave me room at the wurrud, though they
would not ha' given room for all HeU wid the chiU off.
When I got clear, I was, savin' your presince, Sorr,
outrama sink hfitaz^ T harl AV,^f,^\,
^xca V
- \iu.aii ""
u.u>y(
WITH THE MAIN GUARD ^
jWell an' far out av harm was a Sargint av the
Tyrone sntm' on the ittle orf 'cer bhoy who Ld stopped
bhoy, an the long black curses was slidin' out av his
innocint mouth like mornin'-jew from a rose I
*"iwhat have you got there?" sez I to the
Sargint. "®
««ri^^'!.''J ^^"^ "'•''^'*^^'' ^^""^^"^^ wid iiis spurs up,"
sez he. "He'sgoin'toCoort-martialme." ^
'"Let me go I" sez the little orf 'cer bhoy. "Let
me go and command my men I " manin' thereby the
Black Tyrone which was beyond any command lav
even av they had made the Di vil a Field-orf 'cer.
„^^» father howlds my mother's cow-feed in Clon-
mel sez the man that was sittin' on him. " Will I go
back to hs mother an' tell her that I've let him throw
''7^' away Lie still, ye little pinch av dynamitZ
<^oort-martiaI me aftherwards."
likes av the Commandher-iu-Chief, but we must pre-
off your revolver hke a child wid i cracker; you cau
make no play wid that fl„e large sword av yoL ■ an"
r^rSe.r"'' ''' - ' ■• °" ^ '-^ -'"«^'
insolint!""'"'^ *" '"" •'"""P'^y-" »«^ ^e; "you're
'"AH in erooJ timp." as? T mu,,*. t>ii i i^ ■ -
^.g^» •-• ^ "«2 -> Buu ill aave a dlirink
i
1'^
68
WITH rUE MAIN GUARD
* Just thin Crook comes up, blue an' white all over
where he wasn't red.
* - Wather I » sez ho ; " I'm dead wid drouth I Oh,
but It's a gran' day I " '
»He dhrank half a skinful, and the rest he tilts into
his ch.st an' it fair hissed on the hairy hide av him.
He sees the little orf'cer bhoy undher the Sargint.
' " h what's yonder ? " sez he.
-Mutiny, Sorr," sez the Sargint, an' the orf'cer
bhoy begins pleadin' pitiful to Crook to be let go : but
divil a bit wud Crook budge.
;"Kape him there," he sez, "'tis no child's work
this day By the same token," sez he, "I'll confish-
cate that iligant nickel-plated scent-sprinkler av yours,
tor my own has been vomitin' dishgraceful I "
'The fork av his hand wa« black wid the backspit
av the machine. So he tuk the orf'cer bhoy's revolver.
Ye may look, Sorr, but, by my faith, there^s a dale more
done in the field than iver gets into Field Ordhers f
-'Come on, Mulvaney," sez Crook; "is 'this a
Coort^martial?" The two av us wint back together
into the mess an' the Paythans were still standin'
up. They was not too impart'nint though, for the
CoXn ^^^ '^""'' '^^'^ *"" ^''''*^'' *° '^°^i"^ber Tim
' Crook stopped outside av the strife an' looked anx-
ious, his eyes rowlin' roun'.
an;;'!;'?" '^ "'' «-^" - I' "can I get ye
' " Where's a bugler ? » sez he.
1. ^^.^ft'?*"" *^® crowd -our men was dhrawin'
breath behm' the Tyrone who was i ,htin' like sowls
m tormint-an' prisintly I came acrost little Frehan,
WITH THE MAIN GUARD
ijrj" '"""."'"' 5'°""'" ^^''»* y°»'"> paid for ve
limb / • ,ez I, catchin- him by the scruff. ^ "Come out
rrtTi^r '--- ''"'^'" ^ -- •>- ^^^c
' "I've got wan," sez he, grimiin', "big as vou M„1
Tf' "■' /»f yi - ugly. Let me go^tt To'tl^r "
'I was dishpleased at the personability av tha ri,
mark so I tucks him under my arm an' carrTes Wm to
cufffhim LIT Tr'"'.""" *« ««»' -•" ^"ook
cuffsjum tUl the bhoy cries, an' thin sez nothin' for a
'The Paythans began to flicker onaisv, an' our
X '""t; , "k?"'" "^'"'^^ ' D°""e I "^'ez Crook
a'™;, '"•""' "°" '"' '""^ ■•o-" - the B^lSsh
' That bhoy blew like a typhoon, an' the Tyrone an'
we opmed out as the Paythans broke, an' I saw tW
what had gone before wud be kissin' an'Tuggt'
to fwhat was to come. We'd dhruv thim ^to »
broad part av the gut whin they gave an' thh^ w!
opned out an' fair danced dow/ tCla, " dtiv^'
thim before us. Oh, 'twas lovely, an' stiddy tool
There was the Sargints on the flanks av what wa
left av us kapin' touch, an' the fire was runnin' frZ
flank to flank, an' the Paythans was dhropZ' Z
opmed out wid the widenin' av the valleyf an' wWn
on atdv'sT""''? "' ^"^"^ ''^'"" '"^^^^^ ^^^
on a lady s fan, an' at the far ind av the gut where
they thried to stand, we fair blew them off fheir feeT
for we had fivpiprlnri ,,«„„ n-^xi. . . . "^'^ ^^®^»
av the kuifework:™ '"^ """ '"°'""""""° •»? ^»«o°
I
70
WITH THE MAIN GUARD
Hi used thirty rounds goin' down that valley,' said
Or hens, 'an' it was gentleman's work. Might V done
It m a white 'andkerchief an' pink silk stockin's, that
part. Hi was on m that piece.'
.n-'/rr"'** '"'' ^'^'^ """ '^y""^ y«"i»' ^ mile away,'
^idMulvaney, 'an' 'twas all their Sargints cud do to
get thim off. They was mad-mad-madl Crook
sits down m the quiet that fell whin we had gone
PruL! ™"'?;' '"' ''"™'' ^'' ^^ ^^ his hands.
Prismtly we all came back again accordin' to our
natures and disposishins, for they, mark you, show
through the hide av a man in that hour
' " Bhoys ! bhoys I " sez Crook to hunself. " I mis-
doubt we could ha' engaged at long range an' saved
betther men than me." He looked at our dead an'
said no more.
'"Captain dear,'' sez a man av the Tyrone, comin'
up wid his mouth bigger than iver his mother kissed
ut, spittin' blood like a whale; "Captain dear," sez
^'a fr" °^, *'"' *° *''" **»"' have been discom-
Roshus '^^ """^ ^"^"^"'^ ** performinces av a
'Thin I knew that man for the Dublin dock-rat he
was wan av the bhoys that made the lessee av Sil-
vers Theatre gray before his time wid tearin' out the
bowils av the benches an' t'rowin' thim into the pit
So I passed the wurrud that I knew when I was in the
'W'lwh" ^'",^"''lin. "I don't know who
twas, I whispers, "an' I don't care, but anyways I'll
knock the face av you, Tim Kelly."
'" Eyah ! " sez the man, " was you there too ? We'll
cdlut Silver's Theatre." Half the Tyrone, knowin' ft
ould place, tuk ut ud : so wa ooV^a ,,4- o:u.^_,_ t„ .
WITH THE MAIN GUARD ^j
;The little orfcer bhoy av the Tyrone was threm-
tials that he talked so big upon. « Ye'U do well later,"
sez Crook, very quiet, "for not bein' allowed to kUl
yourself for amusemint."
bhly/'"" ^ ^^'^^'^^^d «^a^ J " sez the little orfcer
' " Put me undher arrest, Sorr, if you will, but bv
my sowl, I'd do ut again sooner'^than face your
mother wid you dead," sez the Sargint that had sat
on his head, standin' to attention an' salutin'. But
brXT^ ''''' ""^'^ ""''^ '' *^°' ^' ^^'^' ^«^r* ^as
'Thin another man av the T;yTone came up, wid the
fog av fightin' on him.' ^
' The what, Mulvaney? '
lovJ°ftTt^''""\ '^°" ''"'""' ^»"' *at. like makin'
loje, nt takes each man diff'rint. Now I can't help
bem powerful s,ck whin I'm in action. Orth'ris, here
mver stops swearin' from ind to ind, an' the only time'
that Learoyd opms his mouth to sing is whin he is
mcss^n' wid other people's heads; for he's 1 dWrty
fighter .8 Jock. Recruities sometime cry, an' sometime
they don't know fwhat they do, an' sometime they are
aU for cuttin' throats an' such like dirtiness ; but some
men get heavy-dead-dhrunk on the flghtin'. This man
W w. "r'^^Sgetin', an' his eyes were half shut,
an we cud hear h,m dhraw breath twinty yards
wi!, r .1? ^™™^ '° '''™'"- " BJo"-! tt« young
whelpl he sez; "blood the yonng whelp"; an' wid
tiiat he threw up his arms, shmm rn„«' ,„' j^ j ,
our feet, dead as a Paythan,^an' there' ^^s "^^ llgn
jt-:l
im
hill
llli
III
m
f J
72
WITH THE MAIN GUARD
or scratch on him. They said 'twas his heart was rot-
ten, but oh, twas a quare thing to see I
' Thin we wint to bury our dead, for we wud not
lave thim to the Paythans, an' in movin' among the
haythen we nearly lost that little orfcer bhoy. He
was for givin' wan divil wather and layin' him aisy
against a rock. " Be careful, Sorr," sez I ; « a wounded
Paythans worse than a live wan." My troth, before
the words was out of my mouth, the man on the ground
fires at the orf'cer bhoy lanin' over him, an' I saw the
helmit fly. I dropped the butt on the face av the man
an tuk his pistol The little orf'cer bhoy turned very
white for the hair av half 'his head was singed away.
I tould you so, Sorr ! " sez I ; an', af ther that, whin
he wanted to help a Paythan I stud wid the muzzle
contagious to the ear. They dare not do anythin' but
TTl 7t^ ^'T ""^^ ^'°'^^^"' ^^^ dogs over a bone
that had been taken away too soon, for they had seen
their dead an' they wanted to kill ivry sowl on the
ground. Crook tould thim that he'd blow the hide off
any man that misconducted himself; but, seeing that
ut was the first time the Tyrone had iver seen their
dead, I do not wondher they were on the sharp. 'Tis •
a shameful sight I Whin I first saw ut I wud niver
ha given quarter to any man north of the Khaibar-
no nor woman either, for the women used to come
out afther dhark — Auggrhl
' Well, evenshually we buried our dead an' tuk awav
our wounded an' come over the brow av the hills to
see the Scotchies an' the Gurkys taking tay with the
Paythans ^n bucketsfuls. We were a gang av dissolute
ruffians for the blood had caked the dust, an' the sweat
nad cut the cake, an' our bay'nits was hangin' like
t
WITH THE MAIN GUARD 73
butchers' steels betune ur legs, an' most av us were
marked one way or another.
an' tz*'" wf r.' "''":, '^'"^ '"' " ^^^ "*^^' "^«« "P
an sez : What damned scarecrows are you ? "
'"A comp'ny av Her Majesty's Black Tyrone an'
wan av the Ould Rig'mint," sez Crook ve^ry quiet
givin' our visitors the fiure as 'twas
thlt^^ete:;;^' '" '''^ ""''"'"^ "^^^ ^-- ^^'^'^^
I" No ! "sez Crook, an' the Tyrone laughed.
Ihin fwhat the divil have ye done? "
STl'^^'T^ ""''" ''' ^'""^' ^^' ^^« ^^°«k us on, but
not before Toomey that was in the Tyrone sez aloud
his voice somewhere in his stummick : " Fwhat in the
name av misfortune does this parrit widout a tail mane
by shtoppm' the road av his betthers ? "
^ 'The Staff Orf'cer wint blue, an' Toomey makes him
an sayin "Come an' kiss me, Major dear, for me hus-
^Th ^l ITr^' ^'"^ ^" "^"^^ ^* ^^^^ I^^P6t."
ine btaff Orf cer wint away, an' I cud see Crook's
shoulthers shakin'.
'His Corp'ril checks Toomey. "Lave me alone,"
sez Toomey, widout a wink. "I was his batman bl
fore he was married an' he knows fwhat I mane, av
society. D you remimber that, Orth'ris I '
' Hi do. Toomey, 'e died in 'orspital, next week it
was,^se I bought 'arf his kit; an' I remember after
' Gu^ RED, TURN OUT ! '
The Relief had come; it was four o'clock. 'I'll
ca^exx a ^yart for you, Sorr,' said Mulvaney, diving
74
WITH THE MAIN GUARD
hastily into his accoutrements. ' Come up to the top
M'Grl'^lt we'll pershue our invistigations into
M Grath s shtable.' The relieved Guard strolled round
the main bastion on its way to the swimming-bath, aiid
Learoyd grew almost talkative. Ortheris looked into
the Port ditch and across the plain. ' Ho I it's weary
waitm for Ma-ary I ' he hummed ; ' but I'd like to kiU
some more bloomin' Paythans before my time's up
War! Boodywar! North, East, South, and West '
Amen, said Learoyd slowly.
wbif^WT ^r^' f ^ M^l^^^^y' checking at a blur of
white by the foot of the old sentry-box. He stooped
a^d touched It. 'It's Norah-Norah M'Taggart I
Why, Nome darlin', fwhat are ye doin' out av your
mother's bed at this time V ^
The two-year-old child of Sergeant M'Taggart must
have wandered for a breath of cool air to the very ve^e
of the parapet of the Fort ditch. Her tiny night.shfft
was gathered into a wisp round her neck and she moaned
T^^'tT^. 'S^^ there I' said Mulvaney; 'poor Iambi
Look at the heat-rash on the innocint skin av her. ' Tis
hard--crool hard even for us. Fwhat must it be for
these ? Wake up, Nonie, your mother will be woild about "
yo^ Begad, the child might ha' fallen into the ditch ' '
He picked her up in the growing light, and set her on
his shoulder, and her fair curls touched the grizzled
stubble of his temples. Ortheris and Learoyd followed
snapping their fingers, while Norah smiled at them a
sleepy smile Then carolled Mulvaney, clear as a lark,
dancing the baby on his arm —
' If any young man should marry you,
Say nothin' about the joke ;
That iver ye slep' in a sinthry-box,
Wrapped up iu a soldier's cloak.'
'Though,
WITH THE MAIN GUARD
76
on my sowl, Nonie,' he said gravely, « there
u won't
friends
much„„„ _^^^. ^^
dhress like this ten years to come,
an' run along to your mother.'
will'tf; ''* "It f"' *" '^' ^^^"^^ Q"^^*^r«' nodded
with the quiet obedience of the soldier's child bnf I!
she pattered off over the flagged path, held J her'l p
to be kissed by the Three Musketeers. Ortheris winfd
mentaly; Learoyd turned pink; and the two walked
away together. The Yorkshireman lifted up hi! voice
and gave m thunder the chorus of Tke Sentr^Bo^JZl
Orthens piped at his side.
Ar'™!" *° ^ "."'""'"' ^'"g-«»n?. you two?' said the
Artilleryman, who was taking his eartridge down to
the Morning Gnn. • You're over merry for these dZed
' I bid ye take care o' the brat, said he,
For It comes of a noble race,'
mStr^"^'- ^'^ '"""^ '"'' -' - ">« --
spl^h' 1?°"' '' ^ '"'''' ''^PP'"^ '"to Mulvaney's
Tongue r ''' ^"'^ ""'"''' '"'^ y"" t'^''* '""ve the
hea"' anfhf f ""' ""T"^ ' ^'' '^'^ ^«^« ^-k ^ Ms
:"fSisfj--t:S^he^:^:r
Way."'' ""' '"^"""' °* P»t-Amara broke the piti-
iii"
IN THE MATTER OF A PRIVATE
Hurrah I hurrah I a soldier's life for me !
Shout, boys, shout I for it makes you jolly and free.
The Bamrod Gorpa.
People who have seen, say that one of the quaintest
spectac es of human frailty is an outbreak of hysterics
on a hot afternoon, among the elder pupils. A girl
^ggles till the giggle gets beyond control. Then fhe
throws up her head, and cries, ^Monk, honk, honH,' like
a wild goose, and tears mix with the laughter. If the
mistress be wise, she will rap out something severe at
this point to check matters. If she be tender-hearted,
and send tor a drink of water, the chances are largely
m favour of another girl laughing at the aiHicted one
and herself oollai^ing. Thus the trouble spreads, and
may end in half of what answers to the Lower Sixth of '
a boys school rocking and whooping together. Given
a week of warm weather, two stately promenades per
^em, a heavy mutton and rice meal in the middle of
the day, a certain amount of nagging from the teachers.
It le JT f'T ""•"' =""""'"« ^ff««t« -i-velop
Now Mm 7^' f^ '''^^^° ''^^^ ^^^ experience.
Colono of a British Infantry Regiment would be justly
shocked at any comparison being made between their
respective charges. But it is a fact that, under certain
je
IN THE MATTEB OP A PRIVATE 77
Circumstances, Thoma« in bulk can be worked up i„t„
chtthermg ripphng hysteria. He does not weep, bu he
Sito'VeT"' ""■"'^'^'""y- -1 the cons' uenct
get nto the newspapers, and all the good people who
hardly know a Martini from a Snider say: 'Sawav
the brute's ammunition I ' J' ^ase away
look after the vn-tuous people, demands that he shall
have h,s ammunition to his hand. He doesn't wear sUk
Si thTL P "■ '" '''P''''' ^'' OP'"'™^ ■■ but, for
all that, he ,s a great man. If you call him ' the heroic
defender of the national honour ' one day, and 'a S
^I'^Z ^ ' "P™ yo" ^'th suspicion. There is
nobody to speak for Thomas except people who have
theones to work off on him, and nobod/undettands
Thomas except Thomas, and he does not'^wa™ know
what .s the matter with himself. '^
That is the prologue. This is the story : —
jy. K'.fJ^'""' ™ ""g^S^^ to be married to Miss
Jhansi M'Konna, whose history is well known in the
regiment and elsewhere. He had his Colonel's pej^!
8.o„ and being popular with the men, every amZ
inent had been made to give the weddi;g what Se
Orthens called ' eeklar.' It fell in the hfart of the tt
weafter, and after the wedding, Slane was going up to
the H.11S with the bride. None the less, Slfne's griev"
ance was that the affair would be only a hired-carrill
wedding, and he felt that the 'eeWar' of tha twS
meagre. Miss M'Kenna did not care so much tZ
IT*!!^ "1*" ^- "^'P™^ "- to »ake her weddfn;
-.-., „.. .„„ was very busy. Slane was, just thei.
ft
78
IN THE MATTER OF A PRIVATE
the only moderately contented man in barracks. All
the rest were more or less miserable.
And they had so much to make thera happy, too.
All their work was over at eight in the morning, and
for the rest of the day they could lie on their backs and
smoke Canteen-plug and swear at the punkah-coolies.
They enjoyed a fine, full flesh meal in the middle of
the day, and then threw themselves down on their cots
and sweated and slept till it was cool enough to go out
with their ' towny,' whose vocabulaiy contained less
than SIX hundred words, and the Adjective, and whose
views on every conceivable question they had heard
many times before.
There was the Canteen, of courae, and there was the
Temperance Room with the second-hand papers in if
but a man of any profession cannot read for eight hours
a day m a temperature of 96° or 98"' in the shade, run-
ning up sometimes to 103° at midnight. Very few men,
even though they get a pannikin of flat, stale, muddy
beer and hide it under their cots, can continue drinking
for SIX hours a day. One man tried, but he died, and
nearly the whole regiment went to his funeral because
It gave them something to do. It was too early for the
excitement of fever or cholera. The mea could onlv
wait and wait and wait, and watch the shadow of the
barrack creeping across the blinding white dust That
was a gay life.
They lounged about cantonments - it was too hot
tor any sort of game, and almost too hot for vice — and
fuddled themselves in the evening, and filled themselves
to distension with the healthy nitrogenous food provided
for them, and the more they stoked the less exercise
they took and more explosive they grew. Then tempera
=a"
too.
IN THE MATTER OF A PRIVATE 79
began to wear away, and men fell a-brooding over insults
i^t h r. ^^^,rP^^^^« «^^"g«d, and instead of say-
ing ligh^heartedly : 'I'll knock your silly face in,' men
grew laboriously polite and hinted that the c^nton^
ments were not big enough for themselves and thdr
enemy, and that there would be more space for one of
the two in another Place.
It may have been the Devil who arranged the thing
but the fact of the case is that Losson h^ad for a long
time been worrying Simmons in an aimless way. It
gave him occupation. The two had their cots side by
side, and would sometimes spend a long afternoon
swearing at each other; but Simmons wfs afraid of
Losson and dared not challenge him to a fight. He
thought over the words in the hot still nights, and half
^e hate he felt towards Losson he vfnted on the
wretched punkah-coolie.
Losson bought a parrot in the bazar, and put it into a
little cage, and lowered the cage into the cool darkness
01 a well, and sat on the well-curb, shouting bad Ian-
guage down to the parrot. He taught ic to sav : . Sim-
mons,ye .»-»»r,' which means swine, and several other
things entirely unfit for publication. He was a bij
^3s man, and he shook like a jelly when the parrot
had the sentence correctly. Simmons, however, shook
with rage, for aU the room were laughing at him -the
parro was such a disreputable puff of green feathers
and It looked so human when it chattered. Losson
used to sit, swinging his fat legs, on the side of the cot
and ask the parrot what it thon^ht of Simmons. The
parrot would answer: ' Sirrur.cns, ye ,<«»..' "Good
,. „„„„ ,... caj, Bcra jDing the parrot's head;
if
II
80
IN THE MATTER OF A PRIVATE
(I
i
*ye ear that, Sim?' And Simmons used to turn over
on his stomach and make answer : ' I ear. Take 'eed
you don't 'ear something one of these days.'
In the restless nights, after he had been asleep all day,
fits of blind rage came upon Simmons and hold him till
he trembled all over, while he thought in how tuany
different ways he would slay Losson. Sometim.-s he
would picture himself trampling the life out of the man,
with heavy ammunition-boots, and at other> smashing
in his face with the butt, and at others jumping on his
shoulders and dragging the head back till the nec\bone
cracked. Then his mouth would feel hot and fevered,
and he would reach out for another sup of the beer in
the panr"" in.
But IK v.acy that came to him most frequently and
stayed v; fix him longest was one connected with the
great roll .>f fat under Lesson's right ear. He noticed
It first on a moonlight night, and thereafter it was always
before his eyes. It was a fascinating roll of fat. A
man could get his hand upon it and tear away one side
of the neck ; or he could place the muzzle of a ifle on it
and blow away all the head in a flash. Losson had no
right to be sleek and contented and well-to-do, when
he, Simmons, was the butt of the room. Some day,
perhaps, he would show those who laughed at the
* Simmons, ye ao-oor ' joke, that he was as good as the rest,
and held a man's life in the crook of his forefinger.
When Losson snored, Simmons hated him more bitterly
than ever. Why should Losson be able to sleep when
Simmons had to stay awake hour after hour, tossing and
turning on the tapes, with the dull liver pain gnawing
into his right side and his head throbbing and aching
after Canteen? He thought over this fo- many many
IN THE MATTER OP A PRIVATE
tobacco; aad all the "hUe h"'"' "° ^'"' '■^'^ """
made a mock of him ^ "™' *»"'»'* "' ""d
The heat coutmued and tho i
quickly than before A s! : " ''"™ '"'"y ""««
ni:^^it!i:S?~ti:?ti:
waitirinThe'dlnT'lT """'"^' """^ *« ■"- were
when limn.* ':' T^.:'""fT ">' '^-' W
took out his pZLa'u /V'*' *'"" °* •■'» bed.
bang that eohooTthroulrT '.'''' '^"^'^ ^'«' »
crack of a rifle o, "^ •, ^ ^'"^'''''' ''*™«k "ke the
have taken" onoSebuTtr*"^' '"^ "'^" -"«"
fiddle-strin,.3 TW ),. ^" ''"'™' ^^'^ ^^'ted to
Clattered .nio th!trrS:lXl'fi7 s" '"""
kneeling by his box ^ ^""^ Simmons
H^cztoTLii::::-"--"--
you Ihfnk r "hf said TI" 1? ^""^ • ^"-^ -"^^ "■"kes
went on; 'to HeU t th ^ .Tf '"*° '"'"^"^^ »« be
• Simmon ye ir* Tu'f> ^' ""^'^ 'P^'
mnda aleepilVf recollsin! f nf P"™' *" *e ve-
that waa abso'lnt^lyfr ^ "'"'"'"''"''' ™''=»- Now
^cl'ddtoir^'lh ""^ "™ '^" "^""^ o" *e arm-
I
mm^K^^mm
K^ ^
V
IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-S)
^
A
^/
1.0
I.I
mm, 125
^ m ■2.2
£ us 12.0
IL25 mil 1.4
RnllilB
ill 1.6
i IJUU-^dplULi
Sciences
Corporation
r<\^
\
<^
N'
23 WBT MAIN STRKIT
WEBSTM.N.Y. 14510
(7l6)a73-4S03
^2^%
//
A<if
e
4^'
82
IN THE MATTER OF A PRIVATE
I*.' *
tion. ♦Don't go playing the goat, SimI ' said Losson.
♦ Put it down,' but there was a quaver in his voice.
Another man stooped, slipped his boot and hurled it at
Simraons's head. The prompt answer was a shot which,
fired at random, found its billet in Losson's throat.
Losson fell forward without a word, and the others
scattered.
* You thought it was I ' yelled Simmons. ' You'ro
drivin' me to it I I tell you you're drivin' me to it I
Get up, Losson, an' don't lie shammin' there -— you an'
your blasted parrit that druv me to it I '
But there was an unaffected reality about Losson's
pose that showed Simmons what he had done. The
men were still clamouring in the veranda. Simmons
appropriated two more packets of ammunition and ran
into the moonlight, muttering: 'I'll make a night of
it. Thirty roun's, an' the last for myself. Take you
that, you dogs I *
He dropped on one knee and fired into the brown of
the men on the veranda, but the bullet flew high, and
landed in the brickwork with a vicious phwit that made
some of the younger ones turn pale. It is, as musketry
theorists observe, one thing to fire and another to be
fired at.
Then the instinct of the chase flared up. The news
spread from barrack to barrack, and the men doubled
out intent on the capture of Simmons, the wild beast,
who was heading for the Cavalry parade-ground, stop-
ping now and again to send back a shot and a curse in
the direction of his pursuers.
' I'll learn you to spy on me I ' he shouted ; ' I'll learn
you to give me dorg's names 1 Come on the 'ole lot
o' you I Colonel John Anthony Deever, C.B. I ' — he
I Losson.
is voice.
:led it at
►t which,
I throat,
e others
' You're
le to it I
- you an'
Losson's
8. The
jimmons
and ran
night of
ake you
)rown of
igh, and
at made
lusketry
ir to be
le news
doubled
d beast,
id, stop-
curse in
'11 leam
'ole lot
I ' — he
IN THE MATTER OF A PRIVATE gS
*i;r?K*T'^' '^' ^"^""'^^ ^««« ^«d «h00k his rifle-
_you think yourself the devil of a man -but I teU y^^
doo rilZr' ^T ""''' °^^^ ^'"^^-- outride o'S
cl^oor, 1 11 make you the poorest-Iookin' man in the armv
Come out. Colonel John Anthony Deever C R f r ^'
out and see me practiss on the vahZltil ^°T
shot of the 'ole bloon dn' battalion 't p o^f of' Xt
Lt-ir ~^ flred at the lighted l^^:^ o^the
lessly to the Colonel.^ ^^i^t^'^r^:t
to L thi. k" '^""^ ^''^''^ ^•^•' «^"i«d out, only
to 1^ saluted by a spurt of dust a. his feet. ^
^ull up I said the Second in Command- 'I don'f
'Don't shoot,' said he to the men round !.,%», n-i
as not you'll 'it me. HI iatch th:tSi'"'^ '
Simmons ceased shoutiuff for a whll. LH' •
-.n^, ...-^.^auuixig the Horse Battery, was coming
fill
I
i
84
IN THE MATTER OF A PRIVATE
back from a dinner in the Civil Lines; was driving
after his usual custom — that is to say, as fast as the
horse could go.
' A orf cer I A blooming spangled orf 'cer I ' shrieked
Simmons; Til make a scarecrow of that orf 'cer I'
The trap stopped.
* What's this?' demanded the Major of Gunners.
* You there, drop your rifle.'
' Why, it's Jerry Blazes I I ain't got no quarrel with
you, Jerry Blazes. Pass frien', an' all's well ! '
But Jerry Blazes had not the faintest intention of
passing a dangerous murderer. He was, as his adoring
Battery swore long and fervently, without knowledge
of fear, and they were surely the best judges, for Jerry
Blazes, it was notorious, had done his possible to kill a
man each time the Battery went out.
He walked towards Simmons, with the intention of
rushing him, and knocking him down.
* Don't make me do it. Sir,' said Simmons ; ' I ain „
got nothing agin you. Ah ! you would ?' — the Major
broke into a run — ' Take that then I '
The Major dropped with a bullet through his shoul-
der, and Simmons stood over him. He had lost the
satisfaction of killing Losson in the desired way : but
here was a helpless body to his hand. Should he slip
in another cartridge, and blow off the head, or with the
butt smash in the white face ? He stopped to consider,
and a cry went up from the far side of the parade-
ground: 'He's killed Jerry Blazes I' But in the
shelter of the well-pillars Simmons was safe, except
when he stepped out to fire. * I'll blow yer 'andsorae
'ead off, Jerry Blazes,' said bimmons reflectively. ' Six
an' three is nine an' one is ten, an' that leaves me
W THE MATTER Of A PBIVATE gS
the moonlight. " *'"'^''"' "* » '^n'' i"to
back with me' ^°"'' ""' ^'^ "»' "ome
you an' Jerry Blazes ' ^ ""^ "^"^^^
* T • u ^ .^^'^55^8 ead in, and shoot you aftpr '
'..: z:;tT rit t^^»-'' ^-^ '■'"-.' >•
B.a.es .W come out^'^w: h^ur nt'" cZ'"''
^t me. Jo„ daren-, ,ou bloomin'- do,'t:ter P "^ ""
*You lie, you man^ticker. You sneakin' qk
^Don-t misname me,' shouted Simmona, firing as he
oke. The shot missed, and the shont-r M.-5^^- .
-w his rifle down and rushed at SI.; tVZ
s
lf
rage
86
IN THE MATTER OF A PRIVATE
m
protection of the well. Within striking distance, he
kicked savagely at Slane's stomach, but the weedy Cor-
poral knew something of Simmons's weakness, and
knew, too, the deadly guard for that kick. Bowing
forward and drawing up his right leg till the heel of
the right foot was set some three inches above the in-
side of the left knee-cap, he met the blow standing
on one leg — exactly as Gonds stand when they medi-
tate — and ready for the fall that would follow. There
was an oath, the Corporal fell over to his own left as
shinbone met shinbone, and the Private collapsed, his
right leg broken an inch above the ankle.
; 'Pity you don't know that guard, Sim,' said Slane,
spitting out the dust as he rose. Then raising his voice
— Come an' take him orf. I've bruk 'is leg.' This
was not strictly true, for the Private had accomplished
hi. own downfall, since it is the special merit of that
leg-guard that the harder the kick the greater the
kicker's discomfiture.
Slane walked to Jerry Blazes and hung over him with
ostentatious anxiety, while Simmons, weeping with pain,
was carried away. -Ope you ain't 'urt badly, Sir,' said
Slane The Major had fainted, and there was an ugly,
ragged hole through the top of his arm. Slane knelt
down and murmured: «S'elp me, I believe 'e's dead,
well. If that am t my blooming luck all over ! '
But the Major was destined to lead his Battery afield
for many a long day with unshaken nerve. He was re-
moved, and nursed and petted into convalescence, while
the Battery discussed the wisdom of capturing Simmons,
and blowing him from a gun. They idolised their Major,
and his reappearance on parade brought about a scene
nowhere provided for in the Army Regulations.
IN THE MATTER OP A PRIVATE gj
Great, too, was the fflorv that f^ll f« gi » ,
puff him UD. Wh«„ fK "lu i^^® **""^ ^»d not
LnK th/Vi 'C™1 She™ """'T "'"'
aside tlie other B„f !,» i! j "'* °™ "'"' P»t
prefaced it with ma^v a^R. • " '!''""'* *" ■""''« ""^
^ "^ excessively 80. It was a gorgeous wedding.
^ # *
but I wasn't go „. to C Th ".""r'^ *" '"* "*•
Blazes ? Tf I - 1 .. . , ""®'' turn-out. Jerry
W hi ? T " * " *""""' something, Sim miJhl
ha blowed JeiTy Blazes' blooming 'ead into H^^rfl
stew for aught I'd 'a' cared.' «'«' 'nto Hirish
And they hanged Private Simmons -hanged hir ,
high as Haman in hollow souare of tl,„ •
the Colonel said it was Drink and th/r^""?"*' "
sure it was the DavI . T\ %'■ ^ Chaplam was
both Lft. . 1 .! , ' "'' S'-nmons fancied it was
both, but he didn't know, and only hoped his fZ
would be a warning to his companions -and half ^
' !|
'ii|
'i
BLACK JACK
To the wake av Tim O'Hara
Came company,
All St. Patrick's Alley
Was there to see.
Hobert Buchanan.
As the Three Musketeers share their silver, tobacco,
and liquor together, as they protect each other in bar-
racks or camp, and as they rejoice together over the joy
of one, so do they divide their sorrows. When Or-
theris's irrepressible tongue has brought him into cells
for a season, or Learoyd has run amok through his kit
and accoutrements, or Mulvaney has indulged in strong
waters, and under their influence reproved his Com-
manding Officer, you can see the trouble in the faces
of the untouched two. And the rest of the regiment
know that comment or jest is unsafe. Generally
the three avoid Orderly Room and the Corner Shop
that follows, leaving both to the young bloods who
have not sown their wild oats; but there are occa-
sions
For instance, Ortheris was sitting on the drawbridge
of the main gate of Fort Amara, with his hands in his
pockets and his pipe, bowl down, in his mouth. Lea-
royd was lying at full length on the turf of the glacis,
kicking his heels in the air, and I came round the
corner and asked for Mulvaney.
Ortheris spat into the ditch and shook his head.
88
i
BLACK JACK
80
.V cfr!;1Cr."»'^''-*0 O^"-. 'Vs a Woo™.
step that I could havT idTlffi i T' " '»«'>»»'ed
army. There were two^v nfn '" "'" "■"'"P "* ■»
and then twenty ZJl^l '"^"^ "'"'"^'' "^ ?"■"«.
-/.pra^c:rHrr;rw-,^^-:
Mulvaney was doine pack-drill
that is to say, to walk un „n!V T ~. ^'^ «'™pelled,
in full mJoiZolr'^J'u^ '^TV" "'"■"" ''">"«
«on, knapsack. ^a„r:^,:^fjt;d'"3;on^r™™'^
being dirty on naradpf t 7 . offence was
Ditch witlf asLCn't a„d:m;r/''« ''''
the smartest man that ever mmmS f" Mulvaney is
that's wot 'e is.' ' ^ ^'^^ ^^**^« Pigscraper,
'What did Mulvaney say? He'« nnf .i,
man to take that quietly.' """^ *^^ '"^^^ «*
* Said I Bin better for 'im if '«M .i, * v
Lord, 'ow we laughed I « W f » ? ""* '' "^^"*^-
I'm dirty. Well '? sez 'e .fT ' ' ''^' "^« «'^y
blow yo/r own teylrsllt;^^^^^^^ "^'M?^ ^^
wot dirt is Yn„'„ I,- •'^""i*^"' perhaps you'll know
sez -e, an" tten 1™. ."^™'^*''"y «'^'J'™t«d, Sar«rint.^
en ...„„.„. iiui after p'rade,'e was up
90
I?/
BLACK JACK
an Mu ms was sweariu' 'im«elf black in the face at
Ord ly Koom that Mulvaney 'ad called 'im a swine an'
Lord knows wot all. You know Mulling. 'E'll 'ave
iH ead broke in one o' these days. 'E's too big a
bloomin har for ord'nary consumption. " Three hours'
can an kit, 'sez the Colonel; "not for bein' dirty on
p rade, but for 'avin' said somethin' to Mullins, tho' I
do not believe, "sez 'e, "you said wot 'e said you said."
An Mulvaney fell away sayin' nothin'. You know 'e
never speaks to the Colonel for fear o' gettin' 'imself
iresh copped.'
Mullins, a very young and very much married Ser-
geant, whose manners w6re partly the result of innate
depravity and partly of imperfectly digested Board
School, came over the bridge, and most rudely asked
Urtheris what he was doing.
'Me?' said Ortheris. ^Owl I'm waiting for my
C mission. 'Seed it comin ' along yit ? '
Mullins turned purple and passed on. There was
the sound of a gentle chuckle from the glacis where
Learoyd lay.
» 'E expects to get 'is C'mission some day, ' explained
Orth ris; 'Gawd 'elp the Mess that 'ave to put their
ands into the same kiddy as 'imi Wot time d'you
make it. Sir? Fowerl Mulvaney '11 be out in 'arf an
hour. Youdon'twanttobuyadorg, Sir, doyou? A
pup you can trust - 'arf llampore by the Colonel's grey-
ound. ^ -^
'Ortheris,' I answered sternly, for I knew what was
in his mind, 'do you mean to say that '
nil ^'."^".^Tf" *"" ^'''' ^^''^y °' y''''^ any'ow,' said
Ortheris; 'I'd 'a' sold you the dorg good an' cheap,
but—but-I know Mulvaney'll want somethin' after
BLACK JACK
91
he held the Londoner over the dif,.|. -n \,- ^\
f b«««s,' Orth-ris. ma eo AhL i'^"""^ ''"'
eight an„„* „f „,» ^wn • h1 „, , ^"' °"* "''"'«
-placed 0..the..U IX arl^:^^' "'"'" """
mi^s or three or Wr,- Lr/ortUr ""'-''^"'
unde„^ .talked into the sunshine Z 'ht'd^w
lean upon thl nT T' '""""^ '"''"''« "« horses
of the^-^h °"r' f ^ '^"""^ ■""» -"tched thel^;re,
a1:l th?;Tai,f "Tr**'" «™" ^"'""^^ ""I -"""
oS out ?or; T^^ """'* '"*"''■'» ■" *■«' »« they
W "m; eVhedm'"" *^'' ''"•^ -^-
m ttie belt of trees that fringes the low land by the
!^ I
02
BLACK JACK
Vii
I followed slowly, and Hightod them-du«ty, aweat-
mg, but still keeping up their long, swinging tramp —
on the river bank. They crashed through the Forest
Reserve, headed towards the Bridge of Boats, and pros-
ently established themselves on the Ijow of one of the
pontoons. I rode cautiously till I saw three puffs of
white smoke rise and die out in the clear evening air,
and knew that peace had come again. At the bridge-
head they waved me forward with gestures of welcome,
lie up your 'orse,' shouted Ortheris, * an' come on,
Sir. We re all goin' 'ome in this 'ere bloomin' boat.'
From the bridg-j-head to the Forest Officer's bunga-
low 18 but a step. The mess-iuan was there, and would
see that a man held my horse. Did the Sahib require
aught else -a peg, or beer? Ritchie Sahib had left
half a dozen bottles of the latter, but since the Sahib
was a friend of Ritchie Sahib, and he, the mess-man,
was a poor man
I gave my order quietly, and returned to the bridtje.
Mulvaney iiad taken off his boots, and was dabbling
his toes in the water; Learoyd was lying on his back
on the pontoon; and Ortheris was pretending to row
with a big bamlwo.
*rm an ould fool,' said Mulvaney, reflectively,
dhraggm you two out here bekaze I was undher the
Black Dog-sulkin' like a child. Me that was sol-
dierin when Mullins, an' be damned to him, was
shquealm' on a counterpin for five shillin' a week-
an that not paid I Bhoys, I've took you five miles out
av natural pevarsity. Phew I'
'Wot's the odds so iong as you're 'appy?' said Or-
theris, applying himself afresh to the' bamboo. 'As
well 'ere as anywhere else.'
BLACK JACK
teen, «.l ...on, »■ M„,v,:;"^. ut „ j h. ^ '' '""•
ye did not_r,w til ^tl Tf ■" '""'■""' """^ '{
lcno,v betther. Hu TwTu d? ""' ""'" """"S'""
buSw;:j:tl"''''''^- , ^•"^ """- "f ""> Forest
Si./ said o^ii f:LXri%^r''rT-
nies8-man: 'Easy wiH, th.rl lu . ^'*'^" ^ ^^'«
thouSffie^ ^y "^^ -"^^ ""-^ -^ we
weTrw^;i:.^^l~i„.r«':T i- "-t --^^'^^^
times _ nor >e ainVflf , *; * ^^ "* 'P''''» '" "i^e
takes 'im tm 'e i" • *" ''*^' *'°°« ""'^er. So we
tHe^st:!^ .r^ ^;!. "^^^ -!'. '.'«-<' »trai,ht into
!'■ i
94
BLACK JACK
'if! I
had my Uj „,t, an' MuUins came round the comer, an'
he looked m my face an' grinned dishpiteful. " You
can t blow your own nose, " sez he. Now, I cannot tell
fwhat Mulhns's expayrience may ha' been, but, Mother
av God, he waa nearer to hU death that minut' than I
have iver been to mine -and that's less than the thick-
nussavahair!'
'Yes,' said Ortheris calmly, ' you'd look fine with all
your buttons took orf, an' the Band in front o' you,
walkm roun' slow time. We're both front-rank men
me an Jock, when the rig'ment's in 'oUow square
Lord toketh awa.,_Heasy with that there dropl-
Blessed be the naime o' the Lord,'" he gulped in a
quamt and suggestive fashion.
'Mullinsl Wot's Mullins?' said Learoyd slowly.
Ah d take a coomp'ny o' Mullinsos _ ma hand behind
me. hitha, Mulvaney, don't be a fool.'
Jou were not cheeked for fwhat you did not do, an'
made a moek av afther. 'Twas for less than that the
Tyrone wud ha' sent O'Hara to hell, instid av lettin'
' That ould fool who's sorry he didn't stick the pig
Mullms.' His head dropped again. When he raised
It he shivered and put his hands on the shoulders of
ills two companions.
' Ye've walked the Divil out av me, bhoys,' said he.
Ortheris shot out the red-hot dottel of his pipe on the
ttt . ^\^'^ t'- ' ^"^y '*y 'E"'» "to than
that, said he, as Mulvaney swore aloud.
be
BLACK JACK
95
be
wamed so. Look vondfirf ' i.^ - ,. ■,
rij to a ™,„ed J^fe -'• m1 a .^^ • ^'1-^
wton H. made a bloomin' show o' myself. You in^
rtrri"Vott:ta.7;": «' - o„viiX
o- yourself now ' * "^'^^'^ "<»'"'"' «>>»"
' Don't mind him, Mulvanev ,' I said- ' n;«o». ai, jj
won't let you hang you^elf yl aJhll and ^ dt •*
ntod to t,yit either. ..efs he., ab^ut the T^ne
t ? wT- .^^'^y ^''»' •"'» f» fooling wuni
wife. What happened before that" «"'*'>'>«
There's no fool like an ould fool. You know von
can do anythin' wid me whin I'm talkin'. oTd I say
I wud like to cut MuUins's liver out? I deny the
-C Y<;u" dT ''"' .*'^'''™ "-« -<^ -P"t -
ouiet litHr ! "' ''"° *« "™'' ^"d y"? Sit
quiet, little man. Anyways, MuUins is not worth the
troub e av an e.try p'»de, an' I will tj; Um wW
outrajis eontimpt. The Tyrone an' O'H^al fVwT
took into the mouth, but they're always inside thf
Followed a long pause.
'O'Hara was a Divil. Though I saved him. for the
honour av the rig'mint, from hif death that ti^e I say
Jt^now. He was a Divil -a long, bould. black'O.
'Which way?' asked Oitheris.
'Women.'
'Then I know another.'
'Not more than in reason, if yo„ m»n» "-» a
walkin'^htick. I have been young:-;r.''fo7wvSd
96
BLACK JACK
3» V M
Corpnl, use the me av my rank -wan step an' that
taken away, more's the sorrow an' the fault av mel-
to prosecnt* a nefarious inthrigue, as O'Hara did?
Did I whin I was Coqi'ril, lay my spite upon a man an'
make his life a dog's life from day to day? Did I Z
as O'Hara lied, till the young wans in the Tyrot'
Demes? I did not! I have sinned my sins an' I have
made my oonfesshin, an' Father Victor knows the woi«t
R»/"; . ^ ""^ '"^' ^^""^ ^^ ""d "pake, on
Rafferty a doorstep, an' no man knows the wors av
him. But this much I know!
'The Tyrone was recruited any fashion in the onld
aays. A draf from Connemara-a draf from Ports-
mouth-a draf from Kerry, an' that was a bla.in' bad
draf -here, there and iverywhere - but the We av
!^0^^ "^? ~ ^^'^^ ^''''^ Now thei^ are Oirish
an Oinsh. The good are good as the best, but the
bad are wurrst than the wurrst. 'Tis this way. Thev
olog topther in pieces as fast as thieves, an' no wan
knows fwhat they will do till wan turns informer an'
mL^'^ll ^ . ^"' "' ^^"^ *g*'»' <" day later,
meetm in holes an' corners an' swearin' bloody oaths
an shtiokm' a n.an in the back an' mnnin' away, an'
thin waiW for the blood-money on the reward papera _
to see If uts worth enough. Those are the Black
Oirish, an tis they that bring dishgrace upon the name
av Orreland, an' thim I wud kill -as I nearly kiUed
wan wanst. ^ ^"leu
'But to reshume. My room -'twas before I was
married — was wid twelve av the scum av the earth ^
BLACK JACK
nlCu^^i.Vtii.'T-r''' ™" *•«'' -0
»hud The^thri:d'leTvS2rt™h' T " ""
but I dhrew a line round mvL » ' J "''' °" '°''
thransgressed ut wint into hZitel for fh r"" *="
' O'Hara had put hia sdL „Ttt "^^ ^"^^ «'"'<'•
Colour Sargintian^'irnCdrrtotr^H-^
I was younger than I am now an' T f„t , ? •""•
the way ay daessing down Id^„„ f "'f* ' «"* '»
•ny tongue in my cheek R.t^-f^^""""^''"" "'^
othe«, L why /eltt aay, exdpUhae ""* "'•* *"^
their ohune torf^/.^t;4lr^%r^^^
av thim oursin- O'Hara in chorus ^~" ""''"
Let him go. HeUlt!t « T^ T^ '" *« ^'"W?
our Wiment X::J L?^'""' ^ ^^'^ ^oul an'
"'Wewm«««lethimgo,"sez"they.
'"Thin fake him," sez I "an' » ^ ., j
you will get for you; tCuble '' ^""'^ ^' ^'"'^
^^r'':Zt,T'"'''"'*^' '''™^" -d Slimmy's
* " That's thrue," sez T.
*"I ^^1 br^ak his head upon his shoulthers av he
i
if
II
98
BLACK JACK
puts hand on me," sez I. « I will give him the lie av
he says that I'm dhirty, an' I wud not mind duckin'
him ni the Artillery troughs if ut was not that I'm
tbrym' for my shtripes."
' " Is that all ye will do ? " sez another. « Have ye
no more spunk than that, ye blood-dhrawn calf?"
' " Blood-dhrawn I may be,'' sez I, gettin' back to
my cot an' makiu' my line round ut ; « but ye know
that the man who comes acrost this mark will be more
blood-dhrawn than me. No man gives me the name in
my mouth," I sez. « Ondersthan I, I will have no part
wid you m anythin' ye do, nor will I raise my fist to
my shuperior. Is any wan comin' on ? " sez I.
* They made no move, tho' I gave them full time,
but stud growlin' an' snarlin' together at wan ind av
the room. I tuk up my cap and wint out to Canteen,
thinkiu' no little av mesilf, and there I grew most
ondacintly dhrunk in my legs. My head was all
reasonable.
' " Houligan," I sez to a man in E Comp'ny that was
by way av bein' a frind av mine ; "I'm overtuk from
the belt down. Do you give me the touch av your
shoulther to presarve my formation an' march me acrost
the ground into the high grass. I'll sleep ut ofP there,"
sez I ; an' Houligan — he's dead now, but good he was
while he lasted — walked wid me, givin' me the touch
whin I wint wide, ontil we came to the high grass, an',
my faith, the sky an' the earth was fair rowlin' undher
me. I made for where the grass was thickust, an' there
I slep' off my liquor wid an easy conscience. I did not
desire to come on books too frequent ; my characther
havin' been shpotless for the good half av a year.
* Whin I roused, thfi Hhrinlr vv«>ci /!,,;«' «„f : »
BLACK JACK
99
I felt as though a she-oat had littered in my mouth T
had not learned to hould my li.uor wircomfort in
thim days 'Tis '.ttle betther I am now. "I wTu "t
ean take the blame av ut for the backsUdin' hound he
gong fwhat 13 the blame that this young man moot
'I turned on my belly an' crawled through the grass
a bit at a t.me, to where the spache came f^n! S
was the twelve av my room sittin' down i„ a iS
patch, the dhry grass wavin' above their heads an' the
smav black murdherin their hearts. I put the stuff
aside to get a clear view.
M. -u,^: f ys Vulmea. "You're a nice hand to
y pb ! As I said, Mulvaney will take the blame -
av ut comes to a pinch." wame —
""Tis harrd to swear a man's life away," sez a
young wan. •'' ^^ *
'"Thank ye for that." thinks I. "Now, fwhat the
diyil arc you paraginsconthrivin' against me?"
lis as easy as dhrinkin' your quart," sez Vulmea
"At seven or thei^on, O'Hara will come acrost to tie
Married Quarteis, goin' to call on Slimmy's wife! the
swine I Wan av us'U pass the wurrd to fhe room an'
we shtart the divU an' all av a shine -la„^^ a^'
craekm' on an' t'rowin' our boote about. Thin O^I"
....1 come tu give us tue ordher to be quiet, the more
by token bekaze the room-lamp will be knocked oveTL
100
BLACK JACK
the larkin'. He will take the straight road to the ind
door where there's the lamp in the veranda, an' that'll
bring him clear against the light as he shtands. He
will not be able to look into the dhark. Wan av us
will loose off, an' a close shot ut will be, an' shame to
the man that misses. 'Twill be Mulvaney's rifle, she
that is at the head av the rack — there's no mistakin'
that long-shtocked, cross-eyed bitch even in the dhark."
*The thief misnamed my ould firin'-piece out av
jealousy — I was pershuaded av that — an' ut made me
more angry than all.
» But Vulmea goes on : « O'Hara will dhrop, an' by
the time the light's lit again, there'll be some six av us
on the chest av Mulvaney, cryin' murdher an' rape.
Mulvaney's cot is near the ind door, an' the shmokin'
rifle will be lyin' undher him whin we've knocked him
over. We know, an' all the rig'mint knows, that
Mulvaney has given O'Hara more lip than any man av
us. Will there be any doubt at the CoortrMartial ?
Wud twelve honust sodger-bhoys swear away the life
av a dear, quiet, swate-timpered man such as is Mul-
vaney — wid his line av pipe-clay roun' his cot, threat-
enin' us wid murdher av we overshtepped ut, as we can
truthful testify?"
*"Mary, Mother av Mercy I" thinks I to mesilf ; "it
is this to have an unruly mimber an' fistes fit to use 1
Oh the sneakin' hounds I "
* The big dhrops ran down my face, for I was wake
wid the liquor an' had not the full av my wits about
me. I laid shtill an' heard thim workin' themselves up
to swear my life by tellin' tales av ivry time I had put
my mark on wan or another ; an' my faith, they was
few that was not so dishtinguished. 'Twas all in the
I
BLACK JACK
101
way av fair fight, though, for niver did I raise my hand
excipt whin they had provoked me to ut.
*"Tis all well," sez wan av thim, "but who's to do
this shootin' ? "
'"Fwhat matther?" sez Vulmea. "'Tis Mulvaney
will do that — at the Coort-Martial."
*"He will so," sez the man, "but whose hand is put
to the trigger — m the room?''
»" Who'll do ut?" sez Vulmea, lookin' round, but
dml a man answeared. They began to dishput- till
Kiss, that was always playin' Shpoil Five, sez: "Thry
the kyards I " Wid that he opined his tunic an' tuk
out the greasy palammers, an' they all feU in wid
the notion.
' « Deal on I " sez Vulmea, wid a big rattlin' oath,
"an' the Black Curse av Shielygh come to the man
that will not do his duty as the kyards say. Amin I "
*« Black Jack is the masther," sez Kiss, dealin'.
Black Jack, Sorr, I shud expaytiate to you, is the Ace
av Shpades which from time immimorial has been inti-
mately connect wid battle, murdher an' suddin death.
'Wanst Kiss dealt an' there was no sign, but the
men was whoite wid the workin's av their sowls.
Twice Kiss dealt, an' there was a gray shine on their
cheeks like the mess av an egg. Three times Kiss dealt
an' they was blue. "Have ye not lost him?" sez Vul-
mea, wipin' the sweat on him ; " Let's ha' done quick ! "
"Quick ut is," sez Kiss t'rowin' him the kyard; an' ut
fell face up on his knee — Black Jack I
*Thin they all cackled wid laughin'. "Duty thrip-
pence," sez wan av thim, "an' damned cheap at that
price!" But I ''pd °op fh"" uli 'i^-. -. ■••f'
I -- 1 — ij i .,usi ,>,^e \jii\jj ail ixuruvv a iitEie away
from Vulmea an' lef him sittin' playin' wid the kyard.
102
BLACK JACK
I i
Vulmea aez no word for a whoile but licked his li™
cat-ways. Thin he threw up his head an' made t^
men swear by ivry oath known to stand by ht Z
'"11'' 7": 'n' t f' Coort-Martial that wast
set on m«/ He tould off five av the biggest to stretch
my rifle V^ ^"'Z"' '^"^ "f '' »"' J"^' »"<'"'«' *» load
my rifle He wud not do that himself • an' th»f ™o„
quare for 'twas but a little thing con^derfn" "^
Ihin they swore over again tliat they wud not be
waTf two" rr- ''a *'"^' °"' "^ *^ s'- '" "«'n^
ways, two by two. A mercy ut was that they did not
come on me. I was sick ,wid fear in the pH av mv
st„mm.ck -sick, sick, sick 1 Afther they wL all go"e
I wmt back to Canteen an' oaUed for a quart to put »
thought :n me. Vulmea was there, dhri.lin' heav^"an'
pohteful to me beyond reason. "Fwhat will I^o-
fwhat wJI I do ? " thinks I to mesilf whin Vulmea It
'Presintly the Arm'rer Sargint comes in stiffin' an'
crackm' on not pleased wid any wan, beka.e the MarZl
Henn be.n' new to the rig'mint in those days we used
to play the mischief wid her arrangemints^ ^TwTa
long time before I cud get out av the way av thrv^to
P«ll back the backlight an' turnin' her over afthTrfiri^
— as if she was a Snider.
seJth!t^.''"T""" ^'' '^"^^''^ ""« *° ™'k wid?"
Ta tIbtT,Tw^'"*- " ^''''' ""g""' h- nose flat
^ a table, la^d by for a week, an' ivry Comp'ny sendin'
their arrums in knocked to small shivreens."
FVhat's wrong wid Hogan, Sargint?" sez I.
Wrong! sez the Arm'rer Sargint; »I showed
lum. as though I had been his moLri the ^^it
BLACK JACK
103
^^R ! '''''u'' ^' '^'^"P ^'' °l^^« «"' easy. I
tould him to put her to again an' fire a blank into the
Wow^it to show how the dirt hung on the groovin'
He did that, but he did not put in th! pin av t'e ZZl
b ock, an av coorse whin he fired he was strook by the
block jumpin' clear. Well for him 'twas but a blank -
a tull charge wud ha' cut his oi out."
^I looked a thrifle wiser than a boiled sheep's head.
Hows that, Sargint ? " sez I. -
;"This way, ye blundherin' man, an' don't you be
dom ut,' sez he. Wid that he shows me a Waster
action -the breech av her all cut away to show the in-
!w7rw?I^'''^^^ '"^^ *° ^'""^^^^ *hat he dimon-
strated fwhat Hogan had done twice over. "An' that
comes av not knowin' the wepping you're purvided
wid, sez he.
-'Thank ye, Sargint," sez Ij "I will come to you
again for further information."
J."? "Ii^ T''\''' ^'' "^^P« y«"r clanin'-rod
away from the breech-pin or you will get into throuble."
I wmt outside an' I could ha' danced wid delight
for the grandeur av ut. « They will load my rifle, good
luck to thim, whoile I'm away," thinks I, and bafk I
wmt to the Canteen to give them their clear chanst.
The Canteen was fiUin' wid men at the ind av the
day. I made feign to be far gone in dhrink, an', wan by
wan, aU my roomful came in wid Vulmea. I wint
away, walkin' thick an' heavy, but not so thick an'
heavy that any wan cud ha' tuk me. Sure and thrue,
there was a kyartridge gone from my pouch an' lyin'
snugmmy rifle. I was hot wid rage against thim all,
an I worried the bullet out wid m,r +«ofi, „„ r^.x _ x
cud, tJie room bein' empty. Then _ tuk my Doo„ an'
104
BLACK JACK
I 'I
block. Ol,, uvm music when that pin rowled on the
fluro! I put ut into my pouch «„• stuck a dab av dTrt
" TW lt„' '" ^K ''•'"''• P"""'' *''^ f-'ll'^'-Wock back.
tou a ;• T r; r '" "" ""^ '='"=^' ^^ ^^"^^ «'->» av
d,vl ! ^'"' ^'"' *" ™y '»^<"» f" the biggest
divas hat ivcr cheated halter." I wud have no mfrcy
onVulmea. H.s oi or his lite - little I cared I
'At dusk they came back, the twelve av thim an'
hi'cot Wa*"^" ''""''"'• ^--^O-niin-srepon
T t ,,IT r" '^'"' ""'^'''^ '" the veranda. Whin
he whishtled they began' to rage roun' the room an"
carry on tremenjus. But I niver want to hear men
ja'cktls^ ^ ^^ <»i<l-skylarkin- tool 'Twas like mad
'"Shtop that blasted noise ! " sez O'Hara in the dark,
an pop goes the room lamp. I cud hear O'Hara runnin'
breahn heavy as they stud roun' my cot. I cud see
OHara m the hght av the veranda lamp, an' thin I
hearf the o-ck av my rifle. She cried loud, poor trl-
int, bein mishandled. Next minut' five men were honld-
m medown " Go easy," I sez ; " fwhafs ut all about ?"
■nin Vulmea, on the flure, raised a howl you cud
hear from wan mdavcantonmints to the other. "I'm
dead, I m butehered, I'm blind I " sez he. " Saints have
»ercy on my sinful sowll Sind for Father Co^tenl
Oh smd for Father Constant an' let me go clean I " By
that I knew he was not so dead as I cud ha' wished.
O Kara picks up the lamp in the vemnda wia a hand
as stiddy as a rest. "Fwhat damned dog's thrick is
this av vonra?" »o, h'" i— ! '-,. ■• ,• i
., ___ u^, a^ia luiiis loe light on Tim
i
BLACK JACK
105
Vulmea that was shwimmin' in blood from top to toe.
Ihe fallin -block had sprung free behin' a full charge av
powther -good care I tuk to bite down tlie bi^s afther
takin out the bullet that there might be somethin' to
give utfull worth -an' had cut Tim from the lip to
the corner ay the right eye, lavin' the eyelid in tatthera,
an so up an along by the forehead to the hair. 'Twas
more av a rakin' plough, if you will ondhei^tand, tlian
did T^'J^'.^^T ^'"^ ^ ''' ^ "^^^ Weed as Vulmea
the blood strong. The minut' the men sittin' on my
chest heard O'Hara spakin' they scatthered each wan to
h.8 cot,an cried out very politeful; "Fwhat is ut, Sar-
*«Fwhat is utl"8ez O'Hara, shakin' Tim. "Well
an good do you know fwhat ut is, ye skulkin' ditch-
lurkm dogs I Get a doolie, an' take this whimperin'
scutt away. There will be more heard av ut than any
av you will care for." ^
'Vulmea sat up rockin' his head in his hand an'
moanin' for Father Constant.
l.„-"^«v""f^"''' ^'""^' ^^'^Sgin^ ^^ ^P by the
Hair. You re none so dead that you cannot go fifteen
years for thryin' to shoot me."
*«I did not," sez Vulmea; "I was shootin' mesilf."
^ Thats quare," sez O'Hara, "for the front av my
jackut IS black wid your powther." He tuk up the
rifle that was stU warm an' began to laugh. "I'll
make your life x ell to you," sez he, "for attempted
murdher an kapin' your rifle onproperly. You'll be
hanged first an' thin put undher stoppages for four
fifteen. The riflfi's don^^ f^v " --t ^^
*"Why, 'tis my rifle I" sez I, comin' up to look;
m
SULf^K JACK
I'll
"VOilW, jr. diril, fffhat were j , , doin' wid her-
answoimo tli.iit?" -ma net—
'. .'! I^n™ "^ *'''"*•" '"^ '^«1'"«» : " I'm dyin- ( "
I wa,t till you're botther," sez I, "an" thin we
two will talk ut out umbrageous."
bulTr f,"=''«'',7','» ""° *« *"-' """^ too tinder,
but all the bhoys kep' by their cote, which was not the
fall unblock, but not findin' ut at all. I niver found ut
'"*.„ fwhat will I do?" eez O'Hara, swingingthe
iTad hi"'' '; "" !•""" ""' '-'''"' <1-™ the foot
Lad twl * r'T^' "^ °'"''™ »»' I have now,
dead tho he ,8, but, for rtll that, will I say he was a
I wish he cud hear that, whin he s.ud lookin' down
the room an' the bhoys shivered before the oi av Wm I
knew lum for a brave man an' I liked him .<,. '
Fwhat wiU I do ? " sez O'Hara agin, an' we heard
«je voice avawoman lowan'sof'in the^eranda 'Tw^
Shmmy 8 wife come over at the shot, sittin' on wanT^
the benches an' scarce able t» walk.
yon ? " ^"'"^ ' ~ "^""^' ''^"'•" ^"^ '■'''• " h*™ they kilt
teeth 't?/b«'°°''"' 17" '}' """" '^'' ""' '^"^"^ hi'
teeth to the gum. Then he spat on the flure.
ye doL°"av"'r.w"u''"''' ^'- "^'ght that lamp,
Z&^l- i^"' .•" 'T'^ away, an' I saw him
walkm off « . Simmy's wife ; she thiyin' to wipe off
htdr f''.^" ' ''■ '''^ '"■™' "^ his jackut wid her
handkerchief ■ bi^-.e man you are," thinks I-"a
brave man an' :, ,„., woman."
'No wan said a word for a time. They was all
ashamed, past spache. ey was au
BLACK .TACK
107
at last. " He knows wo'ro all in ut."
.0 ' "hat r" '" ' "T, ' /""" "y •="'• " T'-e man that
w^ .hat lu me w>U bo hurt. I ,lo not know " ,oz I
IZh r ?' ' ''"°"' """ y-"' «'""">t commit
myhrd offX;: r,: r- '.»-• :-• you can uow
a Lg time, c:' Ve tender?" ""' '"""" '"""«"• *"-
'Next mom the news was through all the ritr'mint
an there was nothin' that the men id not t U. O'Ham
reports fa.r an> easy, that Vnlmea was come to gZl
through tamperin- wid his rifle in barricks all fo! f„
tri^inrt""'"':^- .^"' 'y "^ -wi,Te'rd"t, 'i:.
partninee to say that he was on the shpot at the time
an cud cert.fy that ut was an accidint I Vou mSit ha'
knoeted my roomful down wid a straw whin h"fh Lrf
tnrym to find out how the new rifle was made, an' a lot
av gri 1' r: "" Ir "^'"' *^ P"" "^ ''^^'^^^
nlafZ tl^ 'If' P"' "^ *•'« '°»k that showed
I will not have this foolishness I " sez the Colonel
sal'L X ; ""' "^ ''"""''' ' " ^' ''«■• •'»* -h^ . ■
ms will "Make him an early convalescint," sez he t«
the Doctor, an' Vulmea was m'ade so for a wIrnTn' H^
big bloody bandages an' face pu.kered up to wan sfde
<J.d more to kape the bhoys from messin' wi,m! -IS^!
ar ineir rides tlian any punishmint.
108
BLACK JACK
O Kara gave no reason for fwhat he'd said, an' all
my roomful were too glad to inquire, tho' he put his
spite upon thim more wearin' than before. Wan day
howiver he tuk me apart very polite, for he cud be that
at the choosm'.
unt man," sez he.
""Tis not like you," sez he, "to lave your rifle in
the rack widout the breeoh-pin, for widout the breecTi-
pin she was whin Vulinea fired. I should ha' found
the break ay ut in the eyes ay the holes, else," he sez.
w. J"^lf \ '"'J' "^"^^ ^""J y»" 1«« ha' been
worth av the breech-pin had been in place, for, on my
sowl my life wud be worth just as much to me ay I
tould you whether ut was or was not. Be thankful
the bullet was not there," I sez. '
T 1 " '^'lfV"'™«;" »e^ he, pulling his moustache ; " but
I do not beheye that you, for all your lip, was in that
uuoiiiess«
*"Sargint," sez I, «I cud hammer the life out av a
man m ten mmuts wid my fistes if that man dishpleased
me ; for I am a good sodger, an' I will be threated as
such, an whoile my fistes are my own they're strong
enough for all work I have to do. They do not fly
back towards me ! " sez I, lookin' him betune the eyes.
You re a good man," sez he, lookin' me betune the
eyes — an oh he was a gran'-built man to seel-
you re a good man," he sez, «an' I cud wish, for the
pure frohc av ut, that I wa^ not a Sargint, or that you
were not a Privit; an' you will think me no coward
whin I say this thinrr "
BLACK JACK
109
Idonot, sezl. "I saw you whin Vulmea mis-
handled the rifle. But, Sargint," I sez, « take the
wurrd from me now, spakin' as man to man wid the
shtripes off, tho' 'tis little right I have to talk, me being
f what I am by natur'. This time ye tuk no harm, an'
next time ye may not, but, in the ind, so sure as Slim-
my s wife came into the veranda, so sure will ye take
harm — an' bad harm. Have thought, Sargint," sez I.
" Is ut worth ut ? "
'" Ye're a bould man," sez he, breathin' harrd. "A
very bould man. But I am a bould man tu. Do you
go your way, Privit Mulvaney, an' I will go mine."
' We had no further spache thin or afther, but, wan
by another, he drafted the twelve av my room out into
other rooms an' got thim spread among the Comp'nies,
for they was not a good breed to live together, an' the'
Comp'ny orf 'cers saw ut. They wud ha' shot me in the
night av they had known fwhat I knew; but that thev
did not. ■^
'An', in the ind, as I said, O'Hara met his death
from Rafiferty for foolin' wid his wife. He wint his
own way too -well — Eyah, too well! Shtraight to
that affair, widout turnin' to the right or to the lef
he wint, an' may the Lord have mercy on his sowl'
Amin I '
"Earl 'Ear I 'said Ortheris, pointing the moral with
a wave of his pipe. 'An' this is 'im 'oo would be a
b oomin Vulmea all for the sake of Mullins an' a
bloomm' button ! Mullins never went after a woman
in his life. Mrs. Mullins, she saw 'im one day '
Ortheris,' I said, hastily, for the romances of Private
-!.,..„. «.„ all twu uiiiiiig lor puDiication, 'look at the
sun. It's a quarter past six I '
!f
no
BLACK JACK
Ihe Three Musketeers clambered on to tho hv,'^
n. Tto« M^bi^' w ,„M,d lit, ,1, „|jii
ive an' a
8 bridge,
itonnient
two stir-
istically.
s trotted
ed road,
carriage
n it sat
)pressed
lighter
light.
POOR DEAR MAMMA
The wild hawk to the wind-swept sky.
The deer to tlie wholesome wold
And the heart of a man to the heart of a maid - '
As It was in the days of old, ''°^*™ai'»»
Gypsy Song.
^^Z~JT'T "^J"'"' *'°'^« THK.EGAK-S M.
room at Smla. Miss Thbeegan, in windowuat
COTOT, ho>om-fnend, who U» come to spend the day eit-
t^ngon the M, narapulatvng the lodle of a ZtooL
frock and a hunch ofartijicial lUie> of the valley. nZ
6^0 P.M. on a hot May afternoon. ^ '
tret r, ^''^r^^- A°d '« said: •! shall never for-
you be so sdlyl Do you think he meant anything,
Miss Threegan. iExtraeting l^ lavender silk
>t^^n,from the ruUuh.-) You know hin, bett than
Miss D Oh, do be sympathetic, Minnie I I'm mre
Miss T. I suppose so. How does one manage to
stTe uYrf,^^^^^^^^^ Lookatthisl^I^t-:
inspection.-^ ^ ^ ^tock^ng.heel on open hand for
Miss D. Never mind that I You
111
can't mend it.
Jf I HI
If
: ■ ■5? ' 'N^S
112
POOR DEAR MAMMA
Help me with this hateful bodice, IVe run the string
so, and I've run the string so, and I can't make the ful-
ness come right. Where would you put this ? ( Waves
lilies of the valley.')
Miss T. As high up on the shoulder as possible.
Miss D. Am I quite tall enough ? I know it makes
May Olger look lop-sided.
MissT. Yes, but May hasn't your shoulders.
Hers are like a hock-bottle.
Bearer. {Rapping at door.) Captain Sahib ay a.
Miss D. (Jumping up wildly, and hunting for body,
which she has discarded owing to the heat of the day )
Captain Sahib I What Captain Sahib? Oh, good gra-
cious, and I'm only half dressed ! Well, I sha'n't bother.
Miss T. (Calmly.) You needn't. It isn't for us
mt's Captain Gadsby. He is going for a ride with
Mamma. He generally comes five days out of the
seven.
Agonised Voice. (From an inner apartment.)
Minnie, run out and give Captain Gadsby some tea,
and tell him I shall be ready in ten minutesj and, O
Minnie, come to me an instant, there's a dear girl T
Miss T. Oh, bother I (Aloud.) Very well
Mamma. '
Iladt, and reappears, after five minutes, flushed, and
rubbing her fingers,
MissD. You look pink. What has happened ?
Miss T. (In a stage whisper.) A twenty-four-inch
waist, and she won't let it out. Where are my bangles ?
(Rummages on the toilet-table, and dabs at her hair with
a brush in the interval.)
Miss D. Who is this Captain Gadsby? I don't
think I've met him.
POOR DEAB MAMMA jjo
sef Tvl' , "^"TttT- "" ^^""^^ *° *■»« "Ta^r
him He s a big yellow man, just like a newly-hatched
ckcken, w,th an e-normou. moustache. He walks like
this CtmMe, Cavalry magger), and he goes 'Ha-
Hmmml deep down in his throat when he can't think
of anything to say. Mamma likes him. I don't
tache? ■ ^^*'*"^^'''2'-) Does he wax that mous-
^MissT. (_Bmy with powder-pnff.y Yes, I think so.
MissD iBendiry over the bodice and »emng fun-
ously.) Oh, nothing — only
EmZ ^" ^*'"''^-^ ^'^y ''^" O"' ™th it,
Miss D. Well, May Olger-she's engaged to Mr
^Zr '^~^<l-r-ise%^ou won^
MissT. Yes, I promise. What did she say'
Miss D. That-that being kissed (mth a Lhy by
a man who d,dn't wax his moustache was -like eating
an egg without salt. ^atuig
Miss T. (At her full heigU,with cruMng ,eom.)
May Olger ^ a horrid, nasty Thing, and you can teU
her I said so. I'm glad she doesn't belong to my set-
TlVV""^ *f """' • ^^ I '"»'' presentable ?
miss D. Yes, perfectly. Be quick and hand him
over to your Mother, and then we can talk. I shall
listen at the door to hear what you say to him.
taifaadV™ ' '"'' ""■ ''^ ""' ^"^^ "' ^''^
In proafoftM, «,.„^, ,•„,, <?«»,V^.™<,„, ,«,.-eA „ „„„„^j
««nrfe /oiWerf Jj, two ,hcrt steps, which produces
II
114
POOR DEAR MAMMA
II I
tJie effect of a restive horse entering. Misses Cap-
tain Gadsby, who is sitting in the shadow of the
window-curtain, and gazes round helplessly.
Captain Gadsby. (iAside.-) The filly, by Jovef
Must ha picked up that action from the sire. (Aloud
rising.^ Good evening, Miss Threegan. '
Miss T. {Conscious that she is flushing.^ Good
evening, Captain Gadsby. Mamma told me to say that
she will be ready in a few minutes. Won't you have
some tea? (^Aside?, I hope Mamma will be quick.
What am I to say to the creature? (Aloud and
abruptly.^ Milk and sugar?
Capt. G. No sugar, tiia-anks, and very Uttle milk.
Ha-Hmmm.
Miss T. (^Aside.-) If he's going to do that, I'm
lost. 1 shall laugh. I know I shall I
Capt. G. (^Pulling at his moustache and watching it
Bideways down his nose.^ Ha-Hmmm. (Aside.^) 'Won-
der what the little beast can talk about. 'Must make a
shot at it.
Miss T. (^Aside.:^ Oh, this is agonising. I must
say something.
Both Together. Have you been
Capt. G. I beg your pardon. You were going to
say
Miss T. (^Who has been watching the moustache with
awed fascination. ) Won't you have some eggs ?
Capt. G. (J^ooUng hewilderedly at the tea-table.-)
Eggs I (iAside.) O Hades! She must have a nursery-
tea at this hour. S'pose they've wiped her mouth and
sent her to me while the Mother is getting on her
duds. (iAloud.) No, thanks.
MissT. (Crimson with confusion.') Oh! I didn't
POOR DEAR MAMMA jj,
mean that I wasn't thinking of mou-eggs for an
instant. I mean .alt. Won't you have f^e sa
sweets? CA,iae.y He'll think ^e a rlvingTunat"
T wish Mamma would come. ^
ashamed of it. By Jove ! She doesn't look half bad
;t *^<^mT'T '*^ "'^'- (^'""^ **-^ '15
■peWi's ? -^ ^"" '"'° '^"^^ "-^-^ chocolates at
likf?™^' ^°' ^ ^-^^ «>««« myself . What are they
afaer''^' '^^'^^ -^""'"•'"^- (^»'''-) And that's
Miss T. ^Ande.) Oh, bother! he'll think I'm fish-
mg fo^comphments (^AloM.y No, Peliti's of con^e.
these How ,^^"'*«r*r"^0 Not to compare with
these. How dyou make them? I can't get my aa«a.
.«A^to^u„dei.tand the simplest thing ^yonl'^Z
MiS8 T. Yes ? I'm not a hhamamah you know
Perhaps you frighten him. You should niver frighten'
Oapt.G. He's so awf'ly stupid.
Miss T. iFoUing her hands in her lap) Yo„
shouHcal^bim quietly and say: ^O Hansa^l Z?'
».APT. Or. (G^eWzwy interested.-) Yes? r^siW. ^
S'lmv^MoodtVrr^'^''* '='^°^' "^ **—
.;«e to my bloodthirsty Mir Khan!
Mt'-''' T ?Ji' ^ "^'' "P^"^ *« vernacular.
HigiS; slnaifatT::^!'-' ^°" ^'-"'^ ^^^ *"«
116
l!ii
POOR DEAR MAMMA
Capt. G. I have, but I don't seem to be any the
wiser. Are you ?
Miss T. I never passed the Higher Standard. But
the khansamah is very patient with me. He doesn't
get angry when I talk about sheep's topees, or order
maunda of grain when I mean seers.
Capt. G. (Aside, with intense indignation.") I'd like
to see Mir Khan being rude to that girl! Hullo!
Steady the Bufifs I (Aloud.) And do you underatand
about horses, too ?
Miss T. A little— not very much. I can't doctor
them, but I know what they ought to eat, and I am in
charge of our stable. *
Capt. G. Indeed! You might help me then.
What ought a man to give his sais in the Hills? My
ruffian says eight rupees, because everything is so dear.
Miss T. Six rupees a month, and one rupee Simla
allowance —neither more nor less. And a grass-cut
gets six rupees. That's better than buying grass in the
bazar.
Capt. G. (^Admiringly.) How do you know?
Miss T. I have tried both ways.
Capt. G. Do you ride much, then? I've never seen
you on the Mall.
Miss T. (Aside.) I haven't passed him more than
fifty times. (Aloud.) Nearly every day.
Capt. G. By Jove! I didn't know that. Ha-
Hmmm! (Pulls at his moustache and is silent for forty
seconds.)
Miss T. (Desperately, and wondering what will hap-
pen next.) It looks beautiful. I shouldn't touch it if
I were you. (Aside.) It's all Mamma's fault for not
coming before. I m7^ be rude I
POOR DEAR MAMMA jjy
Capt G. ^Bronzing under the tan and hnnging down
hs hand very quicMy.^ Eh I Wha-atI Oh, yes I Hal
A I i^r^^f ^^«««%.) ^Aside,-) Well, of all the
dashed cheek I I never had a woman say that to me
yet. bhe must be a cool hand or else — Ah I that
nursery-tea I
Voice FROM THE Unknown. Tchkl Tchk! Tchkl
Capt. G. Good gracious I What's that?
MissT. The dog, I think. ^Aside,-) Emm^ has
been listening, and I'll never forgive her I
rli''^l\ ^Ir.i^'"'^''^ '^^'y ^°^'* ^^^P ^°gs here.
(AloudO Didn't sound like a dog, did it ?
Miss T. Then it must have been the cat. Let's so
into the veranda. What a lovely evening it is I
Steps into veranda and looks out across the hills
into sunset. The Captain follows.
Capt. G. (Aside.) Superb eyes I I wonder that I
never noticed them before I (Aloud.) There's goinff
to be a dance at Viceregal Lodge on Wednesday. Can
you spare me one ? j ««
MissT. (Shortly.) No I I don't want any of your
char,ty.dances You only ask me because Mamma
told you to. I hop and I bump. You know I dot
«>, tr;^*/^''^'-^ ^^"^'^ *^^^' b^* little girls
shouldn t understand these things. (Aloud.) No! on
my word, I don't. You dance beautifully.
Miss T. Then why do you always stand out after
Capt. G. It wasn't a fib, believe me. I really do
want the pleasure of a dance with you.
MissT. (WicJcedly.) why? Won't Mamma dance
with you any more ?
f i
m
Wftm
rr
118
POOR DEAR MAMMA
Capt. G. (mre earnestly than the necessity de-
mands.) I wasn't thinking of your Mother, reside.)
You httle vixen I
Miss T. (Still looking out of the window.) Eh?
Oh, I beg your pardon. I was thinking of something
else. ®
Capt G. (Aside.) Well I I wonder what she'll say
next. I ve never known a woman treat me like this be-
fore. I might be -Dash it, I might be an Infantry
subaltern I (Aloud.) Oh, please don't trouble. I'm
not worth thinking about. Isn't your Moiher ready
yet? -^
Miss T. I should think ko ; but promise me, Captain
Gadsby, you won't take poor dear Mamma twice round
Jakko any more. It tires her so.
Capt. G. She says that no exercise tires her.
MissT. Yes, but she suffers afterwards. Fow don't
know what rheumatism is, and you oughtn't to keep
her out so late, when it gets chill in the evenings.
Capt. G. (Aside.) Rheumatism! I thought she
came off her horse rather in a bunch. Whew I One
lives and learns. (Aloud.) I'm sorry to hear that,
ohe hasn t mentioned it to me.
Miss T. (Flurried.) Of course not! Poor dear
Mamma never would. And you mustn't say that I told
you either. Promise me that you won't. Oh, Captain
Gadsby, promise me you won't I
Capt. G. I am dumb, or — I shall be as soon as
youve given me that dance, and another— if you can
trouble yourself to think about me for a minute.
Miss T. But you won't like it one little bit. You'U
be awfully sorry afterwards.
Capt. G. I shall like it above all things, and I shall
POOR DEAR MAMMA
119
only be sorry that I didn't get more. CAside.) Now
what m the world am I saying ?
Miss T. Very well. You will have only yourself
to thank if your toes are trodden on. Shall we sav
Seven ? "^
.u ^^'^''- ^- ^"^ Eleven. (Aside.) She can't be more
than eight stone, but, even then, it's an absurdly small
foot. (Looks at his own riding boots.)
Miss T. They're beautifully shiny. I can almost
see my face in them.
Capt. G. I was thinking whether I should have to
go on crutches for the rest of my life if you trod on
my toes.
Miss T. Very likely. Why not change Eleven for
a square ?
Capt. G. No, please! I want them both waltzes.
Won t you write them down ?
Miss T. / don't get so many dances that I shall
confuse them. Tou will be the offender.
Capt. G. Wait and see ! (Aside.) She doesn't
dance perfectly, perhaps, but
Miss T. Your tea must have got cold by this time.
Won t you have another cup ?
Capt. G. No, thanks. Don't you think it's pleas-
anter out in the veranda? (Aside.) I never saw hair
take that colour in the sunshine before. (Aloud.) It's
like one of Dicksee's pictures.
MissT. Yes I It's a wonderful sunset, isn't it?
(Bluntly.) But what do you know about Dicksee's
pictures?
^ Capt. G^ I go Home occasionally. And I used to
^aow the Galleries. (Mrvously.) You mustn't think
me only a Philistine with — a moustache.
1
120
POOR DEAR MAMMA
Miss T. Don't I Please don't I Fm so soriy for
what I said then. I was horriblt, rude. It slipped out
before I thought. Don't you know the temptation to
say fnghtful and shocking things just for the mero
sake of saying them? I'm afraid I gave way to it.
Capt G. iWatching the girl as she flushes.-) J
think I know the feeling. It would be terrible if we
all yielded to it, wouldn't it? For instance, I might
Poor Dear Mamma. (^Entering, habited, hatted, and
hooted.) Ah, Captain Gadsbyl 'Sorry to keep you
waiting. Hope you haven't been bored. 'My little
girl been talking to you T'
Miss T. (^Aside.) I'm not sorry I spoke about the
rheumatism. I'm not I I'm not I I only wish I'd
mentioned the corns too.
Cavt.G. dAside.) What a shame I I wonder how
Old she IS. It never occurred to me before. (Aloud.)
We ve been discussing ' Shakespeare and the musical
glasses in the veranda.
Miss T. ^Aside.) Nice man! He knows that quo-
tation He isn t a Philistine with a moustache. (Aloud.)
Good-bye, Captain Gadsby. (^Aside.) What a huge
hand and what a squeeze I I don't suppose he meant it,
but he has driven the rings into my fingers.
Poor Dear Mamma. Has Vermillion come round
yet? Oh, yes I Captain Gadsby, don't you think that
the saddle 18 too far forward? ^They pass into the
jront veranda.)
Capt. G. (^Aside.) How the dickens should I
know what she prefers? She told me that she doted on
horses. (iAloud.) I think it is.
into front veranda.) Oh I
/■ n -•..
\\^ufning
out
POOR DEAR MAMMA
121
Bad Buldoo I I must speak to him for this. He has
taken up the curb two links, and Vermillion hates that.
(Pa««e« out and to horse's head.)
Capt. G. Let me do it I
MissT. No, Vermillion understands me. Don't
you, old man? (Loosea curb-chain skilfully, and pats
horse on nose and throttle.) Poor Vermillion I Did
they want to cut his chin off? There I
Captain Gadsby watches the interlude with tm-
disguised admiration.
Poor Dear Mamma. ^Tartly to Miss T.) YouVe
forgotten your guest, I think, dear.
MissT. Good gracious I So I have I Good-bye.
(^Retreats indoors hastily.)
Poor Dear Mamma. {Bunching reins in finger%
hampered hy too tight gauntlets.) Captain Gadsby I
Captain Gadsby stoops and makes the foot-rest
Poor Dear Mamma blunders, halts too long,
and breaks through it.
Capt. G. {Aside.) Can't hold up eleven stone for
ever. It's all your rheumatism. {Aloud.) Can't im-
agine why I was so clumsy. {Aside.) Now Little
i^eatherweight would have gone up like a bird.
They ride out of the garden. The Captain falls
back.
Capt. G. {Aside.) How that habit catches her
under the arms ! Ugh I
Poor Dear Mamma. ( With the worn smile of sixteen
seasons, the worse for exchange.) You're dull this after-
noon, Captain Gadsby.
Capt. G. {Spurring up wedrily.) Why did you
^. ,,.^. TTciiviii^ a\J lung t
M ccetera, et ccetera, et ccetera.
■^ tal
122
POOB DEAE MAMMA
(AK lOTBEVAL OF THREE WEEKS.)
Hall) Hul o, Gaddy 1 'Been trotting out the Gorgon-
»^olaI We all thought it was the Goi^ you're ml-
o*
u f ^^ir?* ^ ^'^^ 'dithering emphasis.') You youna
cub I What the does it matter to you? ^
Proceeds to read Gilded Youth a lecture on dis-
cretion and deportment, which crumbles latter
like a Chinese Lantern. Departs fuming,
(FURTHER INTERVAL OF FIVE WEEKS.)
Scene. _JKr^,nor of New Simla Library on a foggy
evening. Miss Threegan and Miss Deercourt
meet among the 'rickshaws. Miss T. is carrying a
bundle of looks under her left arm,
MissD. (Level intonation.) Well?
Miss T. (Ascending intonation.) Well ?
Miss D. (Capturing her friend's left arm, taking
away all the books, placing books in 'rickshaw, returning
to arm se^nng hand by the third finger and invesl
gatmg.) Weill You Ja^ girl! And you n.t,.r told
Z^^lJl-!''''-' He^he-heonlyspokeyes.
«rf ?! f • v^^T ^''"' ^'^' ^""^ ^'"^ *« b« bridesmaid
Z L " ^''^"^ ^'''' promised ever so long ago.
Miss T Of course. I'll tell you all about it to-
morrow. ( Qets into 'rickshaw.) O Emma !
MissD. (With intense interest.) Yes, dear?
POOR DEAR MAMMA
123
Miss T. (Piano.) It's quite true — about — the —
egg-
Miss D. What egg?
Miss T. (Pianissimo prestissimo.) The egg with-
out the salt. ( Forte.) Chalo ghar ho jaldi, jhampani !
(Go home, jhampani.)
m
THE WORLD WITHOUT
Certain people of importance.
10.30 P.M. of a auffy night in the Saim. I'our
men du>per»ed in picturesque attitude, and ea>y.
ch„r> To these enter Blaykk of the Irregular
Moguh, in evening drett.
BtAr™. Phew! The Judge ought to be hanged
m his own store-godown. Hi, ihitmatgar/ Poora
whi8key-peg, to take the taste out of my mouth
Ctotiss. (^Royal ArtUlerg.) That's it, is it ? What
t.t:7oZT """ """^ "' '""^ •'"^^^'^ ' ^- ■^■'0-
Ch?h Tf ■ ,.,7''°"S'" " """Wn't be worse than the
Club, but I'll swear he buys ullaged liquor and
doctors .t with gin and ink Rooking round TLl"
Is this all of you to-night? ^
di^er""lVf^^-T^-^ ^"""""y "'^ o^U^d »«t at
dinner. Mingle had a pain in his tummy.
fh« r"™'- f'^^^ ^^ °* »'''"»'' ""ee a week in
•GooflMe'h ^' V™f "" "'"'""'^^^ - between
Good^httle chap, though. Any one at the Judge's,
Blaym! Cockley and hU memsahii looking awfully
white and fagged. 'Female girl -couldn't Lch the
..„„„_„n her way to the Hills, under the Cockleys'
THE WORLD WITHOUT
125
Time,
Four
d easy-
"regular
hanged
Poora
th.
What
L know-
in the
r and
roorri).
)ut at
ek in
ween,
edge's,
v^fully
h the
kleys'
charge — the Judge, and Markyn fresh from Simla —
disgustingly fit.
CuRTiss. Good Lord, how truly magnificent I Was
there enough ice ? When I mangled garbage there I
got one whole lump— nearly as big as a walnut. What
had Markyn to say for himself ?
Blayne. 'Seems that every one is having a fairly
good time up there in spite of the rain. By Jove, that
remmds me I I know I hadn't come across just for
the pleasure of your society. News I Great news I
Markyn told me.
DooNE. Who's dead now ?
Blayne. No one that I know of ; but Gaddy's
hooked at last I
DKOPPma Chorus. How much? The Devil I
Markyn was pulling your lag. Not Gaddy !
Blayne. (Eumming.^ 'Yea, verily, verUy, verily!
Verily, verUy, I say unto thee.' Theodore, the gift
o'God! Our Phillupl It's been given out up
above.
Mackesy. (Barrister-at^Law.') Huh I Women will
give out anything. What does accused say ?
Blayne. Markyn told me that he congratulated
him warily— one hand held out, t'other ready to guard.
Gaddy turned pink and said it was so.
CURTISP. Poor old Gaddy ! They all do it. Who's
she f Let's hear the details.
Blayne. She's a girl — daughter of a Colonel
Somebody.
DooNE. Simla's stiff with Colonels' daughters. Be
more explicit.
Blayne. V/ait a shake. What wa% her name?
Three — something. Three
126
THE WORLD WITHOUT
m
B™' t^' P'**P'- "^-^y '^"-^-^ ««« brand.
Blavne. Threegan- Minnie Threegan.
rrfrhraj^T^^^^"' ^»'' «^- Wo bit of a
m^«^/r™A.W....) Eh? Whales that? Z^'^ht^
says "'^'^ S*"^'^ "°S''S«'l, so Blayne
^TlJ-^r/^-^ Engaged-engaged! Bless
n^T scuu Im gettmg an old man! Little Minnie
Ihieegan engaged. It was only the other dav I Cnt
home with then, in the Surat-L, thelL^f/jTa
she was crawling about on her haads and knees amZ
because I showed her my watch. And that waa in
it » oZ~"°'f '™°*^L ^^^ «<"''J>'>-tin.e flies"
1 m an old man. I remember when Threegan married
Miss Derwent-daughter of old Hooky DefwenT-bnt
that was before your time. And soLSbabyt
MACKiav. Gadsby of the Pink Hussars.
Jebvoise 'Never met him. Threegan lived in debt
at tmTtoo.''''"'' '" -oney-lucky devil. Plac«
I
THE WORLD WITHOUT j27
DooNB. He comes of first-claas Stock. 'Can't quite
understand his being caught by a Colonel's dauX
^^ilooUry eauUou>ly round room) Black Infantry a
that 1 No offence to you, Blayne.
Blayot. ^Stiffly.-) Not much, tha-anks.
OUBTISS. (.Quoting motto of Irregular MogulB.-) 'We
are what we are,' eh, old man ? But Gaddy was sucL
superior ammal as a rule. Why didn't he go Home
and pick his wife there?
Mackesy They are all alike when they come to the
irsieTof ^itintr;-!""* '"^^ ^ -» ^-- -
morntor" ^' "' '''' '*'™'' muttony-ohap in the
MACKESY. If a man's once taken that way nothing
wiU hold him. Do you remember Benoit of your ser!
vice Doone ? They transferred him to Tharanda Zn
his time came, »nd he married a platelayer's daughter or
rSac? ''"' '"'■ ''^ "■" ^"^ -'^ f-^« a^::
Doone Yes, poor brute. That smashed Benoit's
chances of promotion altogether. Mrs. Benoit used to
ask: ' Was you goin' to th -mce this evenin'?'
CuBims. HangitaJlI Gaddyhasn't married beneath
hun. There's no tar-brush in the family, J suppose
tovoi^E. Tar-brush! Not an annll Y^Zm
fellows talk as though the man wa, doing the L Z
honour m marrying her. You're all too%once!ted-
nothing's good enough for you.
ner at the Judsre's. and a St.«f,-or> «« „;^ui_. _.. , .^ .
You're quite right. We're a set of Sybarites.
128
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iiii
■"■Iffi.i
DooNE. Luxurious dogs, wallowing in
CuRTiss. Prickly heat between the shoulders. I'm
covered v th it. Let's hope Beora will be cooler.
Blayne. Whew I Are you ordered into camp,
too ? I thought the Gunners had a clean sheet.
CuRTiss. No, worse luck. Two cases yesterday —
one died— and if we have a third, out we go. Is
there any shooting at Beora, Doone ?
Doone. The country's under water, except the patch
by the Grand Trunk Road. I was there yesterday,
looking at a hund, and came across four poor devils in
their last stage. It's rather bad from here to Kuchara.
CuRTiss. Then we're pretty certain to have a heavy
^luV,*'. ,-^^'^^'' ^ ^ shouldn't mind changing places
with Gaddy for a whUe. 'Sport with Amaryllis in the
shade of the Town Hall, and all that. Oh, why doesn't
somebody come and marry me, instead of letting me
go into cholera-camp ?
Mackesy. Ask the Committee.
CURTISS. You ruffian I You'll stand me another
peg for that. Blayne, what wiU you take ? Mackesy
18 fine on moral grounds. Doone, have you any
preference ? •> j
Doone. Small glass Kiimmel, please. ExceUent
carminative, these days. Anthony told me so.
Mackesy. (%w% voucher for four drinhs. ) Most
unfair punishment. I only thought of Curtiss as
Actseon being chivied round the billiard tables by the
nymphs of Diana.
Blayke. Curtiss would have to import his nymphs
by train. Mrs. Cockley's the only woman in the
station. She won't leave Cockley, and he's doing his
oest to get her to go.
THE WORLD WITHOUT ^29
CTOTIS8. Good, indeed I Here's Mrs. Cockley's
health. To the only wife in the Station and a damned
brave woman !
Omnbs. iLrinhing.^ A damned brave woman I
BLAYNE. I suppose Gaddy will bring his wife here
at the end of the cold weather. They are going to be
married almost immediately, I believe. ^ « "«
CuETiss. Gaddy may thank his luck that the Pink
Hussars are all detachment and no headquarters this
hot weather, or he'd be torn from the arms of his love
as sure as death. Have you ever noticed the thorough-
minded way British Cavalry take to cholera? It's
because they are so expensive. If the Pinks had stood
fast here, they would have been out in camp a month
ago. Yes, I should decidedly like to be Gaddv
Mackesy. He'll go Home after he's marri;d, and
send m his papers — see if he doesn't.
Blayne. Why shouldn't he? Hasn't he money?
Would any one of us be here if we weren't paupers ?
DooKE. Poor old pauper I What has become of
the SIX hundred you rooked from our table last month ?
Blayne. It took unto itself wings. I think an
Zf7'^^ tradesman got some of it, and a shroff
gobbled the rest — or else I spent it.
his^H ™' ^''^^^ ''^^^' ^^^ '^^^^'''^' ^'^^ ^ '^'''ff i^
DooNE. Virtuous Gaddy I If / had three thou-
sand a month, paid from England, I don't think I'd
deal with a shroff either.
Mackesy. iYawr^ing.^ Oh, it's a sweet life I I
wonder whether matrimony would make it sweeter
^UETiss. Ask Cockley — with his wife dying by
130
THE WORLD WITHOUT
you ? You haven't
a I ito a running
Blayne. Go home and get a fool of a girl to come
out to — what is it Thackeray says? — 'the splendid
palace of an Indian pro-consul.'
DooNB. Which reminds me. My quarters leak
like a sieve. I had fever last night from sleeping in a
swamp. And the worst of it is, one can't do anything
to a roof till the Rains are over.
CuRTiss. What's wrong with
eighty rotting Tommies to t^
stream.
DooNE. No: but I'm mixcQ boils ^nd bad lan-
guage. I'm a regular Job all over r.iy body. It's
sheer poverty of blood, dnd I don't see any chance of
getting richer — either way.
Blaynb. Can't you take leave ?
DooNB. That's the pull you Army men have over
us. Ten days are nothing in your sight. Fm so
important that Government can't find a substitute if
I go away. Ye-es, I'd like to be Gaddy, whoever his
wife may be.
CuRTiss. You've passed the turn of life that Mack-
esy was speaking of.
DooNB. Indeed I have, but I never yet had the
brutality to ask a woman to share my life out here.
Blayne. On my soul I believe you're right. I'm
thinking of Mrs. Cockley. The woman's an absolute
wreck.
DooNB. Exactly. Because she stays down here.
The only way to keep her fit would be to send her to
the Hills for eight months — and the same with any
woman. I fancy I see myself taking a wife on those
terms.
Mackesy. With the rupee at one and sixpence.
THE WORLD WITHOUT jm
The little Doones would be little Deh.a Doones, with a
fine^Muaaoone cU-oU anent to bring home foT th^
Ctotiss And a pair of be-ewtiful mmlhur-ho^n
for Doone to wear, free of expense, presented by-!!
izz^i:;:r ""'' "™"^ lu^^ if~'
CuBTiss. Surely a third's loss enough. Who gains
by the arrangement ? That's what I wLt to know
Blaynb The Silver Question! I'm going tlbed
InZv T T'"'^''^- '''«'"'' «'"«'°« here's
Anthony —lookmg like a ghost.
-ffnter Aothoky, Indian Medical Staff, very
white and tired. "
Anthony. 'Evening, Blayne. It's raining in sheets
^^ypeg lao, kUtn^atgar. The roads are^somethtg
CuETiss. How's Mingle?
Anthony. Very bad, and more frightened I
handed h.m over to Fewton. Mingle mifhtlus as
Toix^r ^ ^'-" '" ^''^ «- p'-. i-s :?
hegrtMstir:' " "^"""' ""'« ""^P- "^^^ ^
Anthonj. 'Can't quite say. A very bad tummy
and a blue funk so far. He asked me at once if Twas
cMera, and I told him not to be a fool. That sootM
CuRTiss. Poor devil! The funk doe- h-'f -h.
business in a man of that build ~
Anthony. {.UgUvng a cheroot.) I firmly believe
132
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m
the funk will kill him, if he stays down. You know
the amount of trouble he's been giving Fewton for the
last three weeks. He's doing his very best to frighten
himself into the grave.
General Chorus. Poor little devil I Why doesn't
he get away ?
Anthony. 'Can't. He has his leave all right, but
he's so dipped he can't take it, and I don't think his
name on paper would raise four annas. That's in con-
fidence, though.
Mackesy. All the Station knows it.
Anthony. ' I suppose I shall have to die here,' he
said, squirming all acrosi the bed. He's quite made
up his mmd to Kingdom Come. And I know he has
nothing more than a wet-weather tummy if he could
only keep a hand on himself.
Blayne. That's bad. That's very bad. Poor little
Miggy. Good little chap, too. I say
Anthony. What do you say ?
Blayne. Well, look here — anyhow. If it's like
that — as you say — I say fifty.
CuRTiss. I say fifty.
Mackesy. I go twenty better.
DooNE. Bloated Croesus of the Bar 1 I say fifty.
Jervoise, what do you say ? Hi I Wake up I
Jervoise. Eh ? What's that ? What's that ?
CuRTiss. We want a hundred rupees from you.
You're a bachelor drawing a gigantic income, and
there's a man in a hole.
Jervoise. Whatman? Any one dead?
Blayne. No, but he'll die if you don't give the
hundred. Here I Here's a peg-voucher. You can
see what we've signed for, and Anthony's man will
THE WORLD WITHOUT
133
come round to-morrow to collect it. So there will be
no trouble.
Jeuvoise. (Signing.) One hundred, E. M. J
There you are (feebly). It isn't one of your jokes, is
it f
Blaynb. No, it really is wanted. Anthony, you
were the biggest poker-winner last week, and you've
defrauded the tax-collector too long. Sign I
Anthony. Let's see. Three fifties and a seventy
-two twenty -three twenty -say four hundred and
twenty. That'll give him a month clear at the Hills
Many thankr. you men. I'll send round the chaprassi
to-morrow.
CuRTiss. You must engineer his taking the stuff,
and of course you mustn't
Anthony. Of course. It would never do. He'd
weep with gratitude over his evening drink.
Blaynb. That's just what he would do,' damn him.
Oh I I say, Anthony, you pretend to know everything.
Have you heard about Gaddy ?
Anthony. No. Divorce Court at last?
Blaynb. Worse. He's engaged I
Anthony. How much? Rq can't he I
Blaynb. Re is. He's going to be married m a few
weeks. Markyn told me at the Judge's this evening.
i-Xi S pUiCKCIi.
Anthony. You don»t say so? Holy Moses I
Iherell be a shine in the tents of Kedar.
CuRTiss. 'Regiment cut up rough, think you?
Anthony. 'Don't know anything about the Regi-
ment.
xTiAv^xvc^i. ii, IS bigamy, then?
Anthony. Maybe. Do you mean to say that you
i
til ■ ■;'
134
THE WORLD WITHOUT
men have forgotten, or is there more chaHty in the
world than I thought ?
DooNE. You don't look pretty wlien you are trying
to keep a secret. You bloat. Explain.
Anthony. Mrs. Herriott I
Blayne. (^After a long pause, to the room generally.)
It s my notion that we are a set of fools.
Mackesy. Nonsense. That business was knocked
on the head last season. Why, young Mallard
Anthony. Mallard was a candlestick, paraded as
such. Thmk awhile. Recollect last season and the
talk then. Mallard or no Mallard, did Gaddy ever
talk to any other woman?
CuRTiss. There's something in that. It was
slightly noticeable now you come to mention it. But
she's at Naini Tal and he's at Simla.
Anthony. He had to go to Simla to look after a
globe-trotter relative of his — a person with a title.
Uncle or aunt.
Blayne. And there he got engaged. No law pre-
vents a man growing tired of a woman.
Anthony. Except that he mustn't do it till the
woman is tired of him. And the Herriott woman was
not that.
CuRTiss. She may be now. Two months of Naini
Tal work wonders.
DooNE. Curious thing how some women carry a
Fate with them. There was a Mrs. Deegie in the
Central Provinces whose men invariably fell away and
got married. It became a regular proverb with us
when I was down there. I remember three men des-
perately devoted to her, and they all, one after another,
vwjk Wives.
THE WORLD WITHOUT
185
was
But
CuRTiss. That's odd. Now I should have thouglit
that Mrs. Deegie's influence would have led them to
take other men's wives. It ought to have made them
afraid of the judgment of Providence.
Anthony. Mrs. Herriott will make Gaddy afraid
of something more than the judgment of Providence,
I fancy.
Blayne. Supposing things are as you say, he'll be
a fool to face her. He'll sit tight at Simla.
Anthony. 'Shouldn't be a bit surprised if he went
off to Naini to explain. He's an unaccountable sort of
man, and she's likely to be a more than unaccountable
woman.
DoONE. What makes you take her character away
80 confidently ?
Anthony. Primum Umpm. Gaddy was her first,
and a woman doesn't luiuw her first man to drop away
without expostulation. She justifies the first transfer
of affection to herself by swearing that it is for ever
and ever. Consequently
Blayne Consequently, we are sitting here till
past one o'clock, talking scandal like a set of Station
cats. Anthony, it's all your fault. We were perfectly
respectable till you came in. Go to bed. I'm off.
Good-night all.
CuRTiss. Past one I It's past two, by Jove, and
here's the kUt coming for the late charge. Just
Heavens ! One, two, three, four, five rupees to pay
for the pleasure of saying that a poor little beast of a
woman is no better than she should be. I'm ashamed
of myself. Go to bed, you slanderous villains, and if
" • ^^ ^^-^^a «,u-xiiuiiu\v, uo preparea lo iiear I'm
dead before paying my card account I
it ")
THE TENTS OF KEDAR
Only why should it be with pain at all,
Why must I 'twixt the leaves of coronal
Put any kiss of pardon on thy brow?
Why should the other women know so much
And talk together : ~ Such the look and such
The smile he used to love with, then as now.
Any Wife to any Husband.
Scene. -^iVam Tal dinner for thirty-four. Plate
wines, crockery, and kkitmatgara carefully calculated
to scale of Rs, 6000 per mensem, less Exchange. Table
split lengthways by bank of flowers,
Mrs. Heeeiott. (^After conversation has risen to
proper pitch.:, Ah I 'Didn't see you in the crush in
the drawing-room. (i8otto voce.-) Where have you
been all this while, Pip?
Captain Gadsby. {Turning from regularly ordained
dinner partner and settling hock glasses.) Good even-
mg.^ iSotto voce.) Not quite so loud another time.
J^ouve no notion how your voice carries. {Aside.) So
much for shirking the written explanation. It'll have
to be a verbal one now. Sweet prospect I How on earth
am I to tell her that I am a respectable, engaged
member of society and it's all over between us ?
Mrs. H. I've a heavy score against you. Where
were you at the Monday Pop? Where were you on
luesday? Where were you at the Lamonts' tennis?
1 was loftlrmnr «^ro|'-«rTi.f>./^«^
THE TENTS OP KEDAB
137
and.
■*latei
lated
Table
n to
h in
you
ined
me.
So
lave
irth
ged
lere
on
lis?
Capt. G. For me I Oh, I was alive somewhere, I
suppose. (iABide.-) It's for Minnie's sake, but it's
going to be dashed unpleasant.
Mrs. H. Have I done anything to offend you? I
never meant it if I have. I couldn't help going for a
ride with the Vaynor man. It was promised a week
before you came up.
Capt. G. I didn't know
Mes. H. It really was.
Capt. G. Anything about it, I mean.
Mrs. H. What has upset you to-day ? All these
days ? You haven't been near me for four whole days
-•nearly one hundred hours. Was it Jcind of you,
Pip ? And I've been looking forward so much to your
coming. "^
Capt. G. Have you?
Mrs. H. You ^wom» I have I I've been as foolish as
a schoolgirl about it. I made a little calendar and put
It in my card-case, and every time the twelve o'clock
gun went off I scrritched out a square and said : ' That
brings me nearer to Pip. My Pip ! '
Capt. G. {With an uneasy laugh.^ What will
Mackler think if you neglect him so ?
Mrs. H. And it hasn't brought you nearer. You
seem farther away than ever. Are you sulking about
something ? I know your temper.
Capt. G. No.
Mrs. H. Have I grown old in the last few months,
then? ^Reaches forward to bank of flowers for menu-
card.')
Partner ON Left. Allow me. (Hands menu-card.
.t_.,^,{E ,,. , „,, ,„ „t^n,t{, sirevcnjor i/iree seconds.)
Mrs. H. {To partner.) Oh, thanks. I didn't see.
h-j
m
138
THE TENTS OP KEDAR
(Turns right affain^ Is anything in me changed at
Capt. G. For Goodness' sake go on with your
dinner I You must eat something. Try one of those
cutlet arrangements. (Aside.) And I fancied she had
good shoulders, once upon a time I What an ass a
man can make of himself I "
.2^^^: ^' /^"^^^'^^ ^^^*^^/ *^ « paper frill, seven peas,
some stamped carrots and a spoonful of gravy,) That
isnt^an answer. TeU me whether I have done any-
Capt. G. (Aside.) If it isn't ended here there will
be a ghastly scene somewhere else. If only I'd written
to her and stood the racket-at long range I (To
Khitmatgar.) Han! Simpkin do. (Aloud.) mt^U
you later on. v y ax ten
Mbs. H. Tell me now. It must be some foolish
misunderstanding, and you know that there was to be
nothing of that sort between us. We, of all people in
the world, can't afford it. Is it the Vaynor man, and
don t you like to say so ? On my honour
Capt. G. I haven't given the Vaynor man a thought.
MRS. H. But how d'you know that /haven't ?
CAPT.G. (Aside.) Here's my chance and may the
Devil help me through with it. (Aloud and Las-
uredly.) Believe me, I do not care how often or how
tenderly you think of the Vaynor man.
Mrs. H. I wonder if you mean that. — Oh, what is
the good of squabbling and pretending to misunder-
stand when you are only up for so short a time ? Pip
don't be a stupid I ^'
Follows a pause, during which he crosses his left
^ — — , ,^,n. „„t^ vaniifiaeis nis aimier.
THE TENTS OP KEDAR jgg
Capt. G. (/„ answer to the thunderstorm in her
eyes. ) Corns — my worst.
Mrs. H. Upon my word, you are the very rudest
man m the world I I'll nmr do it again.
Capt. G ^Aside.) No, I don't think you will-
but I wonder what you will do before it's all over!
iToKhtmatgar.) Thorah ur Simpkin do.
gis^badmanr^ Haven't you the grace to apolo-
T?..tr'^' ^^f^"'^ I "mustn't let it drift brckno«..
won^s~''' ^''"^ ^' ^^'""^ ^' ^ ^^' ^^^^ «he
Mrs. I'm waiting: or would you like me to
dictate a form of apology?
Mtf'w* ^^.'f'-^^'^y'^ By all means dictate.
«p. I'nu • 5^^^^^'^ ^^^^ '^«"- Rehearse your
several Christian names after me and go on : 'Profess
my smcere repentance.
Capt. G. 'Sincere repentance.'
Mrs. H. ' For having behaved *
«bp^t7\^' ^^''^''^ ^^^^^^^ I wish to Goodness
shed look away. 'For having behaved'-a^ I have
stkTf ;r f i^T *^'* ^ "^ thoroughly and heartily
sick of the whole business, and take this opportunity
forwl r^ tr "^^ ^^*'^'^'^ "^ ^^^^^ i*' ^«^' ^hence-
forward, and for ever. (^Aside.^ If any one had told
me I should be such a blackguard !
l.fT. ^' S^^f^^ « 'P^'^^'M of potato chips into
herplate.^ That's not a pretty joke
Capt. G No. It's a reality. (^«erf,.) I wonder
If smashes of this kind are always so raw.
Mrs. H. Really, Pip. you're a.«ff;„a. v - .
everyday. -« o-^—g -«rc «usuru
pi
pi
140
THE TINTS OP KEDAR
t I
•3
fnn^ff'-i?' ^°^. ^'^^ P^Vs sake don't do that. It's
too terrible, even in fun.
Capt. G. I'll let her think it over for a whilp
But I ought to be horse-whipped. "'
yof s'aid fust Lr* '^ ''^" "'^* ^^^ --^* ^^ -^^^
Capt. G. Exactly what I said. No less. "
wfrA^Idone'r'^* '^^^ ' '^^^ *^ ^-- ^^^
me^T^/o^;. ^^/^"^ J' '^' '^'y ^«^d^'t look at
me. (Aloud and very slowly. Ma eyes on his plaU ^
D you remember that evening in July, before the Ra^s
broke, when you said that the end would have to come
sooner or later-and you wondered for which of us il
would come first ? "
Mrs. H. Yes I I was only iokin^ Anri ^«„
swore t,,, as long as there was bLrrn^ufbody"^^^
should never come. And I believed you. ^
That^'^all.^* (^»^i^^r% ^.nz^.a.c?.) Well, it has.
A long pause, during which Mrs. .H. hows her
head and rolls the hread-twist into little pellets :
Or. Stares at the oleanders.
naturally.^ They tram ns women well, don't theyTpio'
as ttf ■ ^*"""'"^' ""'*»^ •*-*-«'«''•) So for
as the expression goes. (^,«,.) n J.j ;„ '"
nature to take things quietly. Theie'U be an Lplst
eve?B;d\ii!^lr„ *f*:-l ^^-^ ^- «-•>"'
i -.^^.ic tu vvxiggie wiieu they're
THE TENTS OF KEDAR
141
being tortured, I believe. (iSlips fan from girdle and
fans slowly: rim of fan level with chin.)
Partner on Left. Very close to-night, isn't it ?
lov find it too much for you?
Mrs. H. Oh, no, not in the least. But they really
ought to have punkahs, even in your cool Naini Tal
oughtn't they ? (Turns, dropping fan and raising eye-
orows.) ^
Capt. G. It's all right. (Aside.) Here comes the
storm I
Mrs. H. (ffer eyes on the tablecloth : fan ready in
right hand.) It was very cleverly managed, Pip, and
I congratulate you. You swore -you never contented
yourself with merely saying a thing-you more that,
as far as lay in your power, you'd make my wretched
life pleasant for me. And you've denied me the con-
solation of breaking down. I should have done it —
indeed I should. A woman would hardly have thought
of this refinement, my kind, considerate friend. (Fanr
guard as before.) You have explained things so ten-
derly and truthfully, too I You haven't spoken or
written a word of warning, and you have let me believe
m you till the last minute. You haven't condescended
to give me your reason yet. No I A woman could
not have managed it half so well. Are there many
men like you in the world?
rJ^'^r'^' 1'°^ sure I don't know. (To Khitmatgar.)
Ohel SimpUndo. ^ ^
Mrs. H. You call yourself a man of the world,
don t you ? Do men of the world behave like Devils
when they do a woman the honour to get tired of her?
— — "- *-" °^^ ^ auui. iuiow. Dout speak so
loud I '^
L,l
142 THE TENTS OF KEDAK
happens !'*'Do''„7h"'/Tt'"'' "^ ^'°'^' ^^hatey^r
rlwL ' **™"* "' "y compromising you.
Itou ve chosen your ground far too well and vZ
been properly brought up. (Lowering ^0 Ljt
you ang p.ty, Pip, except for yourself
to sw tha?r ^""'"f '* "^ ^"'^^ impertinent of me
to say that I'm sorry for you ?
iod pTn T ^"^S/^'y ""CM of my feelings. My
^od Pip, I ^as a good woman once I Yon Baidl wl
You've made me what I am. What are you goLgt
do w,th „e? What are you going to do wHh me?
of ^t7'»*^' / *"'t"'"'^ ^'"' y""' '* yo" ^ant th« pity
4^f;haf:rai^i:rcC:rour-''^- °°
What uhS. j^;r vrcalrth-r'^ '^" ^-
that? ^ysQii. J^ou cant think worse than
Mrs. H. Oh, yes, I can I And now, will vou t^ll
me the reason of all this? Remorse? Has ^Baya d
been suddenly conscience-stricken? ^
Capt. G. (.Angrily, Mb eyes BtUl lowered.) No I Th«
^^has come to an end „„ my side. ^faU IS!
MBS. H. 'That's all. Majkchr As though I were'
speeler ^"'"""''"- J"" ""^^ *» -ake'preS
speeches. D you remember when you said ?
OAPT. tr. For Heaven's sake don't bring that back I
It t i""^ ^"" ^^' "'"^ I'll ''d«'it i' -—
-BS. ... But you don't ciue to be reminded of old
1
THE TENTS OF KEDAR ^43
lies? If I could hope to hurt you one-tenth as much
as you have hurt me to-night -No, I wouldn't -I
coulan t do it — liar though you are.
Capt, G. I've spoken the truth.
Mes. H. My dear Sir, you flatter yourself. You
have hed over the reason. Pip, remember that I know
you as you don't know yourself. You have been every-
thmg to me, though you are- (Fan-guard.) Oh, what
a contemptible Thin, it is ! And so you are^^erely
tired of me ? -^
- YeT* ^* ^'""^^ ^^"""^ "^^'^^ "^^"^ ""^ repeating it
Mrs. H. Lie the first. I wish I knew a coarser
word. Lie seems so ineffectual in your case. The fire
has just died out and there is no fresh one ? Think
tor a minute, Pip, if you care whether I despise you
more than I do. Simply Mafiach, kit?
Capt.G. Yes. (Aside.) I think I deserve this.
MRS. H. Lie number two. Before the next glass
chokes you, tell me her name.
Capt. G. (Aside.) I'll make her pay for dragging
Minnie into the business I (Aloud.) Is it likely?
Mrs. H. Veri/ likely if you thought that it would
flatter your vanity. You'd cry my name on the house-
tops to make people turn round.
A^Tl^\ ^ "^'"^ ^ ^^^' ^^^^« ^o^d liave been an
end of this business.
Mrs. H. Oh, no, there would not — And so you
were going to be virtuous and blas^, were you ? To
come to me and say : 'I've done with you. The inci-
dent IS clo-osed.' I ought to be proud of having kept
such a man so long. ^ ^
CAPT.G. (Aside.) It only remains to pray for th^
144
THE TENTS OP KEDAR
:/[
rfiS!*^'" ^^'■""'•^ You know what I thini
»„f ^\u: ,^^ "'' ** 0% person in the world you
ever * thmk of, and as I know your mind thorouX
I do. You want to get it aU over and dh j
Pin t?t/°" '"'' ' ^."' ^""'" Soing - think of i^
Pip - to throw me over for another wonan And vJ
swore that all other women were— Kp mv Pini
She ™» t care for you as I do. Believe mef she ca.^?
Is It any one that I know ?
Cam G. Thank Goodness it isn't. (Aside ) I
expecte, . cyclone, but not an earthquake. "^
MBS. H. She can't/ ,l8 there a-ythine that I
ytf i ! Do f ' *™""' ""^^ y°"' ''"•'-'"? -hat
you are ! Do you despise me for it ?
^amr Its entirely a work of charity on your
Mesh Ahhh! But I have no right to resent it
-Is she better-looking than I ? Who L it sa'd— ^
Cam. G. No — not that I
n„^'f' ^,' ^'",'™ """^ ™'"'=''f»l than you were
Don t you know that all women are alike'
Cam. G. (Aside.) Then this is the exoention
that proves the rule. exception
Mks^ H. ^« of them ! PU teU you anything yt.„
like. I will, upon my word 1 They only want tZ
adm:raticn-from anybody-no master ^hl-afy
moZ L * *''''' ^ "^^y^ ""^ "*'' that they care for
fioe aU the others to. Oh, rf« listen! IVe kept the
Vaynor man trnttin™ aff«r -,-<. '•■ „ ^
u..g alter me xme a poodle, and he
THE TENTS OP KEDAR ^^
believes that he is the only n,an I am interested in.
1 11 tell you what he said to me.
«^vt;i„\'^*'^ ■'""• ^^•■^^•> ' -»de, .hat
what an idiot heT„ 'ts' '" "' ""' ^"" '=''° -«
6^ G ;^ ? t ^*'■5'* ^^"^ 'countenance.^
vXa';,, (^'^*«'"»%-) He doesn't look urettv
W^^d.dn't you wait till the spoon wa« out'oTg^
ti„!f ^nf' "■ ^" tT™^ y°"- '^''«'" °>ak« an exhibi-
Plafn as 'heno^nday L""k'u"ui t TJ.'*'! "
and t„,d lies and .IdeT" JT/W': tL" I e:'""}
never made a fool of you, did I ^
^Capt.G. (^«e,^,.) What a clever little woman it
Mrs. n. Well, what have you to say ?
Capt. G. I feel better. ^
Mrs. H. Yes, I suppose so, after I have come down
to your level. I couldn't have done it if 7 hadl't
Mt! x7' }i ''^''' * ^^*^^ *^« situation.
MRS. H. iPassionately.) Then she ha. snid fhat
.hucaresioryoul Don't believe her, Pip. Yt^^ ^Z
— as bad as yours to me I ^ -ii s a lie
146
THE TENTS OP KEDAR
Capt. G. Ssssteady! I've a notion that a friend
of yours is looking at you.
Mk8. H. He I I hate him. He introduced you to
me.
Capt. G. (Aside.) And somo people would like
women to assist in making the laws. Introduction to
miply condonement. (Aloud.) Well, you see, if you
can remember so far back as that, I couldn't, in com-
mon politeness, refuse the offer.
Mrs. H. In common politeness I We have got
beyond that!
Capt. G. (Aside.) Old ground means fresh trouble.
(Aloud.) On my honour
Mrs. H. Youi- what? Ha, ha!
Capt. G. Dishonour, then. She's not what you
imagine. I meant to
Mrs. H. Don't tell me anything about her 1 She
won't care for you, and when you come back, after hav-
mg made an exhibition of yourself, you'll find me occu-
pied with
Capt. G. (Insolently.) You couldn't while I am
alive. (Aside.) If that doesn't bring her pride to
her rescue, nothing will.
Mrs. H. (Drawing herself up.) Couldn't do it?
If (Softening.) You're right. I don't believe I could
— though you are what you are — a coward and a Har
in grain.
Capt. G. It doesn't hurt so much after your little
lecture — with demonstrations.
Mrs. H. One mass of vanity I Will nothing ever
touch you in this life ? There must be a Hereafter if
It's only for the benefit of But you wiU have it
wU to JUUUOCUt
THE TENTS OF KEDAR j^^
of^hT?'"' ^^'^'^-^-^^^*--) Are you SO certain
J2.fJS. '"^ ''' "^"^ ^" ^'^^ "^^ '• -^ ^*
Capt. G. But tlie admiration that you insisted on
so strongly a moment a^.-.^ (Aaid, .^ ''l '"'f ^^ "»
brute ! '^^ (.^«2are.) Oh, I am a
enough even L mLeven or 1 ;rrd 'v "' n "^^
less. That's anothe,- punishmenT. ' '' ' "" """
yournk!"- ^""^^"^'^ 0'>— e..rn,n„tsoW.«
Mm. H. Not now, perhaps, but you will be. Oh
that you would not do H t ^ ' """^ °° ""'™"''««
without knowLVthat , """^^ ^ '"o^" ^^ - '""^
andrdo:?t see'^C iXuM ^ t" T^""' ^'^^-
countu n,yhol44t4u':.~---"
MM. H, If you denied everything you've said thi.
evenmg and declared it was all in fnn r!; f
I'd trust you. Not otherwil Tuf Jk tiT^^l
her my name. J>lea.e don't. A man ^t ^t I
nfCroflSl^ ven't fbf ^f' *'^™''^"
rv«»r...*„j .:..., ,."'^™°' I behaved beautifully?
148
THE TENTS OP KEDAB
sex, haven't I ? (Ai
gh
Vrranffing gloves
pray t' at she'll know y.m some day as I know you
now. I wouldn't be you then, for I think even your
conceit will be hurt. I hope slio'll pay you back the
humiliation you've brought on me. I hope — No. I
don't. I can't give you up ! I must have something
to look forward to or I shall go crazy. When it's all
over, come back to me, come back to me, and you'll
find that you're my Pip still I
Capt. G. (iVery clearly.-) 'False move, and you
pay for it. It's a girl I ^
Mrs. H. {Rising.) Then it was truel They said
but I wouldn't insult you by asking. A girl! /
was a girl not very long ago. Be good to her, Pip. I
daresay she believes in you,
aoes out with an uncertain smile He watches
her through the door, and settles into a chair
as the men redistribute themselves.
Capt. G. Now, if there is any Power who looks
after this world, will He kindly tell me what I have
done ? {Reaching out for the claret, and half aloud.)
What have I done ? v /
?^l!
you
WITH ANY AMAZEMENT
And are not afraid with ^y amaz< .v,nt-. Marriage Service.
Scene.- ^ hachelor^s ^.^roo^.^toilet-table arranaed
mth unnatural neatne.. Captain Gadsby aXt
and snonnff heavily. Time, 10.80 a.m. -a gloZ
0U8 autumn day at Simla. Enter delicately Captain
MArPLiM of Gadsby's regiment. Look! at^eeZ
<^nd BhaJces hiB head murmuring ^ Poor Qaddy: kr.
forms violent fantasia with hair-hrushes on chair-hack.
Capt. M. Wake up, my sleeping beauty I (i?,a...)
'Uprouse ye, then, my merry merry men I
It is our opening day I
It is our opening daray I '
Gaddy, the little dicky-birds have been biUine and
coomg for ever so long ; and Tm here I
Capt. G (^Sitting up and yawning.-) 'Mornin'
This » awHy good of yon, old feUow Most aX
good of yon. -Don't know what I should do witlont
n^^ht. "^ """■• ' '*'"''*• '^^«"'* «1«P* - wink "i
Capt m. I didn't get in till half-past eleven
Had a look at yon then, and you seemed to be sleeZ
as soundly as a condemned criminal. ^^
Capt. G. Jack, if you want to make those disgust-
Y" j^-'^^.juuuueccergoaway. (Withvor.
tentou, gravity.-) It's the happiest day in my Itfe
149
160
WITH ANY AMAZEMENT
' I
I i<
Capt.M. iChucUmg grimly.^ Not by a very long
chalk, niy son. You're going through some of thf
most refined torture you've ever known. But be calm,
/am with you. 'Shun I l)re%%l
Capt. G. Eh I Wha-at?
Capt M. Bo you suppose that you are your own
master for the next twelve hours? If you do of
course {Makes for the door, ^^
A ^T:.\ ^f ' ^°' ^""^"^^«' «^^«' °ld ^a^' don't
do that! You'll see me through, won't you? I've
been mugging up that beastly drill, and can't remember
a line ot it.
Capt.M. ^Overhauling G:^ uniform.:, Go and tub.
Don t bother me. I'll give you ten minutes to dress in.
Interval, filled by the noise as of one splashing in
the oath-room.
Capt G. (Emerging from dressing-room.^ What
time is it?
Capt. M. Nearly eleven.
Capt. G. Five hours more. O Lord I
Capt. M. {Aside.^ 'First sign of funk, that. 'Won-
tlkfl! '"'^ *^ ^^"^'- ^^^^"^•> Come along to
bre^akSt.''- ' "''* "* ^"^*'^°^- ' ^^'^ -"* -^
r.dr*T^-/^'^''^"^ ^'^^^-^- ^^^'^^'^ Captain
Gadsby, I order you to eat breakfast, and a dashed «ood
breakfast, too. None of your bridal airs and gmces
Leads G. downstairs, and stands over kirn while
he eats two hops.
Capt. G. (Who has looked at his watch thrice in the
last Jive minutes.) What t me is it?
WITH ANY AMAZEMENT
161
Capt. M. Time to come for a walk. Light up.
Capt. G. I haven't smoked for ten days, and I won't
now, {TakeB cheroot which M. has cut for him, and blows
smoke through his nose luxuriously.^ We aren't eoine
down the Mall, are we?
r ?.^T. ^- ^^*^^^-) They're all alike in 1 hese stages.
iAloud.:^ No, my Vestal. We're going alona the
quietest road we can find.
Capt. G. Any chance of seeing Her ?
Capt.M. Innocent! No I Come alo g, and, if you
want me for the final obsequies, don't cut my eye out
with your stick.
Capt. G. (^Spinning round.^ I say, isn't She the
dearest creature that ever walked? What's the time?
What comes after * wilt thou take this woman ' ?
Capt. M. You go for the ring. R'clect it'll be on
the top of my right-hand little finger, and just be care-
ful how you draw it off, because I shall have the
Verger's fees somewhere in my glove.
Capt. G. (^Walking forward hastily.) D the
Verger I Come along I It's past twelve and I haven't
seen Her smce yesterday evening. ^Spinning round
again.) She's an absolute angel. Jack, and She's a
dashed deal too good for me. Look here, does She
come up the aisle on my arm, or how ?
Capt. M. If I thought that there was the least
chance of your remembering anything for two consecu-
tive mmutes, I'd tell you. Stop passaging about like
Capt. G. (^Halting in the middle of the road.) I
say, Jack. ^
Capt. M. Keep quiet for another t^n minn+oa ,-f „^„
can, you lunatic; VLiidwalk!
W '1
162
WITH ANY AMAZEMENT
The two tramp at Jive miles an hour for Meen
minutes. , ''^
J^T'^\ ^^-t'^ th^ time? How about that cursed
weddmg^ake and the slippers ? They don't throw™ m
about m church, do they?
his^'C*'- '''•™™"^- The Padre leads off with
t^T^?' ,*^™l''"''^ y°»'' 'My soulf Don't ujake
fun of me. I can't stand it, and I won't !
Capt M. iUntrovhUdry Sokk,o, old horse I You'll
have to sleep for a couple of hou« this afternoon
(.APT. G. (^Spinning rouud.-) I'm not goine to ha
treated hke a dashed child. Understand thfj^
Whal^I-^y wefe'ti.?;? T? '° ''"'"-^^g^-
^ n ' I -^ , I , ""g ' ( Tenderly pvMing U» hand
onGs shoulder.) My David, howlong have you knTn
"vou'lt ' Z^"^' ' ""'"' "P "-« *» -^^e a 0^
ot you — after all these years ?
hv^\Z\^' ^^r^fy-') I know, I know, Jack -
but I m as upset as I can be. Don't mind what I sav
.'":Sin™" *'~"«- ^"^ -^^ -^ - « ^'ve it
' To have and to hold for better or worae, as it was in
nd^fhT^' Vr r'' ^™^ ^•^l >»' world wXit
end, so help me God. Amen '
jTlnt^att."'""' ''^ ^' °' "• ™ P--P* « ?-
Capt.G. iEameMy.-) Yes, you'll stick by me Jack
won t you ? I'm awf 'ly happy, but I don't mid teS
you that I'm in a blue funk I *^
Capt. M. (ffmi,«;y.) Are you? I should never
have noticed it. You don't ?»<,* like it. """"•* °'™'
WITH ANY AMAZEMENT ^^
at^e a^,el that eve. caZZn^^^ttr^^l
mt a woman on earth fit to speak to Her.
of U2L a^ltT>' ' '^'''' "^ y- -M --
theX^^ ~n ^°" r- -»^^ -" for
y'know ^' ^°° "'" * «"''« ■"»™«'l yet.
: .t7-^\?!:;,efJt:-tor i^'^t-
and trv 'em nn ? /-& • J^ ^®^^ Sfo home
miry em on I (ffurries forward.^
thatt-at;o':t'"'*^^"^--'>-foran,tH.,
your brutal r..Zl7l7J!''V:ZT^rT.
about vou Yon'ra +i,« u ! ^ "^"^^^ ^ ^^^y One fault
don't kL..^t\"^i'iteiortr:^^^^^^^^
JS- ('^'•'*«^- '*—«.) Ya-as. Whose
Capt. M. (ffums,)-^
'^*.wu ''""^ ""^^y ^^^^'^ ^e drank only ffinger bepr
Faxth, there must ha' been some stingo Sgin^:;'/
Come back, you manian. T'm «.,v- x. , ,
Home, and you're going to lie'do^:""^ " "^' ^'"
a
154
WITH ANT AMAZEMENT
^^ Capt. G. What on eaxth do I want to Ue down
^^ Capt. M. Give me a light from your cheroot and
/-*rSw;etSK"°''"' '"'''' '* " '-"^-
^^Capt.M. Yonare. I'U get you a peg and you'll go
CAPT^r^ 'T? ?f ^; <"'»'^«»* " Mr-finger peg.
anot" ■ ^ '"'■"'"• I"i make me as d™„k ^
Capt. M. 'Curious thing, 'twon't have the slightest
:X:i'^;-e.c " ""• -"-"■^ ~" ^---"
sha*;^? ®" ^''' '"*"'^- ^ ^"^^'^ »•««?• I *»»» I
SalUmUheavy doze at end of >even mimie,.
capt. M. watches Urn tenderly.
off itf ■ \ f""" °^^ ^'■^^y ' I'™ ^^ » few turned
off before but never one who went to the gallortn
It s the thoroughbreds that sweat when they're baeked
mo douUe.harness._And that's the man'^ho went
^Lr^ ^^'""*» ""«'• «•) But this is wo,«e than the
guns, old pal _ worn than the guns, isn't it? (G tmZ
.» h. sleep, and M. toucAe. L clumsily ontheZe-
W.) PoordearoldGaddyl Going like the re.tTf
cW fC^ b' '}: ^' »f 'en. -Friend that stioketl
eloser than a brother _e:ght jears. Dashed bit of a
foend A rj^' ^^*^' And-where's your
fnend ? ^Smokes duconsolately till church cUek strikes
lie down
root and
I tuning-
'■ou'll go
ger peg,
runk as
lightest
a there,
know I
tinuies.
turned
ows in
fiough.
Dacked
' went
isessed
an the
. turns
J fore-
eSt of
cketii
i of a
youi-
trikea
WITH ANY AMAZEMENT
Capt. M. Up with you! Get
Capt '^
155
into your kit.
soon
Already '.
better have a shave?
Capt. M. M/ You're all right. (Aside ^ H«'H
chip his chin to pieces. ^ '^ ^^ ^
Capt. G. What's the hurry ?
Capt. M. You've got to be there first.
Capt. G. To be stared at ?
sha'lTo that /„f:f -^ '^^' ' •» <— ^* you
onoose to clean your spurs, you're under m^, orders.
OAPT M. (finUcaUy,walUn0 round.-) M'yes vou'll
do. Only don't look so ir.» a criminal. Ringrfove
lightup. Lerhnti, Le"s— """"• "^'^
* Good — peo — pie — all
Toprayers — wecali.'
vo,?'^/- T^^^^g- the bells! Come on -unless
you d rather not {They ride oif,-\
Bells "^'^
* We honour the King
And Brides joy do bring —
Good tidings we tell,
And ring the Dead's knell.'
166
^ITH ANY AMAZEMENT
liiiM
Capt. G. iDismounUng ,t the door of the Chwrch ^
I say aren t we much too socu? There are no end >f
people mside. I say, aren't we much too late? Stick
by me, Jack ! What the devii do I do ?
Capt M. Strike an attitude at the li. vl of the aisle
pontion hejore three hundred eyet )
tSV: ^; (■^™^'<'™i'*) Gaddy, if you Wc me.
for p,l^ a BaJ.e, for ti,e Honour of the Regiment sfend
up ! Chuck you, elf ,ato yon.- uniform ! Look like a
man I I ve got to 'lijesE i» tiie Padre a minute. fG
«««i, «to a gmle y.npiraion:) If you wipe vour
face 111 «„.. be your best man again. Stand "«;,/
(Ct. trembles vmihlij,} ^
Capt. M. iBetummg.-y She's coming now. Look
^nf?e steps out of WicJcshaw at Church door. G
catches a glimpse of her and takes heart.
Organ. —
'The Voice that breathed o'er Eden,
That earliest marriage day,
The primal marriage-blessing,
It hath not passed away.'
r„%^^^.' SZ'^'f^^ ^''^ ^yJ«^«^ HeeUooking
well. 'Didn't think he had it in him. ^
Capt. G. How long does this hymn go on for ^
CAPT. M It will be over directly. ^Anxiously
Be^miing to bleach and gulp? Hold on, Gaddy, a-i
think o' the Regiment.
Capt. G (Measwred\ I say, there's a big ^ ^ ^ .,n
lizard crawlmcr nn that ™oii °
Church.')
end of
'? Stick
the aisle
him into
love me,
at statid
)k like a
te. (G.
pe your
md up!
' Look
1 begin-
•on G.
ooking
ousli/
ly, ar.Mi
WITH ANY AMAZEMENT 157
Capt. M. My Sainted Mother I The laat stage of
collapse 1
Bride comes up to left of altar, lifts her eyes once
to G., who is suddenly smitten mad.
Capt. G. {To himself again and again.') Little
Featherweight's a woman — a woman I And 1 thought
she was a little girl.
Capt. M. (/w a whisper.') Form the halt — inward
wheel.
Capt. G. obeys mechanically and the ceremony
proceeds.
Padre. . . . only unto her as long as ye both shall
live?
Capt. G. (Eis throat useless.) Ha — hmmm!
Capt. M. Say you will or you won't. There's no
second deal here.
Bride gives response with perfect coolness, and is
given away by the father.
Capt. G. (Thinking to show his learning.) Jack,
give me away now, quick/
Capt. M. You're given yourself away quite enough.
Her right hand, man I Repeat ! Repeat I * Theodore
Philip.' Have you forgotten your own name ?
Capt. G. stumbles through Affirmation, which
Bride repeats without a tremor.
Capt. M. Now the ring I Follow the Padre ! Don't
pull off my glove I Here it is I Great Cupid, he's
found his voice I
G. repeats Troth in a voice to be heard to the end
of the Church and turns on his heel.
Capt. M. (Desperately.) Rein back! Back to
your troop I 'Tisn't half legal yet.
Padre. . . . joined together let no man put asunder.
168
WITH ANY AMAZEMENT
7 I
If
wtr^T ^,^^*^*W On your own front -one
length. Take her with you. I don't come. You've
nothing to say. (Capt. G. jingles up to altar.)
I.APT. M. (7w a piercing rattle meant to he a whis-
per^ Kneel, you stiif-necked ruffian I Kneel I
^r. u^'a ' ' ' '''^°'® daughters are ye so long as ye
do well and are not afraid with any amazement. ^
CAPT.M. Dismiss! Break off! Left wheel!
n.^ TIT T.. ^11 troop to vestry. They sign.
Capt. M. Kiss Her, Gaddy. ^
ml^M ^^""^^'"^ '^" """^ ''''' ^'' ^^''''^ ^^^
Ishair^' (^«^%o/ie>^a.e^o^nWO If you don't,
Capt G. (Interposing an arm.) Not this journey !
General kissing, in which Capt. G. is pursued by
unknown female.
4"yft^f:r^^^^-^ This is Hades! Can I
Mendelssohned out of Ohurch to house, where
usual tortures take place over the wedding-
«xn»T**' ^^'"'*^-> Up With you, Gaddy. They
expect a speech. "^ ^
Capt. G. (After three minutes' agony.-) Ha —
hmmm. (Thunders of applause.)
Capt.M. Doocid good, for a first attempt. Now go
and change your kit while Mamma is weeping overl
'the Missus.' rCAPT. G /^^V-^-^^- ^.-- ^, ''^''
WITH ANY AMAZEMENT
159
up tearing Us hair.) It's not ha^ legal. Where are
the shoes ? Get an ai/ah.
Ayah. Missie Captain Sahib done gone band karo
all the jutia.
Capt. M. (Brandishing scahbarded sword.} Woman,
produce those shoes I Some one lend me a bread-knife.
We mustn't crack Gaddy's head more than it is. (Slices
heel off white satin slipper and puts slipper up his
sleeve.-) Where is the Bride? (To the company at
large.) Be tender with that rice. It's a heathen cus-
tom. Give me the big bag.
*********
Bride slips out quietly into 'rickshaw and departs
towards the sunset.
Capt. M. (/w the open.) Stole away, by Jove!
So much the worse for Gaddy! Here he is. Now
Gaddy, this'll be livelier than Amdheran! Where's
your horse ?
Capt. G. (Furiously, seeing that the women are out
of earshot.) Where the is my Wife?
Capt. M. Half-way to Mahasu by this time. You'll
have to ride like Young Lochinvar.
Morse comes round on his hind legs; refuses to let
G. handle him.
Capt. G. Oh you will, will you ? Get round, you
brute — you hog — you beast I Get round /
Wrenches horse's head over, nearly breaking lower
jaw; swings himself into saddle, and sends
home both spurs in the midst of a spattering gale
of Best Vitna.
Capt. M. ^or your life and your love — ride,
Gaddy ! — And God bless you I
Throws half a pound of rice at G., who disappears,
160
WITH ANY AMATIEMENT
I
bowed fortva ' on -It saddle, in a cloud of
sunlit dust.
Capt. M. I've lost old Gaddy. (^Lights cigarette
and strolls off, singing absently') : —
'You may carve \i on his tombstone, you May cut it on his card,
That a young man married is a young man marred 1 '
Miss D^ucrcotjkt. (^From her horse.) Really,
Captain Mall'inl You are more plain spoken than
polite I
Capt. M. (Aside.) They say marriage is like
cholera. ' W onder who'll be the next victim.
White satin slipper slides from his sleeve and falls
at his feet. Left wondering.
THE GARDEN OF EDEN
And ye shall be as -- Gods I
Scene. -- Thymy grass-plot back of the Mahasu ddk-
bungalow, overlooking little wooded valley. On the left
ghmp..ofthe Lead Forest of Fagoo ; on the righi
Simla mils. In background, line of the Snows.
Captain Gadsby, now three weeks a husband, is smok-
mg the pipe of peace on a rug in the sunshine. Banjo
and tobacco^pouch on rug. Overhead the Fagoo eagles.
4RS. tr. comes out of bungalow.
M.S. G. My husband!
Capt. (^Lazily, with intense enjoyment.^ Eh
wha-at? y that again. '
^l\ ?• JT '^"**^'' ^"^ ^^"'^^ ^»d told her that
we shall be back on the 17th.
Capt. G. Did you give her my love ?
Mrs. G. No, I kep^ all that for myself. (Sitting down
by his side.-) I thought you wouldn't mind.
Capt. G. (With mock sternness.) I object awf'lv.
How did you know that it was yours to keep •?
Mrs. G. I guessed, Phil.
f/^'r.^' r (^«^*"''^"«^y-) I^it-tle Featherweight I
bad W * ""''''^ ^^ ""^"""^ *^°'^ ^P°''^"^ P®* °^°^^«'
Capt. G. You'll be ailed anythini? I choose. Has
ever occurred to you, Madam, that you are my Wife?
« 161
lU
162
THE GARDEN OF EDEN
Mrs. G. It has. I haveii't ceased wondering at it
Capt. G. Nor I. It seems so strange ; and yet
somehow, xt doesn't. ^Confidently,^ You s^e, it oo^uld
have been no one else.
MB8.G iSoftly.-) No. Nooneelse-formeor
Z^\w^ T' ^"^ ^^'^ "" '"•""'8^'J *'■»■» Ihe begin-
kn^^T ■ ^-"^ •'°"''' I help it? You were ^<,«, you
^Mm.G. Did you ever want to help it? Speak the
.t ^^tr^fi *^; ^i '*"'"*'' •'" *'■' '^'•> ^ d'''- doling, just
».w!' *^\ ^?*'"^ *™ *y '*" "x-M^^a^Ae «»rf making
hmutup.-) 'A-little-beastI> Stop laughing over
your cnme I And yet you had the -the - awful eheek
to propose to me I
Capt. G. Fd changed my mind then. And you
weren't a little beast any more. ^
^aI^^c ^j!^^\y«^"'SirJ And when was I ever?
CAPT. G Never! But that first day, when you gave
me tea m that peach-coloured muslin gown thing, you
looked --you did indeed, dear-such an absurd little
mite. And I didn't know what to say to you.
Mrs. G (iTwisting mouBtaehe.-) So you said 'little
beast Upon my word. Sir ! /called you a ' Crrrreat-
P.t! ^^''^'^r ^ ^'^ '^"^^ y«^ something worse.
UAPT. G. (^Very meekly.-) I apologise, but you're
hurtmg me awf'ly. ilnterlude.y You're welcome to
torture me again on those terms.
THE GARDEN OF EDEN
163
Mrs. G. Oh, w;% did you let me do it?
Capt G. (iLookmgacroB8 valley.) No reason in par-
ticular, but -if it amused you or did you any good —
you might - wipe those dear little boots of yours on me.
MRS. (t. {Stretching out her hands.) Don't I Oh
don 1 1 Philip my King, please don't talk like that!
It s how / feel. You're so much too good for me. So
much too good I
Capt. G. Me I I'm not fit to put my arm round
you. (Puts it round.)
do^T' ^' ^^^' ^°'' *''®* ^"^^ ^~" "^^^^ ^^""^ ^ ^^^^
Capt. G. Given me a wee bit of your heart, haven't
you, my Queen ?
Mrs. G. Thafs nothing. Any one would do that.
Iney cou— couldn't help it.
Capt. G. Pussy, you'll make me horribly conceited.
Just when I was beginning to feel so humble, too.
Mrs. G. Humble I I don't believe it's in your
character. "^
Mrs. G. Ah, but I shall, shan't I, Phil ? I shall
have time in all the years and years to come, to know
everything about you; and there will be no secrets
between us.
.T,^""^;.^*,^'*/" "^'^^^ I believe you know me
thoroughly already.
Mrs. G. I think I can guess. You're selfish ?
Capt. G. Yes.
Mrs. G. Foolish?
Capt. G. Veru.
Mrs. G. And a dear ?
164
THE GARDEN OF EDEN
if
A.:
ir
Capt. G. That is as my lady pleases.
Mrs. G. Then your lady is pleased. (J. pause.^
D'you kuow that we're two solemn, serious, grown-up
people
Capt. G. (^Tilting Tier straw hat over her eyes.") You
grown-up ! Pooh ! You're a baby.
Mbs. G. And we're talking nonsense.
Capt. G. Then let's go on talking nonsense. I
rather like it. Pussy, I'll tell you a secret. Promise
not to repeat ?
Mrs. G. Ye — es. Only to you.
I lo\re you.
Re-ally I For how long?
For ever and ever.
That's a long time. ■
'Think so? It's the shortest I can do
Capt. G.
Mrs. G.
Capt. G.
Mrs. G.
Capt. G.
with.
Mrs. G.
Capt. G.
Mrs. G.
You're getting quite clever.
I'm talking to you.
Prettily turned. Hold up your stupid old
head and I'll pay you for it !
Capt. G. (^Affecting supreme contempt.') Take it
yourself if you want it.
Mrs. G. I've a great mind to — and I will ! (^Tdkes
it and is repaid with interest.)
Capt. G. Little Featherweight, it's my opinion that
we are a couple of idiots.
Mrs. G. We're the only two sensible people in the
world ! Ask the eagle. He's coming by.
Capt. G. Ah I I daresay he's seen a good many
sensible people at Mahasu. They say that those birds
live for ever so long.
■»*• — r\
lUXkS. vx.
TT
xauvv
iOng
?
THE GAEDEN OF EDEN ^gg
StrG* l\"^^;^^-^*^enty years.
MRS. Or. A hundred and twenty years I O nh f
toSnt?"""' '"^•'* '""^' - '-^ - we are
yofrndLSf''^™™''^^*""^*-) '^^'^ Only
until the e7d ^^^77- '^ "^^"^^ ^^^O' "'^e world
, tne end. (^Seea the line of the Snmiii % w«„ v
and,u^et.hehilM„,,^,,^^^
/eCnd'tha'rel^^Jl^: ^^ '- P«'-'»I,.
Mrs. G. ^Drawing nearer to Um^ Yes now hnf
afewarda What, that little black L oXTnTw
OAPT. Ct. a snowstom, forty miles awav You'll
see It move, a. the wind carries it across the face of tha
spur, and then it will be all gone
Capt G. (^„:n„«,j,.) .Not chilled, pet, are vou?
Better let me get your cloak. ^
MBS.G. No. Don't leave me, Phil. Stay here I
beheve I am afraid. Oh, why are the hilkso Z'J,
Pbl. prom,se me, promise me that you'll Za^X.'.
Capt. G. What's the trouble, darlins? I can't
promise any more than I have- hnl T'li • ?
again and again if you like. ' ' ^"""'•' *'"'*
laugh. iRecoverir^.) L hnstad v„7' ^^ ''°. "^
little goose. nnsband, you ve mamed a
«,i,o+ ~ "^ v'--j ^t^/wt-rfy.; Havel? lamcontpnf
whatever she is, so long as she is mine.
166
THE GARDEN OP EDEN
Mes. G. (^Quickly. ^ Because she is yours or because
she is me mineself ?
Capt. G. Because she is both. (^PiteouBly.) I'm
not clever, dear, and I don't think I can make myself
understood properly.
Mrs. G. I understand. Pip, will you tell me
something ?
Capt. G. Anything you like. (^Aside.^ I wonder
what's coming now.
Mrs. G. (^Haltingly^ her eyes lowered.') You told
me once in the old days — centuries and centuries ago
— that you had been engaged before. I didn't say
anything — then.
Capt. G. (^Innocently.) Why not?
Mrs. G. (Raising her eyes to his.) Because —
because I was afraid of losing you, my heart. But
now — tell about it — please.
Capt. G. There's nothing to tell. I was awf'ly old
then — nearly two and twenty — and she was quite
that.
Mrs. G. That means she was older than you. I
shouldn't like her to have been younger. Well ?
Capt. G. Well, I fancied myself in love and raved
about a bit, and — oh, yes, by Jove I I made up poetry.
Ha! Ha!
You never wrote any for me! What
Mrs. G.
happened ?
Capt. G.
went phut.
I came out here, and the whole thing
She wrote to say that there had been a
mistake, and then she married.
Mrs. G. Did she care for you much ?
Capt. G. No. At least ahe didn't show it as far as
I remember.
THE GARDEN OF EDEN jgy
Mrs. G.- As far as you remember I Do you remem-
dark and dismal tragedy? up m any
cil'i % Vr "*" ■""„**"• ^^^^^^f^y- P''^P^ "1 tell.
Mes. G. Good Heavens, Phil ! I never knew that-
you could speak in that terrible voice
.et^al ti^r:: "^Z^ Tr=f fnT?^
t;:,X7 ' "^^ " -^ "-'■ ^°" - ««'"^ -
in tw f H ' °*™'^ y°" •''»•« to speak to me
in that tone, whatever I may do '
ins^r„'v?; ^P°» '"tie love! Why, you're shak-
mg all over. I «» so sorry. Of course I never meant
Zl''\ ' ''" r -y"'-^- I'- a brur
a mn ' ^°" "'" '' """* ^ ^''" *«" - There was
M^'g' r?"'''V ^"^the.^? Lucky man I
for h^ ■ <^» " «'*-i'^'--) And I thought I oared
Capt. G. StiU luckier man ! Well?
didn^t'' ^'a t^^ ^ ''"'"S''' ' •"''^'i *<»■ him -and I
It V. ^° y"" came-and I cared for you very
»,, much indeed. That's all. (Fa.e Md^eiy yZ
aian t angry, are you ? / ^ uu
Cap'\ G. Angry? Not in fi^o i.„„^ ^ >. .
Ciood Lord, what have I done to deserve this angel"?
168
THE GARDEN OF EDEN
w,ai
I
Mrs. G. (Aside.) And he never asked for the
name! How funny men are! But perhaps it's as
well. ^
Capt. G. That man will go to heaven because you
once thought you cared for him. 'Wonder if you'll
ever drag me up there ?
Mrs. G. (Firmli/.) 'Sha'n't go if you don't.
Capt. G. Thanks. I say, Pussy, I don't know much
about your religious beliefs. You were brought up to
believe in a heaven and all that, weren't you ?
Mrs. G. Yes. But it was a pincushion heaven,
with hymn-books in all the pews.
. ^^^^- ^' (J^<^99ing Ms head with intense convic-
tion.-) Never mind. There is a pukka heaven.
Mrs. G. Where do you bring that message from,
my prophet?
Capt. G. Here ! Because we care for each other.
So it's all right.
Mrs. G. (As a troop of langurs crash through the
branches.) So it's all right. But Darwin says that we
came from those !
Capt. G, (Placidly.) Ah! Darwin was never in
love with an angel. That settles it. Sstt, you brutes !
Monkeys, indeed ! You shouldn't read those books.
Mrs. G. (Folding her hands.) If it pleases my
Lord the King to issue proclamation.
Capt. G. Don't, dear one. There are no orders
between us. Only I'd rather you didn't. They lead
to nothing, and bother people's heads.
Mrs. G. Like your first engagement.
Capt. G. (With an immense calm.) That was a
necessary evil and led to you. Are you nothing?
xvc. Kji. xTfui, BO very muen, am 1 '{
THE GARDEN OF EDl^N
169
Capt. G. All this world and the next to me.
Mrs. G. iVery softly.^ My boy of boys I Shall I
tell you something ?
Capt. G. Yes, if it's not dreadful— about other
men.
Mrs. G. It's about my own bad little self.
Capt. G. Then it must be good. Go on, dear.
Mrs. G. (Slowly.) I don't know why I'm telling
you, Pip ; but if ever you marry again (Interlude.)
lake your hand from my mouth or I'll bite/ In the
future, then remember — I don't know quite how to
put it I
Capt.G. (Snorting indignantly.) Don't try. 'Marry
agam,' indeed I "^
Mrs. G. I must. Listen, my husband. Never,
never, never tell your wife anything that you do not
wish her to remember and think over all her life. Be-
cause a woman— yes, lama woman — can't forget.
Capt. G. By Jove, how do you know that?
Mrs. G. (Confusedly.) I don't. I'm only guessing.
I am - 1 was - a silly little girl ; but I feel that I know
so much, oh, so very much more than you, dearest. To
begin with, I'm your wife.
Capt. G. So I have been led to believe.
Mrs. G. And I shall want to know every one of
your secrets — to share everything you know with you.
(Stares round desperctely.)
Capt. G. So ycAr. Bh^il, dear, so you shall— but
don't look like that.
Mrs. G. For your own sake don't stop me, Phil. I
shall never talk to you in this wav again. You mmi
not tell me I At least, not now. Later on. when T'ta
an old matron it won't matior, but if you love me, be
170
THE GARDEN OP EDEN
rli! ?. T ™ ^ "^^ y" underetand?
vet Z" ^ *'''°'' '"' *""*• Have I said anything
yet that you disapprove of ? ^ ^
Mrs. G. Will you be very angry? That fT.«f
MBS. G. And «^<,«'9 why you shouldn't have told
"'e I You must be the judge, and, oh, Pip, deaX a, T
love you, I sha'n't be able to help voul I .htH-^
you, and you must judge in spiteTm" I ^"'^^
Capi. G. (Meditativel^.y We have a great manv
i-ussy-but we snail understand each other bette'
every da ,„j j ^^.^ ^,^ or bette.
How an the world did you come tolnow^ust t^ajpo"
tance of gmng me just that lead ? ^
Mrs. G I've told you that I don't know. Onlv
somehow it seemed that, in all this new life, I w^ befnt
guided for your sake as well as my own ^
t„„ ?■ *^^"'*-^ Then Mafflin was right t Ther
know, and we_we're blind-all of m. (Li„mu)
Getting a littte beyond our depth, dear, aren't w^fru
. , f.l ^'^ There shall be no punishmeut. We'll start
.m. hfe together from here-yo„ and I-and no 1
Capt.G Andnooneelse. (A pause.:, Your eve-'
S aSu1;i "''-' ' ^- ''-'-- -»> « ^ -^^
before'' ^' ^"^ *"" '^'' '""^ "°°'«™' l^ed
THE GARDEN OF EDEN iji
'Tisn't what we say, it's what we don't say, that helps.
And It's all the profoundest philosophy. But no one
would understand - even if it were put into a book.
Mrs G. The idea! No -only we ourselves, or
people hke ourselves -if there are any people like us.
Capt. G. {Magisterially.^ All people, not like our-
selves, are blind idiots.
Mrs. G. {Wiping her eyes.^^ Do you think, then,
that there are any people as happy as we are?
Capt. G. 'Must be — unless we've appropriated all
the happiness in the world.
Mrs. G. {Looking towards Simla.') Poor dears I
Just fancy if we have !
Capt. G. Then we'll hang on to the whole show,
for Its a great deal too jolly to lose — eh, wife o'
mine?
Mrs. G. O Pip ! Pip \ How much of you is a
solemn, married man and how much a horrid, slanev
schoolboy ? ^"^
Capt. G. When you tell me how much of you was
eighteen last birthday and how much is as old as the
Sphinx and twice as mysterious, perhaps I'll attend to
you. Lend me that banjo. The spirit moveth me to
yowl at the sunset.
Mrs. G. Mind I It's "not tuned. Ah I How that
jars.
Capt. G. {Turning pegs.) It's amazingly difficult
to keep a banjo to proper pitch.
Mrs. G. It's the same with all musical instruments.
What shall it be ?
Capt. G. ' Vanity,' and let the hills hear. {Sings
throuah the first an/7. Ttalfni^i^t,.. o^^^^j ^^^. m . _
Mrs. G.) Now, chorus! Sing, Pussy!
I I
173
THE GARDEN OF EDEN
Both Together. (^Gon brio, to the horror of the
monkeys who are settling for the night,-) —
'Vanity, all is Vanity,' said Wisdom, scorning me -
I clasped my true Love's tender hand and answered
frank and free — ee : —
' If this be Vanity who'd be wise ?
If this be Vanity who'd be wise?
If this be Vanity who'd be wi— ise?
{Crescendo.) Vanity let it be I '
Echo. (From the Fagoo %^ur.) Let it be I
II
I'*
%\
FATIMA
fhoM^Ar'' Tl ^"^ ^*° ^""^"^ '""'^ °* ^^^ ^ouse and see everything
Scene. — The Gadsbys' Jww^aZoM. m the Plains. Time,
11 A.M. on a Sunday morning. Captain Gadsby
in his shirtsleeves, is bending over a complete set of
Hussar s equipment, from saddle to picheting-rope,
which IS neatly spread over the floor of his study He
IS smoking an unclean briar, and his forehead is puck-
ered with thought.
Capt.G. (To himself , fingering a headstall) Jack's
an ass. There's enough brass on this to load a mule —
and, if the Americans know anything about anything,
It can be cut down to a bit only. 'Don't want the
watermg-bridle, either. Humbug I - Half a dozen sets
o. c.^,ins ma pulleys for one horse ! Hot! (^ atchina
his head.) Now, let's consider it all over from the
^?TT .r^J '^'''' ^'^" ^«^^«<^^^ th^ scale of
weights! Ne'er mind. 'Keep the bit only, and elim-
inate every boss from the crupper to breastplate. No
breastplate at all. Simple leather strap across the
ofT^'I? ^ ^^^ ^'''''^"'' ^'' J^^k °ever thought
7 ^T S: C^^fering hastily, her hand bound in a
t Zl S: ?' -^'y^ ^^^^^^^ P^y ^*"<i over that horrid,
iu. Tiparee jam I
173
174
FATTMA
Capt. G. (Ahsentli/,) KhI Wha-at?
Mrs G. (TOA round-et/ed reproaoh.) Vyo scalded
ha'tTa;;; / • """''* r" "'^- ^^^ ^ ^-' - wait
tnat jam to jam properly.
place and make it well. (Unroniuff bandage.) You
small sinner! Where's that scald '/ I can't see it.
MRS. G. On the top of the kittle finger. There I —
It s a most normous big burn !
CattG( Kissing Utile finger.) Baby! LetHvder
look after the jam. You know I don't ca^.e for sw.-t..
Mrs. G. In-deed ? _ Pip i
Capt G. Not of that kind, anyhow. And now run
iSusy.'''''''' ' ^'''^' '"' ^"^ ^^ ^^^ ^^'' ^^^^«««-
T ^^^' wV ^''^'"^'"^^ *^^^^% ^^'-^^^/^ «w ?ow^ cAam) So
1 see. Wha^ .3s you're making! Why have you
brought all tiai ...aelly leather stuff into the house?
OAPT.G. To play with. Do you mind, dear?
MRS. G. Let wg play too. I'd like it.
vnntr'wl F^ ^^'^'^ ^''^ wouldn't, Pussy - Don»t
you think that jam will burn, or whatever it is that jam
keepel?''' ' """^ ^""^'"^ ^^^' ^^ ^ '^'^'' ^^**^« ^«^««-
. ^tT .?\.^ *h°"ghtyou said Hyder could attend to
myself so! "" ^'''''^'' stirring - when I hurt
P ^^^^v..?' ^^'* '^^ ^^^^^'•w^ to the equipment.-)
Po-oor ittle woman ! - Three pounds four and feven is
three eleven and that can be cut down to two eight,
with just a e.-tle care, without weakening anything
Farriery is all rot in incompetent hands. What's the
use 01 a shoe-easfi when n ^ors'- c-^-,j-4»- o t^
-.1 — 1 ,„ ia«n o SuOdUiigf hq cant
FATIMA
175
Capt. G. Cream and champagne and - I.ook here,
dear, do you really want to talk to me a] tnythinJ
important ? *' wt»i^
Mrs. G. No IVo done my accounts, and I thought
X <J li ice to see what you're doing
Capt. G. Well, love, now you've seen and
Ibt/""" ■"- T'>^'-'<-y-Minnie,IreaUy
Mrs. G. You want me to go ?
Capt. G. Yes, dear, for a little while. This tobacco
will hang m your dress, and saddlery doesn't interest
you.
Mef G. Everything you do interests me, Pip.
«ll r*. . ^''' \^''''''' ^ ^"^'^' ^^^^- I'll tell you
tWnt T V^" ^"^ ^^'" ^'^'^ P"* ^ h^-d on this
tmng. In the meantime
Mrs. G. I'm to be turned out of the room like a
troublesome child ?
Capt. G. No-o. I don't mean that exactly. But.
you see I shall be tramping up and down, shifting
these thmgs to and fro, and I shall be in your waT
Don't you think so? ^ ^
r^r^ "?• ^^^'* ^ ^'^' '^'"^ ^^°^*^ ^'^ ^- try.
{.-Reaches forward to trooper's saddle.)
Y^Ju\ ^: ^°°^,/^^^io^«' child, don't touch it.
i^ouU hurt yourself. (Picking up saddle.) Little
girls aren't expected to handle numdahs. Now, where
would you like it put? CSolds .aAM. .•,»., 4 \ _ ^T
MRS. G. (^ JrmAr m her voice.) x^owhere. Pip,
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4 I
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!
FATIMA
how good you are - and how strong I Oh, what^s tiiat
ugly red streak inside your arm?
Capt. G. ^Lowering saddle quickly.) Nothing.
Itsama^kofsorts. iAnde.-) And Jack's coming to
wan with ht» notions all cut and dried I
Mes. G. I know it's a mark, but I've never seen it
before. It runs all up the arm. What is it?
Capt. G. a cut — if you want to know.
Mrs. G. Want to know I Of courae I do I I can't
have my husband cut to pieces in this way. How did
it come? Was it an accident? TeU me, Pip
Capt. G. iarimly,-) No. Twasn't an accident.
1 got It — from a man — in Afghanistan.
MRS.G Inaction? Oh, Pip, and you nmr told me I
Capt. G. I'd forgotten all about it.
Mrs. G. Hold up your arm I What a horrid, ujrlv
scar I Are you sure it doesn't hurt now I How did
the man give it you I
Capt.G. iDesperately looking at his watch,) With
a knife. I came down -old Van Loo did, that's to
say - and fell on my leg, so I couldn't run. And then
this man came up and began chopping at me as I
sprawled. rr e> « *» x
Mrs G. Oh, don't, don't I That's enough I -
well, what happened?
Capt. G I couldn't get to my holster, and Mafflin
came round the corner and stopped the performance,
belferh^'did^^"' Hes such a lazy man, I don't
^tT?' P°"'*y««? I don't think the man had
much doubt about it. Jack cut his head off
MR8.G. Cut -his- head -off I * With one blow,'
as they say in the books ?
Oh, what's that
FATIMA
177
never told me I
^uTl ^■""o'f"'^- I ''M too interested in my.
Tff «^/r"T """'' ""f"' "^ ^"y'""'' »!>« head wi
off, and Jack was punching old Van Loo in the ribs to
Td Lt"— "''■ ^"" ^°" ''""" "^^ *"»"' •*• <^««'
MES.G. You want me to go, of courae. Yoa never
told me about this, though I've been manied to Z
Lr.7 /• ""^ ^°" "°™^ '"'"''<' '"'ve told me if
I hadn t found out; and you never do tell me anythins
Ltrlrn™^"' "' '''^ ^°" ^o- - ">-' you ^e'af
MRS. b. Always m my pocket, you were going to
a^yLmTe/"" *"' ""' ^°" "'« «lwar *»lv
Capt. G. (2VytV^ to hide „ m&.) Am I? I
wasn t aware of it. I'm awTly sorry.
MBS.G CPiteou,-,:,.) Ob, don't make fun of me!
Pip. you know what I mean. When you are reading
strrbTyf ' '"""" "^ " » ^^- '^^ of »
Never'^,-?^/™'"v™'""'»"''-'»5'-*"'''»yAuntI
Wever mind, dear. You were going to say ?
Mrs. G. It doesn't matter j you don't care for what
1 say. Only -only you get up and walk about the
room, stanng in front of you, and then Mafflin comes in
von l"d V ; u' ''■" '° *'"' ""'^"S-^o"' I can hear
thmgs I can t understand, and - oh, I get u tired and
feel ,, lonely !_I don't want to complain and tea
trouble, Pip J but I do _ indeed I do I
l^APT. G.
Hy poor darling I I never thought of
178
MTIMA
ll il
toner J^""' '*°°'' ^"" ""^ """" "'"O P^OPI" » <»
Hnl'^'f**" '^rn'^' Where am I to find them?
K ou know I only want j/ou.
M^^'i?' A"*^ ^'"' '*!"'^ "* '"■^'ly- Sweetheart?
intJf^oufiife?'"'" "•"' ^^-O^'^-'tyo- <»te me
^^Capt.G. More than I do? That would be difficult,
Mrs. G. Yes, I suppose it would _(» you. I'm no
haveHsT~"° """"P*""" *« yo»! ""id you Uke to
M^'c' ,tr''-'"'"z'' "*"" "'^^o-'^ble. Pussy?
MB8.G. (Stamptng her foot.) I'm the most re^n-
abk woman .n the world - when I'm treated properly.
imprt^erly ■? ^"' """ "'*" ""^ ^ **'" '«"'«''» y-
*I"of havt'"""' - ""' """^ *^ '»^'"" ^->"
U^'^' /p''"",'-' '""' ^'""^i"»g to be convinced.
MRS. U. iPomtmg to mddlery.') There I
Capt. G. How do you mean?
to ""told? )^^f«'<««»»««'™a"'? Why am I not
w) De told / Is it so precious ?
Capt. G. I forget ite exact Government value just
MRS. Ct. Then why do you touch it?
Capt. G To make it lighter. See here, little love
agreed that all this equipment is about thirty pounds
^o heavy. The thing is how to cut it down"^
weakening any part ol it, and, at the sam« t-rro all—
FATIMA
179
o» ort S <'»7.«™'y*i„g he wante for hU own
JMbs. G. Why doesn't he pack them in a little
ih^J^' %S^"'''^ ««''0 Oh, you darling I Pack
hitr^frcLS'""^"" *""^ " "-'' "^
nofa'tier^"'^"^""' J'"^ bother about it? You're
» J"*"""- ^" ^°' ''"* ^ """"nand a few score of him •
tha^l^?; ^'J'^\ Of """^e not; but it's a matter
that I m tremendously interested in, because if I or
Jack, or I and Jack, work out some sort of lighter sad
f5j' all that, it's possible that we mg^^ge^t
Mes. G. How?
-.2f^' ?'^ ^^"of^on*^ «t Home, where they will
-^ake a sealed pattern -a pattern that all the saddC
MRS. G. And that interests you?
Capt. G. It's part of my profession, y'know, and
my profession is a good deal to me. E^^thing in a
so dier's equipment is important, and if we 1 imp ov
that^equipment, so much the better for the soldie J^ and
Mrs. G. Who's 'ub»?
radical. Whats that big sigh for, Minnie?
MRS. G. Oh, nothing^ and vnnVo u..^ „n xt..._
a secret from me I Why? "'"' '^ ''"^' "" '"*
180
FATIMA
•ill
! i
.'(
«wt"'**>: *'°' »»«<"«'. '"'aotly, dear. I didn't 8av
anything about it to you because I didn't think it would
amuse you.
Mrs. G And am I only made to be amused?
.^.u*^- ; ' "* '"'""*• I "«"•«>? mean that it
couldn't interest you.
Mrs. G. It's your work and — and if you'd let me
Id count all these things up. If they are too heavy
you know by how much they a,^ too heavy, and yTu
I'^ilSlV.!!:' "^'"^ "^^ -' *» ^- ^-•-^
l.«S^T ?^. '.'"'? «^' *"* ^"^ 8<"newhere in my
healln f ^"t *° **" '"'" '«'" y°» <""» "ate a
modtl Lf ""'""'*' ""'" ^"""^ -""^y "ad a
Mks. G. But if you read out the list, I could copy
^down and pin it up there just above your tebk
Wouldn't that do? '
r^lTL ^" • ^* '"'"'^ ^ "'^^y »'<«'' dear, but it
would be giving you trouble for nothing. I can't work
scale of weights, and the other one-the one that I'm
trying to work to -will shift and vary so much that
I couldn't be certain, even if I wrote it down.
Mrs. G I'm .0 sorry. I thought I might help. Is
there anything else that I could be of use in'
nf.tf'fJ:*^' <i^''f''^ "«"'«'*« »•<"»».) I can't think
m/« 7' A °T " ^J"""*' ""^'P'-e me, you know.
MRS. G. Ami? How?
Capt. G. You are you of course, and as lona as
youre near me-I can't explain exactly, but itf in
Mbs. G. And that's why you wanted to send ma a wo ^ ^
FATIMA
181
Caw G. That's only when I'm trying to do work
-grubby work like thU. ^ 8 "> uo work
Mbs. G. MaiBin's better, then, isn't he ?
Capt. G. (Raiht^.y of courae he is. Jack and I
have been thinking along the same groove for two or
three yeara about thU equipment. It's our hobbrand
It may really be useful some day. ^'
havTta^- fro^f :; t """''^ ^""^ ^^'^ "» *at you
Capt. G It isn't very far away from you now
Take oa.« the oil on that bit doesn't eome oi/on ^Z
hetZ^' T^jf*~/ "^^ ''° •""«'' "«" I «»»!<> really
S/ ; [ ^ r* ^ """"d - « I left the room. But
tnats aot what I mean
would go. (Almd.) I assure you you can't do anv-
h ng f» me, Mmnie, and I must J^y settie down I
this, where s my pouch?
Be^r""' WhaA^''***'^ '' ^nY%-^ai?,.) Here you are,
V; ^^** * "^««« yo" keep your table in I
m^rit^' ^' ^r'' *^"'^ ^*- ^^''^'^ » "method in V
madness, though you mightn't think of it.
MR8.G. (^^«,.) I want to look Do vo
keep accounts, Pip? y^"-
you^^;.^/-^''^*'^ '''" *^^^^^'*^-> Of a sort. Are
careful ^^"^ ""'^"^ *^' ^^^'^P W««? Be
.if I wS^' ..' ^\"'* '^«*"^^ -y^^-^- Good
gracious I I had no idea that you had anything to do
with so many sick horses. ^ ^
Capt. G. 'Wish I hadn't, but they in^i^f .^ f„n:._
B^cic. Minnie, if I were you I really should ;otin;;2
182
FATIMA
!!
i
u
.1
gate those papers. You may come across something
that you won't like.
Miis. G. Why will you always treat me like a child ?
I know I'm not displacing the horrid things.
Capt. G. (^Reiignedly.-) Very well, then. Don't
blame me if anything happens. Play with the table
and let me go on with the saddlery. {Slipping hand
into trousera-poeket.^ Oh, the deuce I
Mrs. G. (Her back to G.) What's that for?
Capt. G. Nothing. (Aside.:) There's not much
in it, but I wish I'd torn it up.
Mrs. G. (Turning over contents of table.') I know
you'll hate me for this ; tut I do want to see what your
work is like. (A pause.) Pip, what are ' farcy-buds ' ?
Capt. G. Hah I Would you reaUy like to know ?
They aren't pretty things.
Mrs. G. This Journal of Veterinary Science says
they are of ' absorbing interest.' Tell me.
Capt. G. (Aside.) It may turn her attention.
Qives a long and designedly loathsome account of
glanders and farcy,
MrSc G. Oh, that's enough. Don't go on I
Capt. G. But you wanted to know— Then these
things suppurate and matterate and spread
Mrs. G. Pip, you're making me sick! You're a
horrid, disgusting schoolbo".
Capt. G. (On his knees among the bridles.) You
asked to be told. It's not my fault if you worry me into
talking about horrors.
Mrs. G. Why didn't you say — No ?
Capt. G. Good Heavens, child I Have you come
in here simply to bully me ?
Mrs. G. I bully you? How could II You're so
II i
FATIHA
183
•trong iSyrtericaUy.-) Strong enough to pick me ui>
tj^yZr^^ the door and leavele thle "1^
rne^Sb,^- ;^';r,u1te':er ^""'"' "^ ^™"°-'
Mrs G. Do Hook ill? iBetuming u table.} Who
» your lady friend with the big gray envelope and the
fet monogram outside? •"'" uie
Capt. G. (4«rf,.) Then it wasn't locked up con-
found .t. iAlou.1} . God made her, therefo^ le her
P^^s fora woman/ You remember what (arcy-buds a™
dowftWi' (*^«"'»^. """^'oi-'O ThU has nothing t»
dowith«Aem. I'm going to open it May I?
rfMn w^ .. °*'^!,"'y' '' yo" w»nt to. I'd sooner you
^foeetcXrl ' "' *° '°°' "' '"" ""'*" '^
Mbs. G. You'd better not. Sir I (?«*« ;««,r/r<m,
e«».^.) Now. may Hook? Ifyousayndsh:/:^
OAPT. G. You've never cried in my knowled.™ i
you. and I don't believe you could. '^'"'^g^ o.
Mrs. G. I feel veiy like it to-day, Pip. Don't be
harfonme. (Seade letter.} It begin in^the mWme
mthout any -Dear Captain Gadsby.' Ir anything. How
Capt. G. (^Ande.) No. it's not Dear Captain
Gadsby, or anything, now. How funny I '^
,ort,?'®:i,,!^'""'"*™"Se letter I CBead,.} 'And
80 the moth has come too near the candle at last, and
has been smged into-shaU I say RespectabiUty ? I
congratulate him, and hope he wiU be as happy L he
?~ *» ■«' .^''»' <!»- that mean? TL^.
a.uitttmg you about our marriage?
6^"
184
FATIMA
lii
Capt. G. Yes, I suppose so.
Mrs. G. {Still reading letter,^ She seema to be a
particular friend of yours.
Capt. G. Yes. She was an excellent matron of
sorte-aMrs. Herriott-wife of a Colonel Herriott.
I used to know some of her people at Home long ago
— before I came out.
Mrs. G. Some Colonels' wives are young — as
young as me. I knew one who was younger.
Capt. G. Then it couldn't have been Mrs. Herriott.
bhe was old enough to have been your mother, dear.
Mrs. G. I remember now. Mrs. Scargill was talk-
ing about her at the Duffins' tennis, before you came
for me, on Tuesday. Captain Mafflin said she was a
'dear old woman.' Do you know, I think Mafflin is a
very clumsy man with his feet.
Capt. G. {Aside.^ Good old Jack I (Aloud,-)
Why, dear ? "^
Mrs. G. He had put his cup down on the ground
then, and he literally stepped into it. Some of the tea
spirted over my dress — the gray one. I meant to tell
you about it before.
Capt. G. (^«We.) There are the makings of a
strategist about Jack, though his methods are coarse.
iAloud.^ You'd better get a new dress, then. (Aaide.')
Let us pray that that will turn her.
Mrs. G. Oh, it isn't stained in the least. I only
thought that I'd teU you. ^Returning to letter.-) What
an extraordinary person I (^Reada.) »But need I
remind you that you have taken upon yourself a
charge of wardship '— what in the world is a charge
of wardship?— » which, as you yourself know, may end
inconsequences *
FATIMA
18ff
I seems to be a
Capt. O. (Ande.y Ifs safest to let 'em see every-
thing us they come across it; but 'seems to me that
there are exceptions to the rule. dAloud.^ I told you
my u'r "" "°"""^ *^ •* «"'"'"' ^""^ -"«'»^»<r
Shfr;.^' * <;f '""f^-) What doe, the woman mean ?
She goes on talking about Consequences-'almost inevi-
tab e Consequences' with a capital C -for halt a page.
(^^^".'earlet) Oh, good gracious I Howabominabfi
CAPT.G. iPromptlD.y Do you think so ? Doesn't
Thank Heaven. Harry always wrapped her meaning
Z "t I. /"''""^•^ ^' " »'«°'"'«iy »«<'«»«"y to B?
on with the letter, darling ? J' •" b"
WaA^'L^f").- "^''^ ''°P«''«''«"'-it'» 'imply horrid. What
r^ghtn" to." '""^'' *° '""'* '" ""^ ""^ *" y°"' She
Capt. G. When you write to the Deercourt girl I
notice that you generally fill three or four sheets. Can't
you let an old woman babble on paper once in a way?
one means well. ^
.\^?A ^' ' "^f'* '*'"• ®'' Shouldn't write, and if
she did, you ought to have shown me her letter.
Capt. G. Can't you understand why I keot it f/>
fr;"u"dir' ' "^^'"'" "' •'"^"•— ^ -p^-o th^
Mrs. G. (^Furiously.) Pin. T hat^ vnn f T\.i •
bad as those idiotic 'ad'dle-b^ron thTfl J'^r
mmd whether it would please me or not, you ought to
have given it to me to read. *
youralli^' '*<"»"««*» the same thing. You took it
Mbs. G. Yes, but if I hadn't taken it, you wouldn't
186
FATIMA
■| ;
1/ '
|i I
have said a word. I think this Harriet Herriott- it's
like a name in a book — is an interfering old Thing.
Capt. G. (Aside.) So long as you thoroughly
understand that she is old, I don't much care what you
think. (Aloud.) Very good, dear. Would you like to
write and tell her so ? She's seven thousand miles away.
Mrs. G. I don't want to have anything to do with
her, but you ought to have told me. (Turning to last
page of letter.) And she patronises me, too. Pve never
seen her 1 (Reads.) ♦ I do not know how the world
stands with you ; in all human probability I shall never
know ; but whatever I may have said before, I pray for
her sake more than for yours that all may be well. I
have learnt what misery means, and I dare not wish
that any one dear to you should share my knowledge.'
Capt. G. Good God I Can't you leave that letter
alone, or, at least, can't you refrain from reading it
aloud? I've been through it once. Put it back on the
desk. Do you hear me ?
Mrs. G. (Irresolutely.) I sh— shan't I (LooJes at
G.'s eyes.) Oh, Pip, please! I didn't mean to make
you angry — 'Deed, I didn't. Pip, I'm so sorry. I
know I've wasted your time
Capt. G. (Chimly.) You have. Now, will you be
good enough to go — if there is nothing more in my
room that you are anxious to pry into ?
Mrs. G. (Putting out her hands.) Oh, Pip, don't
look at me like that! I've never seen you look like
that before and it hu-urts me I I'm sorry. I oughtn't
to have been here at all, and — &nd — and —(sobbing).
Oh, be good to me I Be good to me I There's only
you — anywhere I
Breaks down in long ^hair, hiding face in eushiom.
FATIMA
m
Capt. G. (Ande.) She doesn't know how she
flicked me on the raw. (Aloud, bending over chair^
1 didn t mean to be harsh, dear^ I didn't really. You
can stay here as long as >ou please, ai.d do what you
please Don't oiy like tliat. You'll make you4if
sick. (^«rf,.) What on earth has come over her?
(Aloud,) Darling, what's the matter with you *>
Mrs. G. (^Her face Hill hidden.) Let me go -let
me go to my own room. Only -only aay you aren't
angry with me.
Capt.G. Angry with yoM, love I Ofcouraenot. I
was angiy with myself. I'd lost my temper over the sad-
dlery-Don t hide your face, Pussy. I want to kiss it.
Bendi lower, Mrs. G. slides right arm round his
neck. Several interludes and much sobbing.
Mrs. G. (In a whisper,) I didn't mean about the
jam when I came in to tell you
Capt G. Bother the jam and the equipment I
(Interlude.) ^
.n^^A ?• S^f '"'"* ^'''''^^^•^ ^y finger wasn't
scalded at all. I- 1 wanted to speak to you about
— about — something else, and- 1 didn't know how.
X U/!' ^^^^ ^"^^y^ *^^"- Crooking into her
eyes.) Eh! Wha-at? Mimiie! Here, don't go
away I You don't mean?
^ Mrs. G. (Hysterically, hacking to portiire and hid-
tng her face in its folds.) The - the Almost Inevitable
Consequences I (Flits though portiire as G. attempts
to catch her, and bolts herself in her own room.)
^ Capt. G. (ffis arms full of portiire.) Oh I (Sit-
%ng dowr. heavily in chair.) I'm a brute — a pig -a
Mly, and a blackguard. My poor, poor little darling I
aiade to be amused only ? '
THE VALLEY OP THE SHADOW
Knowing Good and Evil.
Scene -- The Gadsbys' hungalow in the Plains in June
M^eoolies asleep in veranda Jr h^^^^
Gadsby 18 walkina «« n^^ ^..... t._^ . "^^^
ocTOR's trap
generally and
^„^^^jj „^ veranaa
Gadsby is walking up and down^
the— room — and — Hfifi h^r. ci.
Junior Chaplain. Let me do mv work r.^ ..
stop a minute I (^<iy.. o/J,, g")^ ^'"^''y'
Doctor. Wait tiU she sends for you at lp„,t ,
What are you bothering him for?
JtrifiOR Chaplatn- /-/>-.„.•», .■_,^ , . -
--'<- \^--?n-.uff ijttu veranda.) IVa
188
THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW 139
given him a stiff brandy-peg. He wants it. You've
;s^o'r '-' ''' '-' '- ^-- -^ - wo^ti:
G, enters bedroom, which is lit ly one nighUamp.
Ayah on the floor pretending to he asleep.
Jhl?'i^ ^f 7 t ^'^'^ ^^^ ^^^^ '^^ street ^
BMcA bonfires I ^yaA, go and put them out ! (Appeal
^rwly^ How can I sleep with an installation oftht
elsel'-^ZaTn/ ^^ ^ ^•^•^- Something
lie^^^;» * /^'^'''^ f '"'^'"''^ ^*'^ ''''''^ Minnie, I'm
VoJ. ^L-"l ' Phil -it's your husband.
Voice {Meehamcally.) It's me - it's Phil - it's
your husband.
Capt. G. She doesn't know me I -It's your own
husband, darling. ^ ^^°
Voice. Your own husband, darling.
«f«tJ-''°' i/r*^^ '*'' inspiration.-) Memsahib under-
Btandmg all J saying.
A^!^ ^- i^a^e her understand me then -quick I
Catl%ah'f W~ ^^^- ^-'^/-^-^O MemsaUb!
mlTseet'^" '^- ^"^^^^''^"^•^ I W I'm not
bretk^^h. ^^^^''^ '^ ^-^ '^^ '-^--' -- -
we^t^day^?' ^°°^"°'°"^^^' li*<^l« ^oman. How are
PhlTf?f ™' Poor old Phil. (F?.-..«?y.)
PhJ, you fool, I can't see you. Come nearer.
- — i-*— . xT^xxiHioi Its me— you know
me t
190
THE VALLEY OP THE SHADOW
1 P H ' i ! '
ijiil il'i.j
Voice, imchmgly,-) Of course I do. Who does
not know the man who was so cruel to hrwife-
almost the only one he ever had ?
Capt. G. Yes, dear. Yes -of course, of course
But won't you speak to him ? He wants to speak t"
you so much. ^
Voice. They'd never let him in. The Doctor would
give darwaza bund even if he were in the house. He'U
"clTc (f2^:"'^'^0 O Judas I Judas I Judas'
W. ^ I ,*'''*''" was in the house. Oh, my
love— don't you know me? ^
rtJT" i^r " ^"'-^ '*""'•> ' A""! i' «»>»« to pass at
the eleventh hour that this poor soul repented ' It
knocked at the gates, but they were shutitSi as a
plaster - a great, burning plaster. They had nasted
made of red-hot iron-people really ought to be mZ
careful, you know. "omore
armt.) Minme I speak to me— to Phil
Voice What shaU I say ? Oh, tell me what to say
before it's too late I They are aU going away and I
can't say anything. ^ ^
Capt. G. Say you know me 1 Only say you know
me 1
Doctor (Who has entered quietly,) For pit/s
sake don't take it too much to heart, Gadsby. It's
this way sometimes. They won't recognise. Thev
say all sorts of queer things - don't you %ee f
J:^tr' ^' . "^^ ''^^'- ^^ ''^^'^ ^« away now;
she 11 recognise me ; you're bothering her. She must
■ "1 \io m v siie '
THE VALLEY OP THE SHADOW
191
Have I your leave
Doctor. She wiU before
to try. ?
aiow me. Its only a question of — hours isn't it?
J:T- ^^r^--^^^-) While theXliet^^^^^^^^^^
hope, y'know. But don't build on it.
Ust^^ Vfr'*- ,^^^^«^*«g«therif it'spossible.
iAside.:^ What have I done to deserve u.s^
I sLn^l^PhM^ to-morrow. You must take it, or
1 Shan t let Phil see you. It isn't nasty, is it ?
Voice. Medicines I ^/t.ay« more medicines I Can't
you leave me alone?
Capt. G. Oh, leave her in peace, Doc I
^iv^nTr;ef''^^"^ *-^,->a.-^.) May I be for-
srouLtlr'^T; ^"^'^"^-^ In a few minutes
sue ought to be sensible ; but I daren't tell vou to
look for anything. It's only ^eu vou to
Capt. G. What? Go on, man.
clT^r ^;!;rf^'^^^"> Forcing the last rally.
OAPT. G. Then leave us alone.
Doctor. Don't mind what she says at first, if you
can They-they-they turn against those they love
most sometimes in this. - It's hard, but
Capt. G. Am I her husband or are you ? Leave
us alone for what time we have together.
Voice (OonfidentiaU^.) And we were engaged
tWhf ;>'; ^""" ' ^^^'^^^ ^- *^^* I never
thought of It for a moment; but, oh, my little Mel
-1 dont know what I should have done if he
hadn't proposed. '^^
, ,, v'; "^^ ^^" thinks of that Deercourt ffirl befow*
she thinks of me. dAloud.:) Minnie I ^^'^ ^"*«'«
!l!!l
192
TEE VALLEY OP THE SHADOW
Voice. Not from the shops, Mummy dear. You
can get the real leaves from Kaintu, and (laughing
weakly) never mind about the blossoms - Dead white
silk IS only fit for widows, and I wonH wear it. It's as
bad as a wmding sheet. (^ long pause.-)
Capt. g. I never asked a favour yet. If there is
anybody to listen to me, let her know me — even if I
die too I
Voice. {Very faintly,-) Pip, Pip dear,
Capt. G. I'm here, darling.
Voice. What has ha opened? They've been bother-
ing me so with medicines, and things, and they wouldn't
let you come and see me. I was never ill before Am
I ill now? '
Capt. G. You — you aren't quite well.
Voice. How funny I Have I been ill long ?
1-..^^ ^' ^"""^^ ^^^^'' ^^* y^^'ll b« all right in a
little time.
Voice Do you think so, Pip ? I don't feel weU
and -- Oh I what have they done to mv hair ?
Capt. G. I d-d-don't know.
Voice. They've cut it off. What a shame I
Capt. G. It must have been to make your head
cooler.
Voice. 'Just like a boy's wig. Don't I look horrid?
, F^r: % ^^''^'' ^^^^^^ P""^**^^^ i^ yo"^ life* <iear.
inside.) How am I to ask her to say good-bye?
Voice. I don't feel pretty. I feel very ill. My
heart won't work. It's nearly dead inside me, and
there s a funny feeling in my eyes. Everything seems
the same distance— you and the almirah and the table
-mside my eyes or miles away. What does it mean,
Pin?
JT -
THE VAllBT OF THE SHADOW 193
ver?tWerish ^r»" I '"]'' ^^'«™''' Sweetheart -
Ho^ Zne; yo?^f '^ *""•> ^^ '"- ' -y >ove .'
ZZ\Jt, *'""^'" '"■ "^"^y O'-^'t you tell nae
Capt. G. What?
Av!^m" '!"*/''"«»•*' You shan't.
the punkah.) ^ ^'^'^''ah chor do 1 (Stop pulling
Voice. It's hard Pin c„
one year-just one year cIt"'''."'? ^'^^ ^^'^^
twenty, MoBt 1\1T\S '^'""^'^ And I'm only
Can't Ly do XL^^^^^ ^™^^ -* twenty"^
^^ y do a;^^^^^^ to help me ? I don't want to
Capt. G. Hush, dear. You won't
Baby thing died" 7Zl Pd tiStT' ^^ *^' ^o"^''
^l^i tr£aFir "-^^^^^^^^^
Pip, don't you die too ^"'' ' ^"°"^^ ^^'^^d^'
Capt. G. I wish I dared.
Voice. It says : ' Till Death do us part ' ATnfi,-
after that — and so it would h« nl ^ t ^°^^ff
the dying. TF^, does T^^' Z7' On ^'^'l '*
^*^' ''<*' Anythmg but that, Min I
I
\i
" I (Pi
m
194
THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW
Voice. Because you'll forget and I'll forget. Oh,
Pip, don't forget I I always loved you, though J was
cross sometimes. If I ever did anything that you
didn't like, say you forgive me now.
Capt. G. You never did, darling. On my soul
and honour you never did. I haven't a thing to
forgive you.
Voice. I sulked for a whole week about those
petunias. (With a laugh.) What a little wretch I
was, and how grieved you were I Forgive me that,
Pip.
Capt. G. There's nothing to forgive. It was my
fault. They were^ too near the drive. For God's sake
don't talk so, Minnie ! There's such a lot to say and
so little time to say it in.
Voice. Say that you'll always love me — until the
end.
Capt. G. Until the end. (Carried away.) It's a
lie. It must be, because we've loved each other. This
isn't the end.
Voice. (Relapsing into semi-delirium.') ilfy Church-
service has an ivory-cross on the back, and it says so,
so it must be true. 'Till Death do us part.' — But
that's a lie. (With a parody of G.'s manner.) A
damned lie I (Recklessly.) Yes, I can swear as well
as Trooper Pip. I can't make my head think, though.
That's because they cut off my hair. How can one
think with one's head all fuzzy ? (Pleadingly.) Hold
me, Pip! Keep me with you always and always.
(Relapsing.) But if you marry the Thorniss girl
when I'm dead, I'll come back and howl under our
bedroom window all night. Oh, bother I You'll think
I'm a jackal. Pip, what time is it ?
ae — until the
THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW 195
molr '■ '""^'' "'"« ^ ""^' •- "^'» time to-
crearL Tn T '''°"''* ^^^« ^^ "P«et the
cream-ice all over his trouafira of ^u V^
tennis? trousers at the Gassers'
Capt. G. Yes, dear.
tha^'^Y**" I'^T'^) No. I don't think he'd like
that. 'Your head comfy, Sweetheart?
Gracious. Pip, when did you shave last? Your eh! ?,
vT^' rr ^ ^ ~ ^ «*° * •>«'? it. dear.
V, (G- »*!»«)•».) /wanttosini?.
•Mnme bake, oaten cake, Mimie brews rie,
All because her Johnnie's coming !,„„, fc„„ ^e «a.
(Ihat's parade, Pip.)
And she grows red as rose, who was so pale;
And - Are you sure the nhiirnh-«!oc1r ! «°" i .
1. ^socK guc3 f says she.*
(Pe«.%.) I k„ew I oouWt take the last note.
196
THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW
How do the bass chords run ? (^Puts out her hands and
begins playing piano on the sheet.)
Capt. G. (Catching up hands.) Ahh! Don't do
that, Pussy, if you love me.
Voice. Love you? Of course I do. Who else
should it be? (A pause.)
JoiOF. (Very clearly.) Pip, I'm going now. Some-
things choking me cruelly. (Indistinctly.) Into the
dark — without you, my heart. — But it's a lie, dear —
we mustn't believe it. - For ever and ever, living or
dead. Don't let me go, my husband — hold me tight.
— They can't — whatever happens. (A cough.) Pip
-wyPipI Notforalways-and-so-soonI (Voice
ceases.)
Pause of ten minutes. G. hunes his face in the
side of the bed while Ayah bends over bed from
opposite side and feels Mrs. G.'s breast and
forehead.
Capt. G. (Rising.) Doctor Sahib ho salaam do.
Ayah. (Still by bedside, with a shriek.) Ai I Ai '
Tuta—phuta! My Memsahibf Not getting — not have
gotl—Pusseenaagyaf (The sweat has come.) (Fiercely
to G.) TUM Jao Doctor Sahib ko jaldi! (You go to
the doctor.) Oh, my Memsahib /
Doctor. (Entering hastily.) Come away, Gadsby.
(Bends over bed.) Eh! The Dev-What inspired
you to stop the punkah? Get out, man -go away-
wait outside I Go/ Here, Ayah I (Over his shoulder
to G.) Mind, I promise nothing.
The dawn breaks as G. stumbles into the garden.
Capt. M. (Reining up at the gate on his way to
parade and very soberly.) Old man, how goes ?
— ' -^' v^w^pw-v -i auuu quite inow. btay a
THE VALLEY OP THE SHADOW jgy
bit. Have a drink or something. Don't run awav
You're ju8t getting amusing. Ilal Hal ""y-
w;^";f ^^"'''•^ What «m I let in for? Gaddv
has aged ten yeara in the night. ^
Yor^ZJt-Jf^'' ^"'"""^ "^'■^^^'' *-''•''"«•)
(mI^{ f , n°K",''- ^"* " ''""^ht, will you?
^ r.p 'p" ^''"* *<»• P*™*!^- Poor Gaddy
««<*>«% .<a»* ,ton„^ toward, the veranda
±m day bnghtent,
DocTOB iKmoked cut of profe>,ioml gravity, tramp.
i<ur cnance . The flicker, y'know. The sweat, v'know '
Imw how .t would be. The punkah, y'know Deucid
tZT"" t1- ^^"'^ "' ^°"''- Stopped The punkah
just at the nght time. A da>/u>d good chance - No
you don't go in. We'll pull her through yet I pr^^i"
2 my reputation -under Providence. ScndTman
^1^^ T^ u'r^'^- ^'"' ^""^ •««or tin one
^^.S""' W«puU her round. (^..Ji
Ibur-b*^h '^^..'""^^"'"^"f^'^-'harger.y Jack/
H.7 r.^T*' ^" Soing to make a bub -bub
— bloody exhibitiod of byself.
Tif; V^^'"^''*' ^ ■> •'omg it already. Old bad
what cadi y, Vb as pleased as -Cod « you'
Gaddy 1 You're one big idiot and I'b adother fpZ
JTOioE Chaplain, awho .-- ^e ;„ «, i,„^^.
198
f:
II Hi
1 ^
:! 1:
hi
i
THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW
We — we are only men in these things,
know that I can say nothing now to
confidence.)
Gadsby. I
help
Capt. M. (Jealously/.} Then don't say it I Leave
him alone. It's not bad enough to croak over. Here,
Gaddy, take the chit to Single and ride hell-for-leather.
It'll do you good. I can't go.
Junior Chaplain. Do him good I (SmiUnff.) Give
me the chit and I'll drive. Let him lie down. Your
horse is blocking my cart —please /
Capt. M. (Slowli/ without reining hack.) I beg
your pardon — I'll apologise. On paper if you like.
Junior Chaplain. {Flicking M.'s charger.) That'll
do, thanks. Turn in, Gadsby, and I'll bring Single
back — ahem -—' hell-for-leather.'
Capt. M. {Solus.) It would have served me right
if he'd cut me across the face. He can drive too. I
shouldn't care to go that pace in a bamboo cart. What
a faith he must have in his Maker— of harness I Come
hup, you brute! {aallops off to parade, blowing hi»
nose, as the sun rises.)
(interval op pivb weeks.)
Mrs. G. ( Verg white and pinched, in morning wrap,
per at breakfast table.) How big and strange the room
looks, and oh how glad I am to see it again I What
dust, though I I must talk to the servants. Sugar,
Pip? I've almost forgotten. {Seriously.) Wasn't I
very ill ?
Capt. G. flier than I liked. {Tenderly.) Oh, you
bad little Pussy, what a start you gave me I
Mrs. G. I'll never do it again.
•^^ir^. <x. iuuu uutwjr noB. And now get those
THE VALLEY OP THE SHADOW 199
poor pale cheeks pink again, or I shall be angry. Don't
try to lift the urn. You'll upset it. Wait. C Comes
round to head of table and lifts urn.)
Mrs. G. {Quickly.^ Khitmatgar, bowarcki-khana
see kettly lao. Butler, get a kettle from the cook-house.
{Drawing down G.'s face to her otvn.) Pip dear /
remember. *^ '
Capt. G. What?
Mrs. G. That last terrible night.
Capt. G. Then just you forget all about it.
Mrs. G. (Softly, her eyes JUling.) Never. It has
brought us very close together, my husband. There I
^Interlude.) I'm going to give Junda a aaree.
Capt. G. I gave her fifty dibs.
Mrs. G. So she told me. It was a 'normous reward.
Was I worth it? (Severalinterludes.) Don't I Here's
the khitmatgar. — Two lumps or one, Sir ?
ill iil'iii
I i'li"
Hi!
THE SWELLING OP JORDAN
^^^'"'^^'^^^^To.T^^^^^^^ thee,
peace wherel„ thou trustedst they weSth- 'H k '^' ''*"** °'
do In the swelling of Jordan ? ^^' *''®° ^°^ ^"' ''^ou
Scene. ^The Gadsbys' A^^n^aW m the Plain,, on a
CA^.M. WMrs.GadsbrW^^^^^^
Phenomenon and the Proud T^roprietor ?
.h^'''w»; 7°^'" ^'^^ '^^^'" ^" *h« ^ront veranda- .0
through the house. I'm Martha just now. ' ^
Pa««.« m^./r.w« veranda.where Gadsby /««;a^.A.
7 ^^^^SBY Junior, a^ed ten months, crawling
about the matting. "^
Capt. M What's the trouble, Gaddy-spoHin.^ an
honest man's Europe mornin.^ this way? cL ' ' .
^NioR.) By Jove, that yearling's comin^ on lZ:^:i
Any amount of bone below the knee there
vontf-^ilfv y"^,^«'«^^«^l% little scoundreL Don't
you think his hair's growing ?
M. Lot's have a look. Hi! Hstl Come here
Gentrai u.k, . ud we'll report on you. '
give I1..T. nfc_. I ? Why do you call him that ?
200
4N
a wearied thee,
in the land of
how wilt thou
Plaint^ on a
'h bearer in
■ rides up.
8 the Infant
eranda; go
of khitmat-
BY is watch-
w, crawling
spn'Ung an
:el. Don't
ome here,
I will you
• THE SWEIilNu OP JORDAN 301
Do^n't^h!'' *" "'?' '™1'«'='<"-G^"eral of Cavalry'
tbo wav ili« ^\.\y.A 1 -^ private opinion on
weS they" ' "''"'"'™" "*"' ?■«'• "^-"fl" 'Wd.
wist" to s'lr rt •' ''"°™ """• "■'' "•"^'^"'f' I '•'"'•'
share t„„ f ^/° *f'™" "•" ■""■•° than mv fair
yol •]!I'"' Can°t '"„ '° IT"""''' >°"'" "" letter.
.t|;^r^r^i--r;rs
M. You look awfly serious. Anything wrong?
^- Depends on your view entirely I sav T„ 1,
you won't think more hardly of me thl ^' u '
will you? Come farther tlwaT Th«7 T^^'F'
matter is fhaf tn.o j ^' ~~ ■*^^^® ^*°* of the
A^o — only married.
^14
u
j
:'i''
j
!
\l
i
Hi!
1 :'
202
THE SWELLING OF JORDAN
M. Look here! What's the meaning of it all ? You
never intend to leave us. You can^L Isn't he b^st
squadron of the best regiment of the best cavaS in a
the world good enough for you ?
G. (Jerkinff his head over his shoulder.-) She doesn't
ThTi:.^7 i" *"' ^P^o-^ken counti^y.and ther:>
TbeButeha to be considered and all that, you know.
U. Does she say that she doesn't like India '
leaV- ' ""^ """* "' '*• '■'^ ^»"'' *» *- "*
M. What are the Hills made for ?
G. Not for ray wifo, at any rate.
M. Yon know too much, Gaddy, and— I don't HIta
you any tie better for it I iaontlike
G. Never mind that. She wants England, and The
^tcM would be all the better for it.S'm gol to
chuck. You don't underetand. ^ ^
M. Cffotl!/.) I understand this. One hundred and
&rT™'' '"""'' *° '"' "«t«d into shape somehow
before Luck comes round again; a hairy-heeled draft
who 11 give more trouble than the horaes ; a camp next
cold weather for a certainty; ourselves tLe ZZnZ
roster ; the Russian shindy ready to come to a head at
five minutes notice, and you, the best o{ us all, back-
fai^ly.^Zi! """^ "^ ^""^ <'"««' ^---J^ his
ni^^; »L''T1"' * "*"' *''""St- who told me, the
night after Amdheran, when we were picketed under
Jaga, and he d left his sword -by the way, did you
C ''thS* ".t "'='* ^-"'J?-- - Utmanzai's
neaa — that man told me thaf. haM af;„i, u , .,
— I don't like
towards hia
THE SWELLING OP JOBDAN jOS
Pinks as long as he lived. I don't blame him for not
sicking by me -I'm not much of a man -but I 1
blame h.m for not sticking by the Pink Hussa:.
th.„ ^'^T''^-^ ^« '^^^ little more than boys
then. Can't you see, Jack, how things stand ' 'tS
as If we were serving for our bread. We've all of 1
"ore or less, got the filthy l„ere. I'm luckierlhl'
some, i^rhaps. There's no .all for me to ser™ on.
Rerimefr 'if '' "f ^f"/"" »' for „s, except the
coto"" ^^"^ '*°" * "^"^^ *" '">«^or to that, of
^.?\ """'^ ^ ^ ^^^ 0" * ">»". You know that a
ot of us only take up the thing for a few Z^ fj
M. Not lots, and they aren't some of U,
Or. And then there are one's affaira at Home to h«
considered-my place and the i^nts, andTthaf I
don t suppose my father can last much long»^ and ttat
means the title, and so on. ^ ' ***'
M. 'Fraid you won't be entered in the Stud Rn„i,
correctly unless you go Home ? Take six montfe fhen
and conie out in October. If I could slayX b™the;
or wo, I s'pose I should be a Marquis of sor^ Z"
fool can be that; but it needs ».«, Gaddy - „;„ tke
you to lead flanking squadrons properl/ Don"t vou
delude yourself into the belief that yL're goWHome
to take your place and prance aboutLongTnlnosed
het.^ r iTt S. "^^ "" "^« - ''^^^"^ -
M. No — Draisfi ho fn P».^ — :a , ..
two women who have had the good sense toZlme
W.
204
THE SWELLING OP JORDAN
m
n
I m
Q. Then you don't know what it is to go into vour
own room and see yonr wife's head on the pillow 1"
when everything else is safe and the house shu T; f" ^
^a''At """"^ ""^"^^^ *"' ™°'-'^'"- -"Ce
• S„^; ^^r'''*'^ Revelations firat and second I rAloud.)
and^;„„L .T " ""'? '"'"' «<" '1"% "' 0"^ Mess once
and confided to me that he never helped his wife on to
her horse without praying that sheVl break her neck
l^fore she came back. All husbands aren't aUke. you
G. What on eartii has that to do with my case?
Th. man must ha' been mad, or his wife as bad'aa thly'
vof»» ^^'v '■^. '?" *""" °* y"^ ^ e"h» weren't all
you say You've forgotten tie time when you were
msane about the Herriott woman. You alwa™ weTH
good hand at forgetting. CAloui.y Not LT^
r T J roof-beams are sound enough.
^- That was only a way of speaking. I've been
uneasy and worried about the wL evfr sinle th"
awful busmess three years ago -when -I nearly lost
her. Can you wonder? uoariy lost
nWe *^yJ '''""/«™^ '»"^ t«^-=e in the same
place You ve paid your toll to misfortune - why
should your Wife be picked out more than anyWy
do?; „lr f'*,^'""* *' reasonably as you can, bat you
acre's Ttr«",r^°"r.''""'' ""-J^-^tand. And then
tteres The Sutoha. Deuce knows where the Ayah
takes h,m to s.t in the evening I He has a bit of a
cough. Haven't you noticed it?
■L.
THE SWEtLWO OP JORDAN 2O6
M. Bosh ! ^ The Brigadier's jumping out of m skin
mth pure conibon. He's got a muzde like a rose-leaf
and the chest of a two-year-old. What's demoralised
jruu .
F„!k !*''"*• "^^^'^ *^' '""S »■«* *« stort of it.
M. But what 18 there to funk ?
G. Everything. It's ghastly.
M. Ah! I see.
You don't want to fight,
And by Jingo when we do,
YouVe got the kid, you've got the Wife,
You've got the money, too.
That's about the case, eh ?
G. I suppose that's it. But it's not for myself. It's
because of am. At least I think it is
h^^A ^^\f VT • ^°°^^"^ ^* *^« "tatter in a cold-
blooded light, the Wife is provided for even if you were
wiped out to-night. She has an ancestral home tTZ
to, money, and the Brigadier to carry on the illustrious
name.
G. Then it is for myself or because they are part of
7it i!T. ';r "' ''' ""' ^^'^'« «° ^-^' - pi~
underl^dt ' "''* *° "^'^ '' ^"^^^ '^'^' ^^'^ y-
asfhey5;t t ^.^^^-"^ Orf'cer's charger,'
G. Andl have everything to my hand to make it
nnf J "" «^^^/ *1^« «<^rain and the worry for their sakes
out here; and there isn't a single real difficulty to pre-
vent my dropping it altogether. It'll only cost me -
Jack, 1 hope you'll never knnw flio .i.» ^u-x t,
been gomg through for the past six months.
206
THE SWELLING OF JORDAN
1 ■H'l
i'i«
^. (^Laughing bitterly.) Has h«9 ixri, . ,
call craninff over fo «,«« £u ^^^* ^o Jou
M In ir •! ^^^""^ ^°"^ ^«*^-f ore lands ^
^vi. m my case it means thaf T »,o« u
Considerable Bend anH^. ^""^ ^'^^^ «^^ the
M. (ffraoe^j,.) Heaven forbid » A m»n ri,
can't be as bad as that A f»ii • ■ ° '"^^ y"
never gives it a"h„uS.t " "" '""^ '""& >"" »"«
«_tbe squadron behind ilT^Z^^Zt^^ ^
out, and y'ou can alwa^'pLw^rr*^ ■^"^^'F-
>r. haven't the dust to tofht r I tT7 ""^ " '''^•
Whoever h.rd of a horse ste^i^' ^ fn.^ "-• ^"^
open ouXTorErr^trn^ '"'° ^^"^ «"* ""^ ""^r
M. Oh, this is childish!
yoL'rfddl Van'urT*r ^*- ^ ''™'' -™-
pick his wa;-Xpecfa,; Jhen^ ^^^ »* "-'« *"
column of t^op 4h .^yl^ ZV ' "' '"
M. Once in a Blue Monn ^ „ .
. ,,„ „.p gallop in column of
THE SWELLING OP JORDAN
troop and then only to save time. Aren't three
enough for you ?
G. Yes —
207
lengths
full
developi
quite enough. They just allow for the
pment of the smash. - „. ^,„„j, ,„,« a cur
1 icnow: but I m you that, for the past three Laths
I ve felt every hoof of the squadron in the small of tv'
back every time that I've led. ^
M. But, Gaddy, this is awful !
rtfp- 1'°,^' '' '°™'y- ^''''* '* "y^? A Captain of
th%^'"'^ °'^^- .?' «1"«>«h«d like a »„„„,*, and
ae Troop^ei^ant-Major cocked his eye at me You
W old Haffys eye. I was affaid to^o'^H
M. I should think so. That was the best wav m
ruptu,. old Van Loo's tummy, and ma^e m^'ormpk
you up. You knew that. crumple
G. f *dn't care. It took the edge off him.
M. 'Took the edge off him'? Gaddy, you- vou
-you «.«,«„•<, you know I Think of the men
^itheytnolf *""« ' """ '''^^ »*• ^'you
sk^m ^tti^T '"" V "'.f *,''^'™ ^'"^y l''^^ to »P»t
send t^ W f u"^ 1 *''"* ''"''• ®^« ^"'0' old »»«,
send the Wife Home for the hot weather and come to
cross the Rhotang- shoot ibex or loaf -which vmi
ple^e. Only come/ You're a bit off your olts IZ
you're talking nonsense. Look at the cZel- C
bellied radical ^hat h'^ - TT- i •- swag-
ua- .iidi; ne xo. Hu has a wite and no end of a
bow-wmdow of his own. Can any one of „s ride ro^^J
Hi
i
1
; (•■
;!■
'i ;
1
■ 1
v.il;
■"
■ f
1 lll
!
1 'I
![
it '
208
THE SWELLING OP JORDAN
him— chalkstones and all? I can'f an^ t *i,- i r
shove a crock along a bit. ' ^ ^ *^'°^ ^ °»^
Gr. Some men are difffiiAnf t t. ,. ,
Lo.d help „e, I have:? the Lvelr™V^ ""^''-
hole and a half f^. «..f T ^ ^® **^en up a
I can't Zpt^ rm s "? ^"/I "'" """^^ *« ^""^t^-
me. OnT soul i luff "u ""^'^^S ""Wening to
agat owfup"""' *■""• ' """""J -- >»- the eour-
jufi Argr„rt o^thrhi"^,-^,-:^" l'^-
Jack, you won't v — R„f t i "^ ^ ^*^"' °^^ "»»»•
G. Eh I Wha-at?
came to U8. ^ ^"'^^ «™'' "nee she
mL ''''"'' *" *""'• ^°"'' *»k that. It's all
M. What does she say'
bes?Uttl'^;^lrth?w».V'r't"" "«'• «^«'^ *"«
she wouldn't ~el a rn,' "l*t '"'' '^^ *"'-•"«
came hetweeu Zt^Z' 11^*1 ^Ll^ " ''
turn a? ' "' *'"""^'' '*■ »>>«'» «ve times eleverer
^a^^jf^rcr^^oSr
G. (Absentlu.) I sav. ^^ ,,«„ ^p,__. , ^*•^^•
- -^j — ^„„ aespise me?
>r have the cour-
THE SWELLING OF JORDAN 209
..^A .w ""'' "^^^ ^^ P"**^°^ '^' Have you ever been
utf^ttrrr^ Thin.an.nute. WtTns^wS
G. So bad as ^^a«? I'm not entitled to expect anv
aU^umfo™ and „o riding, I MU>ye/^^7l'~
G. Thirty-three. I know it's
flft^' ^n **"*^ ^°"'" ■* * *"»■ 0* a J.P. landlord At
^fyyou'U own a bath-ohair, and The BrirdYer if he
You ve managed it in thirty-three. "^
G. Don't make me feel woree than I do Will if
rtfraiZdr^-^-'^-"^-
^1 Itn'tilkXuYikfU titrt^". ^'"^
Wed down. You n> J^^t tot alirivl^-tf
vmi Of 7' ^^^ ' ""^ """" ^ sliaU do without
you. Of^ course, you've got the n.oney and the pC
/S'i
210
THE SWELLING OF JORDAN
^ :: it
iiiSI
G. 'Doesn't make it any the sweeter T'm 1.0 i •
out I Irnnw T ^^ r ^ »weeier. im backinop
-.. . w. w, ,. wta „^ ,1 1- ;■;;; «
M. (Aside.) /Couldn't conceive any woman ,r«ff
MRS. (x; (pmiw^ down veranda.) What are vn„
waggmg your head over, Pip ? ® ^'^'^
M. C2^^m% ^^,e,%.) Me, as usual. The old ser
rTed IZ "''°'u" —--ding me to g mat
ned Never saw such a one-ideaed man I
Mrs. G. Well, why don't vnn? V a
would make some wom'an v^ry Ll ' '""^^ ^^^
1. A ^ '
THE SWELLING OP JORDAN 2II
G. There's the Law and the Prophets, Jack. Never
O Lord I ^^'°'^''*' Make a woman happy. (Aside.:^
M. We'll see. I must be off to make a Troop Cook
desperately unhappy. I won't have the wily Hussar fed
on Government Bullock Train shinhones -.(Hastily.)
Surely black ants can't be good for The Brigadier. He's
pickmg em off the matting and eating 'em. Here, Seflor
Comandante Don Grubbynose, come and talk to me.
CJAftsG.JumoRin his arms.) 'Want my watch ? You
won t be able to put itintoyour mouth, but you can try.
((t. Junior drops watch, breaking dial and hands.)
Mrs G Oh, Captain Mafflin, I am so sorrv I Jack,
you bad, bad little villain. Ahhhl
M. It's not :he least consequence, I assure you.
He d treat the world in the same way if he could get it
mto^his hands. Everything's made to be played with
audbroken, isn't it, young 'un?'
Mrs. G. Mafflin didn't at all* like his wLh being
broken, though he was t«o polite to say so. It was
entirely his fault for giving it to the child. Dem little
puds are werry, werry feeble, aren't dey, my Jack-in-de-
box? (ToG.) What did he want to see you for?
G. Regimental shop as usual.
MRS.G. The Regiment! Always the Regiment. On
my word, I sometimes feel jealous of Mafflin.
G. (Wearilt/.) Poor old Jack? I don't think you
need. Isn^ it time for The Butcha to have his nap?
Bring a chair out here, dear. I've got something to
talk over with you. ^
And this is the End of the Story op the
Gadsbys.
li
M
mt
■f.-r !■ *
13 5 i
m
'-Ill
L'ENVOI
What is the moral ? Who rides may read.
When the night is thick and the tracks are b'ind.
A fnend at a pinch is a friend indeed ;
But a fool to wait for the laggard behind :
i^own to Gehenna or up to the Throne
He travels the fastest who travels alone.
White hands cling to the tightened rein,
Shppmg the spur from the booted heel,
Tenderest voices cry, * Turn again,'
Red lips tarnish the scabbarded steel,
High hopes faint on a warm hearth-stone ^
He travels the fastest who travels alone.
One may fall but he falls by himself —
Falls by himself with himself to blame :
One may attain and to him is the pelf,
Loot of the city in Gold or Fame :
Plunder of earth shall be all his own
Who travels the fastest and travels alone.
Wherefore the more ye be holpen and stayed -
btayed by a friend in the hour of toil,
Smg the heretical song I have made— '
His be the labour and yours be the spoU.
Wm by his aid and the aid disown —
He travels the faateaf. wlin ffOTr^i^ -i-i-ia
212
i
DRAY WABA row DEE
<^X''^'^,^'^:'.X r ■■ «■-'»« -e ^ not opare in
Almonds and raisins. Sahib? Grape, from Kabul?
me. He is thirteen three, Sahib dIrvh r,ni« •
cart, carries a lady and -HnltT ^^^ ^J ' ^°®' '"^ *
Imams it i« Ta q I ulT ^ Kurshed and the Blessed
xmams, it is the Sahib himself I Mv heart im r«o^ /^
and „,y eye gla^. May you neverZ ti ed, aTuIh
I^ ' A^d rf :," " '"^ ^'^•" "^ " friend toa?^
"euii, bahib, you know the 8ayine_'R„f» »,« *r
men and trulls the women.- It wl !„ orS Ahool
An order IS an ordfir fin ««« • ^ ^^oi : Anooi
obey. O my brotter O T/' 1™"^ T"«^'' *» «''»-
I am to go with you? Your favour is oreat Will
htresTdlhf Td, '" ":f """P""""' ^^™ tie
norses and the bundles and the horsp hn^ njr
Xr^ **"' tte police here h' d m^'a hotS'
What do these Lowland bastards know of hoi^Hhi ts ?
Do you remember that time in Peshawur when S
hammered on the gates of Jumrud - mo^ntSnk tta
he was — an A liu^A .tu. -n , ,. . """i-yoanK tnat
niffht? Ka^y- T r"" "^"'^^^^^ Worses all in one
night? Kamal is dead now, but his nephew has taken
818
Ij
in
,11 :
» la
m 4
214
DRAY WARA YOW DEE
up the matter, and there will be more horses amissing
if the Khaiber Levies do not look to it.
The Peace of God and the favour of His Prophet be
upon this house and all that is in it I Shafizullah, rope
the mottled mare under the tree and draw water. The
horses can stand in the sun, but double the felts over
the loins. Nay, my friend, do not trouble to look them
over. They are to sell to the Officer fools who know
so many things of the horse. The mare is heavy in
foal; the gray is a devil unlicked; and the dun — but
you know the trick of the peg. When they are sold I
go back to Pubbi, or, it may be, the Valley of Pe-
shawur.
O friend of my'heart, it is good to see you again. I
have been bowing and lying all day to the Officer-
Sahibs in respect to those horses; and my mouth is dry
for straight talk. Auggrhf Before a meal tobacco is
good. Do not join me, for we are not in our own coun-
try. Sit in the veranda and I will spread my cloth
here. But first I will drink. In the name of Qod
returning thanks, thrice/ This is sweet water, indeed
—sweet as the water of Sheoran when it comes from
the snows.
They are all well and pleased in the North — Khoda
Baksh and the others. Yar Khan has come down with
the horses from Kurdistan — six and thirty head only,
and a full half pack-ponies — and has said openly in
the Kashmir Serai that you English should send guns
and blow the Amir into Hell. There are fifteen tolls
now on the Kabul road; and at Dakka, when he thought
he was clear, Yar Khan was stripped of all his Balkh
stallions by the Governor I This is a great iniustice.
■" j.m.uix* Ao uKjii wii/ii rage.
And of the others:
DRAY WARA YOW DEB
215
Mahbub Ah 18 still at Pubbi, writing God knows what,
lugluq Khan is in jail for the business of the Kohat
Folice lost. Faiz Beg came down from Ismail-ki-
Dhera with a Bokhariot belt for thee, my brother, at the
closing of the year, but none knew whither thou hadst
gone: there was no news left behind. The Cousins
have taken a new run near Pakpattan to breed mules
for the Government carts, and there is a story in Bazar
of a priest. Oho I Such a salt tale I Listen
Sahib, why do you ask that? My clothes are fouled
because of the dust on the road. My eyes are sad be-
cause of the glare of the sun. My feet are swollen
because I have washed them in bitter water, and mv
cheeks are hollow because the food here is bad. Fire
burn your money I What do I want with it? I am
rich and I thought you were my friend; but you are
like the others -a Sahib. Is a man sad? Give him
money, say the Sahibs. Is he dishonoured? Give him
money, say the Sahibs. Hath he a wrong upon his
fi! c x..?'"'^ ^'"^ "'^"^J^' «^y t^e Sahibs. Such are
tne feahibs, and such art thou — even thou.
Nay, do not look at the feet of the dun. Pity it is
that I ever taught you to know the legs of a horse
Footsore? Be it so. What of that? The roads are
hard. And the mare footsore? She beara a double
burden, Sahib.
And now I pray you, give me permission to depart.
Great favour and honour has the Sahib done me, and
graciously has he shown his belief that the horses are
^olen. Will it please him to send me to the Thana?
To call a sweeper and have me led away by one of these
hzard-men? I am the Sahib's friend. I have dm nk
water m the shadow of his house, and he has blackened
■ » I
i
Nl
216
DRAY WARA YOW DEE
! " I
my face Remains there anything more to do? Will
the Sahib give me eight annas to make smooth the in-
jury and — complete the insult ?
Forgive me, my brother. I knew not - 1 know not
Zt':n VT Y^«' I 1-d to youl IwTpu
dust on my head-and I am an Afridil The horses
have been marched footsore from the Valley to thL
want'oT.!""^ '^'! ''' 1^°^' '^^ ^y ^°^^ ^'^'^ f«- the
want of sleep and my heart is dried up with sorrow
and shame. But as it was my shame, so by God thi
Dispenser of Justice -by Allah-al-Mumit- it shal
bemy own revenge I
We have spoken together with naked hearts before
thl ^l « *,° ■"' "" "^ ''™*«^- Therefore I pay
thee back with hes and ingratitude - as a Pathan
L.sten nowl When the grief of the soul is too heZ
for endurance it may be a little eased by speech; and!
pebble of confession dropped therein sinks and is no
mo.^ seen From the Valley have I come on foo\
league by league with a fire in my chest like the fire
of the Pit. And why? Hast thou, then, so quieWy
forgo.ten our customs, among this folk who sell their
wives and their daughters for silver ? Come back with
me to the North and be among men once more. cTme
t^^' "^Tr T "^'^V' '^"""Pli^ed and I call for
V»T. I ^ ■" "^ *''" peach-orchards is upon all the
valley, and here is only dust and a great stink. There
IS a pleasant wind among the mulberry trees, and the
streams are bright with snow-water, and the caravans
go up and the caravans go down, and a hundred fires
sparkle in the gut of the Pass, and t«nt.n„„ ,„. "1
x'^5 "-"o \T ci.a
DBAT WAEA TOW DEB glT
hammer-nose, and pack-horse squeals to nack h„r«„
across the drift smoke of the eveling. It Tg^Z
the North now. Come back with me Let us ~to^
to our own people I Gomel
Whence is my sorrow? Does a man tear out his
heart and make fritters thereof over a slow fire for augh
for Vour'tir°Tl 1° "°* '^'•^'•' *'»<! "f ""^ne
was She, and I took her to wife to staunch the feud
between our village and the men of Ghor. I am „„
onger young? The lime has touched my Card True
mrtTai^h R^ *"' ".f '"^' ^''^' "»* I loved ™e ■
there is pllir"' J"'" ^''"'^ ^'^' ^"^0 ente.«.
She hath bl nded thee ; and by the eyelids and the frinee
of he eyehds taken thee into the captivity whout
sZT; T r^*' ''''■' °"^* *°" remembTr t^
song at the sheep-roasting in the Pindi camp amons
the Uzbegs of the Amir? ^ »mong
of Ifn "^Tbf ^ ^"^ """^ their women the servants
ot sin. There was a lover of her own neonk I.„f Tt
mfinTourr ""^ "r""^'''- ^^ ^.^e'f^
Faki to th??rVr ^ °™' ** ^'""' P'-''y'"g fr»» the
wtae head .W, ' """"^ °^ "'"'"<» S''*^' ^bazai,
slui un!n\ . T" ^^ """^ "hose hands are
8t.ll upon his wrists, who has done me dishonour, who
to'cI™t"1 "'"'*"''" "* *^ ^"^ "^ '-" --'•—
J fw ; ''*' 8f"°® *"«1™ <lays only; but I had
aid that I would be fifteen davs absent. T . ' I '] '
% her, for it is written: 'frust not" the 'in^oap;!:"
ri a
HUBM
1.5^
f if
218
DRAY WARA YOW DEE
;;■ ■■ [
<|i
1 i
i:ii
• Coming up the gorge alone in the falling of the light,
I heard the voice of a man singing at the door of my
house; and it was the voice of Daoud Shah, and the
song that he sang was ^Bray wara yow dee* — 'AW
three are one.' It was as though a heel-rope had been
slipped round my heart and all the Devils were draw-
ing it tight past endurance. I crept silently up the
hill-road, but the fuse of my matchlock was wetted with
the rain, and I could not slay Daoud Shah from afar.
Moreover, it was in my mind to kill the woman also.
Thus he sang, sitting outside my house, and, anon, the
woman opened the door, and I came nearer, crawling
on my belly among the rocks. I had only my knife to
my hand. But ai stone slipped under my foot, and the
two looked down the hillside, and he, leaving his match-
lock, fled from my anger, because he was afraid for the
life that was in him. But the woman moved not till I
stood in front of her, crying: 'O woman, what is this
that thou hast done?' And she, void of fear, though
she knew my thought, laughed, saying: 'It is a little
thing. I loved him, and thou art a dog and cattle-thief
coming by night. Strike I ' And I, being still blinded
by her beauty, for, O my friend, the women of the
Abazai are very fair, said: *Hast thou no fear? ' And
she answered: 'None — but only the fear that I do not
die.' Then said I: 'Have no fear.» And she bowed
her head, and I smote it off at the neck-bone so that it
leaped between my feet. Thereafter the rage of our
people came upon me, and I hacked off the breasts, that
the men of Little Malikand might know the crime, and
cast the body into the water-course that flows to the
Kabul river. Dray wara yow dee ! Dray wara yow dee !
— J .„x, ^iic u\ju!^j.j i/Uc suui. vvibiiuui/ iignc, and
DRAY WABA YOW DEE
219
ityo™ darkling heart -allthree are one -all three
That night, making no halt, I went to Ghor and de-
manded news of Daoud Shah. Men said: 'He is gone
to Pubb. for horses. What wouldst thou of him' Ther!
•s peaee between the villages. ' I made answer : ' Aye t
Ihe peaee of treachery and the love that the Devil Atela
W °; 7'- ^^ ^ ^"^ *••"«« '"t» the gate "d
laughed and went my way.
In those hours, brother and friend of my heart's heart
the moon and the stars were a« blood above me, a«d in
my mouth was the taste of d.y earth. Also, I broke
no bread, and my drink was the rain of the Valley of
Ghor upon my face. ^
At Pubbi I found Mahbnb Ali, the writer, sitting
upon h.3 chi^poy and gave up my arms according ti
r\ ^ TV ?"* ^ "^ "°* g"^™* *" it was in my
heart that I should kill Daoud Shah with my bare han"s
Ar~.f .^""^ ^^^ " ''"°* »f raisins- Mahbub
pir T.** ^'f,' "^ «™° ""^ Sone hot-foot to
to Delhi, for It is said that the Bombay Tramway Com-
pany are buying horses there by the truck-load; eight
hoj^es to the truck.' And that was a true saying. *
Then I saw that the hunting would be no little thing,
for the man was gone into your borders to save himself
against my wrath. And shall he save himself so
Am I not alive? Though he run northward to the
JJora and the snow, or southerly to the Black Water, I
will follow him, as a lover follows the footsteps oi his
mistress, and coming upon him I will take him ten-
i,„ /ii- , ^ * — ^" ^y ""ns, saymor: 'Well
hast thou done and well shalt thou be repaid.' And
i ■■
'' f
III
220
DRAY WARA TOW DEE
z Lui r r Tf ^^"^ ^'"'" °°' so forth with
^tolT? I„ '"^ "<«»"'«• ^mrh.' Where is the
month "" "^*^ ■" " "»ther.nK«e in the first
holZfi^CL r*' ■' ^"" ''*^ '» "^^ When the
puiara or do the kites of Ali Musjid forbear because
the camon lies under the shadow of the Ghor Sri ?
The matter began across the Border. It shall finfah
where God pleases. Hptp in r«„
Hell. AH tLe tre oS ' "^ °"" ™""'^' " '"
I wliiTeiroT'th^r :' *'' rr^ ''^ -"^ '^^"^ -"^
fml P KK- '""^ '»"«"°g- I followed to Peshawur
i^eshawur like a houseless dog, seeking for my enemv
Once I thought that I saw him washing rrmouai
he w! °° "" ' r *''" ""^ '1""«' »>"' '^tef I came up
ire.rhadL"^^'^""^''''^-''^-^'-"^
A girl of the bazar said that he would po to Nnw
thee/ And she said: 'Even so.' I said- 'I wonld
fein see h m. for we be friends parted for ^wo Z^.
stutter Id T'-,^' •'" f ' ''"''^'''^ "f *« ^'ndow
S said VpTJi' ""f 1".^'^ '"'■»'"?•' And the
gin said. O Pathan, look int» my eyes I' And T
turned, leaning upon her breast, and lo^oked into he
^yes, swearing that I spoke the yeiy Truth of God
But she answei^d: 'Never friend wTited friend wUh
1 would hav^ n4-»«^~i-ji ji . . , -
wo_iu uav^ „..a«giuu tnai; gui but for the fear of
DRAY WARA YOW DEE g^l
she leaned over the win^S^.; ? . *""* departed, and
-e down the s ^et HeTtme" •a%'''^''* ''°'' "'-■^«''
We made nay account wTthT ™""'- "«''>«" I
Peshawurand-herTovr^thin r° \^'" '«""•" 'o
her beauty, sake ^ TaU " tT ^ "° """^ ^"
the cripple among trees Ho Hoi /rr,,''"' ^*'
At Peahawur I bourf.f th' J^ ^* *''*" «he I*'
the almond, and dried't^t iTtC" ^^^' """^
wanderings might be op™ to the A """"''' "^ "^
that there mieht be im hin!? Government, and
When I camefo^t^hetl^:: IZ ^ T '^"*
^S^ fVoiLis r '-' '~-«-^^^^^^
the hoies. AlTniX ft fl» "^ '"? ^ ^ ^'^P' ='"'™ff
not cease torn SrinrT"^ '''"*'''''* "<""^
sleeping as the DeWbsTeeTand •7'" T" "^ '^"y'
the Voice was thllteVa ' T ^"' ''^''° '•«*
south, and thou Shalt Ze upon Danish h "t- '^»
my brother and ohiefest am^ong friend ii,,'"?"'?'
the tale a Ions one ? Thint i, /"®»«s — hsten ! Is
have t^dden^evZ leSifof'T '* "? ^« *» »«• I
this place; and Jm t^" tl^v /"" ''"'"" '^
Voice and the lust of ven„^ ^'"''' "^^ °»'y tl"
me^" H:.''Hot A^tan'm ^' "^ "" "-"-- '<>
even in his trouble tZ Sk? ""^ """^ '--'
cle) to me; and I heard th»v ! "° """"^ ("^sta-
the waters beating on^hetLT "^^^ *« ""'^^ »*
right. • So I wZ to PiL^ ^. u*' '"^'"S^ '0° to the
sleep was uClt t '^£^i' '"'V" *""« "'y^ "^
woman of the Aha^aTw^ J^T^ ^ ^an^-^^^^^^^
P V- \m
I r.
222
DRAY WARA YOW DEE
as it had fallen between my feet. Dmy wara yow dee !
Dray wara yow dee! Fire, ashes, and my couch, all
three are one — all three are one I
Now I was far from the winter path of the dealers
who had gone to Sialkot and so south by the rail and
the Big Road to the line of cantonments; but there was
a Sahib in camp at Pindigheb who bought from me a
white mare at a good price, and told me that one Daoud
Shah had passed to Shahpur with horses. Then I saw
that the warning of the Voice was true, and made swift
to come to the Salt Hills. The Jhelum was in flood,
but I could not wait, and, in the crossing, a bay stallion
was washed down and drowned. Herein was God hard
to me — not in respect of the beast, of that 1 had no
care — but in this snatching. While I was upon the
right bank urging the horses into the water, Daoud
Shah was upon the left; iov — AlgUas! Alghiasf — the
hoofs of my mare scattered the hot ashes of his fires
when we came up the hither bank in the light of
morning. But he had fled. His feet were made swift
by the terror of Death. And I v/ent south from Shah-
pur as the kite flies. I dared not turn aside, lest I
should miss my vengeance — which is my right. From
Shahpur I skirted by the Jhelum, for I thought that he
would avoid the Desert of the Rechna. But, presently,
at Sahiwal, I turned away upon the road to Jhang,
Samundri, and Gugera, till, upon a night, the mottled
mare breasted the fence of the rail that runs to Mont-
gomery. And that place was Okara, and the head of
the woman of the Abazai lay upon the sand between mv
feet.
Thence I went to Fazilka, and they said that I was
mad to bring starved h(
4-1, »»»
A he Voice was
DRAY WARA YOW DEE 223
the sand, and I have seen them pass before my face
There are no Devils, say the Sahibs? TheyZ vT^
-ho.'r "'s.fr.'r ''" *'"^ abo„t'dri.r^
man IS set upon one thing alone, he fea.« neither God
ot jjaoud Shah. What love so deep as hate ?
Do not speak. I know the thought in your heart
Is the white of this eye clouded? How does the t,^
beat at the wrist? There is no madness n t n^f
South of Delhi I knew not the country at all. There-
mZl^r' 71 "''^ ' "'"*' ''"' I P=««^d though
many cities. I knew only that It was laid „n„„ ?
go south. When the hoLs co^rmarl T r^ "^
toew myself upon the earth, and waited till the Sy
There was no sleep with mn in th-t it,-,- • j
that was a heavy burden. Vo.t ^^ ^nZ^Xr^
'■ 'I'J
11
I €1
DRAY WARA YOW DEB
mine, the evil of wakefulness that cannot break — when
the bones are sore for lack of sleep, and the skin of the
temples twitches with weariness, and yet — there is no
sleep — there is no sleep ? Dray wara yow dee ! Bray
wara yow dee! The eye of the Sun, the eye of the
Moon, and my own unrestful eyes — all three are one
— all three are one I
There was a city the name whereof I have forgotten,
and there the Voice called .11 night. That was ten
days ago. It has cheate ' me K-resh.
I have come hither f ,m a pl^ce called Hamirpur,
and, behold, it is my i';.t- *hut I should meet with
thee to my comfort, and the increase of friendship.
This is a good omen. By the joy of looking upon
thy face the weariness has gone from my feet, and
the sorrow of my so long travel is forgotten. Also
my heart is peaceful ; for I know that the end is
near.
It may be that I shall find Daoud Shah in this city
going northward, since a Hillman will ever head back
to his Hills when the spring warns. And shall he see
those hills of our country? Surely I shall overtake
him I Surely my vengeance is safe I Surely God hath
him in the hollow of His hand against my claiming.
There shall no harm befall Daoud Shah till I come;
for I would fain kill him quick and whole with the life
sticking firm in his body. A pomegranate is sweetest
when the cloves break away unwilling from the rind.
Let it be in the daytime, that I may see his face, and
my delight may be crowned.
And when I have accomplished the matter and my
Honour is made clean, I shall return thanks unto
God. the Hnldfir nf i\ifi Roa^a r.f +li« J ^^. — J t -v-h
reak — when
3 skin of the
— there is no
' dee ! Dray
I eye of the
tiree are one
DBAY WARA YOW DEE ^^^
trouble ma. ''""^ ' ""^ »» •I'eam shall
I
re forgotten,
hat was ten
I Hamirpur,
I meet with
friendship,
oking upon
ly feet, and
itten. Also
the end is
I ij
in this city
r head back
shall he see
11 overtake
y God hath
y claiming,
ill I come;
^ith the life
is sweetest
n the rind.
is face, and
ber and my
lanks unto
-,_J T _T-_n
,1
THE JUDGMENT OF DUNGARA
•■^ See the pale martyr with his shirt on fire. — Printer's Error.
They tell the tale even now among the groves of
the Berbulda Hill, and for corroboration point to the
roofless and windowless Mission-house. The great
God Dungara, the God of Things as They Are, Most
Terrible, One-eyed, Bearing tha Red L.aphant Tusk,
did it all; and he w*ho refuses oo believe in Dungara
will assuredly be smitten by the Madness of Yat — the
madness that fell upon the sons and bhe daughters of
the Buria Kol when they turned aside from Dungara
and put on clothes. So says Athon Daz6, who is
High Priest of the shrine and Warden of the Red
Elephant Tusk. But if you ask the Assistant Collec-
tor and Agent in Charge of the Buria Kol, he will
laugh — not because he bears any malice against mis-
sions, but because he himself saw the vengeance of
Dungara executed upon the spiritual children of the
Reverend Justus Krenk, Pastor of the Tubingen Mis-
sion, and upon Lotta, his virtuous wife.
Yet if ever a man merited good treatment of the Gods
it was the Reverend Justus, one time of Heidelberg,
who, on the faith of a call, went into the wilderness
and took the blonde, blue-eyed Lotta with him. 'We
will these Heathen now by idolatrous practices so dark-
ened better make,' said Justus in the early days of his
career. 'Yes,' he added with conviction, 'they shall
226
RA
''s Error.
) groves of
Dint to the
The great
Are, Most
lant Tusk,
1 Dungara
Yat — the
ughters of
1 Dungara
:^, who is
f the Red
mt Collec-
1, he will
ainst mis-
igeance of
ren of the
tigen Mis-
F the Gods
eidelberg,
^vilderness
im. 'We
5s SO dark-
ays of his
;hey shall
THE JUDGMENT OP DUNGARA
<» good and shall with tho,-.. i, a
a" Sood Christianrl?: ;^''?''\*„7»>^ '-™- ^^^
more modest even than that of an Fn vT, " '"P'"''
Justus Krenk kept house fapv^Lir ^"'' '"y-reader,
of Malair, beyond the R^Kri^^?*""'" •"<• *« gorge
of the blue hZ^Panth : "'t ^""^ "'""« "" *« '»»'
Temple of DnnllTiZ^^'' «•">""" stands the
the Buria Kol-^r naked / *" """"''y "^
shameless, lazy Buria Kol «"""'-'«"'P™d. timid.
est station f o which 6^™™^^ """ "' *"« «-"-
.solation that weighs uZ the >,"'"'' '""* y""-
drives you by fore! headlo" g tto't"! K^''''^ "'"'
*>y. There is no post lit • '^'""'^ »* 'he
colour to speak to, tC'a,e?„ " T T "* ^o" °^"
food to ke^p you'aSbTt i "t; T" "' '"*«''•
and whatever of good oi tea,, ft „ ! P'""*°' 'o «»'.'
your life, must come frl^;„",^^:iV:*n *"* " '"
may be planted in you ^ ""**" *"<* the grace that
ver^trSl'^ tr'*^' "^ r ^-*' *"« oon-
the ve«mda. You mitt -T" '' •"' *"°P "P ">
and, above all, cW^ ' htd .""''^ '^""' "'"» P""^"*.
simplicity of ch Zofthe' ^°" ''"'" ^"l- 'he
thesubtletyofth savage yT"'"''' °* "*°' ""O
hundred material wante to h«? T^'^*'°" ^^^ »
you, as you belie^T 1 """^'^ered, and it is for
your Maker, to Ik out^ofV'^"'^' responsibility to
grain of sp ritu! it Vfh,. ' flouring crowd any
oure of soul 7u ltd tttrbod' *"'""• '' '» *"«
all the more im..^ i^lCL^Tj. l^'^:" -" he
VWim any and everv.r.«^ *™":r:':'" ""=. ""aimea will
II
J-
1:1
every creed for the sake of healing,
and
228
THE JUDGMENT OP DUNGARA
111
will laugh at you because you are simple enough to
believe them.
As the day wears and the impetus of the morning
dies away, there will come upon you an overwhelming
sense of the uselessness of your toil. This must be
striven against, and the only spur in your side will be
the belief that you are playing against the Devil for the
living soul. It is a great, a joyous belief; but he who
can hold it unwavering for four and twenty consecu-
tive hours, must be blessed with an abundantly strong
physique and equable nerve.
Ask the gray heads of the Bannockburn Medical
Crusade what manner of life their preachers lead; speak
to the Racine Gospel Agency, those lean Americans
whose boast is that they go where no Englishman dare
follow; get a Pastor of the Tubingen Mission to talk
of his experiences — if you can. You will be referred
to the printed reports, but these contain no mention of
the men who have lost youth and health, all that a man
may lose except faith, in the wilds; of English maidens
who have gone forth and died in the fever-stricken
jungle of the Panth Hills, knowing from the first that
death was almost a certainty. Few Pastors will tell
you of these things any more than they will speak
of that young David of St. Bees, who, set apart for
the Lord's work, broke down in the utter desolation,
and returned half distraught to the Head Mission,
crying: * There is no God, but I have walked with the
Devil!'
The reports are silent here, because heroism, failure,
doubt, despair, and self-abnegation on the part of a
mere cultured white man are things of no weight as
compared to the saving of one half-human soul from a
THE JTOOMENT OF „i;^OARA ^
Wati"!* '" '^-''■»^'^'''' «»""« Of the .00.. a!!
Jong in the distnoHnd the L'T-,' ,"" ''"'' ""^^
brought him offering of, 'Xr!"™f''l 'oved him and
dim moist heart of the foXfa anH ' °"^.'''' *""" *e
«ouM eat. r„ return, he 'v;7. *" """'' ^"o <« he
Athon Daz«, the H.Vh pSf "" l"''"'"^' »"<! "'ith
policies. '*''• ^™»'' oontroUed their simple
Bai'd^tlllCthe Kre'^^k". hiT T"" '" «"> «°"»"y.'
0"ed as good as anotW ^'2"" ^" '^ «"<» ™«
anoe in my power of .1^ , ^"^ y"" ■>" the assist-
Koi. <areTi;rit'd'r'*''"'*'"^^
'I win them the Wor, „f 1 7 '?" ' "'''
Justus, his round f,.„„ fcZ' ■„„ the ^o^j j^^^^ ,
I will assuredly .o their I ^j.'^'*'' ™thusiasm, 'and
without thinkinVmake r„?t°'» "» ^™» '''-tily
"ind in.partiali^.of^;eedf,^d "^u^™""'' *'"^ *" the
y^, r J'O'-oreed-judgmenHie-looking is very
^S":i to^'tf;:!^;:^ ^ f- •>^*» -» the
their souls. On ly do^„°t t, ^ "'"'* y°" '" <»o for
*d, or I'm afnUdMt ctr "" ^""^ P'^''^''''^"
'And that?'said Lotta ^ !^f *f "'"^ y" "fe.'
of t«a. ^""^ ^t"^'?. handing him a cup
' He went up to the Temple of n„„
he was new to the country -and ^^^T - *» >« ™™
Dungara over the head wUh an Ih "Jr ''*"""«""? old
Kol tamed out and hamm red Z"" "''= ^» t^e Buria
was m the district, and he 1. 1 1!**^'! '"^S^'y- I
- »aying= .-Persecuted fo-r ..r^X ^^^^
230
THE JUDGMENT OP DUNGARA
wmg of regiment." The nearest troops were about
two hundred miles off, but I guessed what he had been
domg. I rode to Panth and talked to old Athon Dazd
like a father, telling him that a man of his wisdom
ought to have known that the Sahib had sunstroke and
was mad. You never saw a people more sorry in your
Ufe. Athon Daz^ apologised, sent wood and milk and
fowls and all sorts of things; and I gave five rupees to
the shnne and told Macnamara that he had been inju-
dicious. He said that I had bowed down in the House
of Rimmon; but if he had only just gone over the brow
of the hill and insulted Palin Deo, the idol of the Suria
Kol, he would have been impaled on a charred bamboo
long before I could have done anything, and then I should
have had to have hanged some of the poor brutes. Be gen-
tle with them, Padri—but I don't think you'll do much.'
♦ Not I,' said Justus, * but my Master. We will with
the little children begin. Many of them will be sick —
that is so. After the children the mothera; and then
the men. But I would greatly that you were in inter-
nal sympathies with us prefer.'
Gallio departed to risk his life in mending the rotten
bamboo bridges of his people, in killing a too persistent
tiger here or there, in sleeping out in the reeking jungle,
or in tracking the Suria Kol raiders who had taken a
few heads from their brethren of the Buria clan. He
was a knock-kneed, shambling young man, naturally
devoid of creed or reverence, with a longing for abso-
lute power which his undesirable district gratified.
*No one wants my post,' he used to say grimly, »and
my Collector only pokes his nose in when he's quite
certain that there is no fever. I'm monarch of all I
survey, and Athon Dazd is my viceroy.'
THE JBDGMEOT OF DWGABA ,„
theory beyond his ow„-h?L^ T"' '*'^"<'«<' *«
to the Mission witla iVh" ^^"''^ ^^'ty miles
'addie-bo^. * '"•y '»^'™'° girl-baby on his
Ko.f iii: rrSii" r.- ^^'"'' -■■^ >•«• 'The
why they shouTdnT^t y^" *° *"• 'O""'* "ee
picked it np beyond tt'LTuIdTLri*''' "''^- ^
that the mother has been fnlll ^""^ " "otion
woods ever sinee.' "'"""^^ ""« "^o-gh the
'It is the firet of the fnW • o.-j »
oaught up the sore^ltl-^f^T'^"^ ^°'*»
hushed it craftily; while as T^!* ^ ' *""""» and
Matui, who had borne 11^ ^ ''""«" ^ the field,
law of her tribe rare^'l iTr;"**""* with the
and footsore in the baXTll '' P^**** weary
with hung^motheri^"'^",^™^ '"!^^'^ the house
AssUtant Collector ZT' wT'ld re" ftfl"' """'P"*^"'
black coat eat b«r dam,I>t., T "^^ ™a° '" the
white woman, the nCT^.^SLTTJ"'^ " ^-^^
and in her arms was Mate's l!^t 'f'* never seen,
raiment. Lotta k^JumZ^^^^^'"^ '"«P»tless
Kol, but when mothrca t^ *f^*°"S"« "* *« Bn^a
oUow. By the hanc^^sttlTti'drrV" "^^ '»
her gown, by the passiorte ™i i^ *° *« l"*™ of
«yes, Lotta underato^ l"f^ f ""^ *'"' the longing
Matui took her:hra;^l'j:trd'L'''' '» ''«'^- ««
a slave, to this wonderful whTt^t.:^.! ^«!T'' «-»
tr^l. woula recogn^, her no ■nore.^'MaZZ:^
il
232
THE JUDGMENT OP DUNGABA
with her exhaustively, after the German fashion, which
includes much blowing of the nose.
* First the child, then the mother, and last the man,
and to the Gloiy of God all,' said Justus the Hopeful.
And the man came, with a bow and arrows, very angry
indeed, for there was no one to cook for him.
But the tale of the Mission is a long one, and I have
no space to show how Justus, forgetful of his injudi-
cious predecessor, grievously smote Moto, the husband
of Matui, for his brutality; how Moto was startled, but
being released from the fear of instant death, took
heart and became the faithful ally and first convert of
Justus ; how the little gathering grew, to the huge dis-
gust of Athon Daz^ ; how the Priest of the God of
Things as They Are argued subtilely with the Priest
of the God of Things as They Should Be, and was
worsted; how the dues of the Temple of Dungara fell
away in fowls and fish and honeycomb; how Lotta
lightened the Curse of Eve among the women, and how
Justus did his best to introduce the Curse of Adam;
how the Buria Kol rebelled at this, saying that their
God was an idle God, and how Justus partially over-
came their scruples agauist work, and taught them that
the black earth was rich in other produce than pig-nuts
only. ♦
All these things belong to the history of many
months, and throughout those months the white-haired
Athon Dazd meditated revenge for the tribal neglect of
Dungara. With savage cunning he feigned friendship
towards Justus, even hinting at his own conversion;
but to the congregation of Dungara he said darkly:
*They of the Padri's flock have put on clothes and
worship a busy God. Therefore Dungara will afiSict
1, which
be man,
lopeful,
y angry
i I have
\ injudi-
busband
led, but
bh, took
ivert of
uge dis-
God of
3 Priest
bnd was
p^ra fell
V Lotta
md how
Adam;
at their
ly over-
em that
pig-nuts
I many
e-haired
gleet of
endship
rersion ;
darkly :
bies and
L afflict
THE JUDGMENT OP DUNGARA 233
them grievously till they throw themselves, howling,
into the waters of the Berbulda.' At night the Red
Elephant Tusk boomed and groaned among the hills,
and the faithful waked and said: *The God of Things
M They Are matures revenge against the backsliders.
Be merciful, Dungara, to us Thy children, and give us
all their crops I '
Late in the cold weather, the Collector and his wife
came into the Buria Kol countiy. *Go and look at
Krenk s Mission,' said Gallio. * He is doing good work
in his ow- way, and I think he'd be pleased if you
opene.t i^B bamboo chapel that he has managed to run
up. ..t any rate you'll see a civilised Buria Kol '
Great was the stir in the Mission. * Now he and the
gracious lady will that we have done good work with
their own eyes see, and -yes — we wiU him our con-
verts in all their new clothes by their own hands con- '
structed exhibit. It wUl a great day be -for the Lord
always,' said Justus , and Lotta said ' Amen.'
Justus had, in his quiet way, felt jealous of the Basel
Weaving Mission, his own converts being unhandv;
but Athon Dazd had latterly induced some of them to
hackle the glossy silky fibres of a plant that grew plen-
teously on the Panth Hills. It yielded a cloth white
aaid smooth almost as the tappa of the South Seas, and
that day the converts ware to wear for the first time
clothes made therefrom. Justus was proud of his work.
Ihey shall in white clothes clothed to meet the Col-
lector and his well-bom lady come down, singing « I^ow
thank w. all our Qodr Then he will the Chapel open,
and— yes — even Gallio to believe will begin. Stand
so, my children, two bv twn. svnA t«**" --u- j- ^^
thus themselves bescratch ? It is not seemly to wriggle,
t
I
234
THE JUDGMENT OP DUNGARA
I
Nala, D / child. The Collector will be here and be
painod.'
The Collector, his wife, and Gallio climbed the hill
to the Mission-station. The converts were drawn up in
two lines, a shining band nearly forty strong. ' Hah ! '
said the Collector, whose acquisitive bent of mind led
him to believe that he had fostered the institution from
the first. ' Advancing, I see, by leaps and bounds.'
Never was truer word spoken I The Mission was
advancing exactly as he had said — at firat by little
hops and shuflSes of shamefaced uneasiness, but soon by
the leaps of flynatung horses and the bounds of mad-
dened kangaroos. From the hill of Panth the Red
Elephant Tusk delivered a dry and anguished blare.
The ranks of the converts wavered, broke and scattered
with yells and shrieks of pain, while Justus and Lotta
stood horror-stricken.
' It is the Judgment of Dungara I ' shouted a voice.
* I burn I I burn I To the river or we die I '
The mob wheeled and headed for the rocks that over-
hung the Berbulda, writhing, stamping, twisting and
shedding its garments as it ran, pursued by the ^.hunder
of the trumpet of Dungara. Justus and Lotta fled to
the Collector almost in tears.
*I cannot understand! Yesterday,' panted Justus,
*they had the Ten Commandments. — What is this?
Praise the Lord all good spirits by land and by sea.
Nala I Oh, shame I '
With a bound and a scream there alighted on the
rocks above their heads, Nala, once the pride of the
Mission, a maiden of fourteen summers, good, docile,
and virtuous — now naked as the dawn and spitting like
a wiiU'cat.
ij/ (
re and be
d the hill
awn up in
. 'Hah!'
mind led
ition from
luds.'
ssion was
> by little
it soon by
3 of mad-
the Red
led blare.
scattered
^nd Lotta
I a voice.
bhat over-
iting and
I ^jhunder
>ta fled to
L Justus,
is this?
I by sea.
i on the
B of the
I, docile,
ting like
THE JUDGMENT OP DUNGARA 235
' Was it for this I ' she raved, hurling her petticoat at
Justus; 'was it for this I left my people and Dungara
-for the fires of your Bad Place? Blind ape, little
earthworm, dried fish that you are, you said that I
should never burn ! O Dungara, I burn now I I
burn now! Have mercy, God of Things as They
She turned and flung herself into the Berbulda, and
the trumpet of Dungara bellowed jubilantly. The last
of the converts of the Tubingen Mission had put a
quarter of a mile of rapid river between herself and her
teachers.
A ' J®^*®^^*^'' gulped Justus, 'she taught in the school
A, B, C, D. — Oh ! It is the work of Satan ! '
But Gallio was curiously regarding the maiden's
petticoat where it had fallen at his feet. He felt its
texture, drew back his shirtsleeve beyond the deep
tan of his wrist and pressed a fold of the cloth against
the flesh. A blotch of angry red rose on the white
skm.
' Ah! ' said Gallio calmly, ' I thought so '
'What is it? 'said Justus.
'I should call it the Shirt of Nessus, but — Where
did you get the fibre of this cloth from ? '
'Athon Daz6,' said Justus. 'He showed the boys
how it should manufactured be.'
♦ The old fox ! Do you know that he has given you
the Nilgiri Nettle— scorpion— Girardenia heterophylla
— to work up? No wonder they squirmed! Why, it
stings even when they make bridge-ropes of it, unless
It's soaked for six weeks. The cunning brute ! It
would f,ak« aHnnf \\n^f Q»% 1^-^— 4-- 1 -t , , .
,,..^,.i„ xitsxi an noui tu uum inrough theii*
thick hides, and then 1 '
236
THE JUDGMENT OP DUNOARA
Gallic burst intp laughter, but Lotta was seeping in
the arms of the Collector's wife, and Justus had cov-
ered his face with his hands.
* (Hrardenia heterophylla I ' repeated GaUio. ' Krenk,
why didn't you tell me? I could have saved you this.
Woven fire ! Anybody but a naked Kol would have
known it, and, if I'm a judge of their ways, you'll never
get them back.'
He looked across the river to where the converts
were still wallowing and wailing in the shallows, and
the laughter died out of his eyes, for he saw that the
Tubingen Mission to the Buria Kol was dead.
Never again, though they hung mournfully round the
deserted school for three months, couid Lr tta or Justus
coax back even the most promising of their flock. Nvi !
The end of conversion was the fire of the Bad Place --
fire that ran through the limbs and gnawed into the
bones. Who dare a second time tempt the anger of
Dungara? Let the little man and his wife go else-
where. The Buria Kol would have none of them. An
unofficial message to Athon Daz^ that if a hair of
their heads were touched, Athon Daz^ and the priests
of Dungara would be hanged by Galiio at the tem-
ple shrine, protected Justus and Lotta from the stumpy
poisoned arrows of the Buria Kol, but neither fish nor
fowl, honeycomb, salt nor young pig were brought to
their doors any more. And, alas I man cannot live by
grace alone if meat be wanting.
*Let us go, mine wife,' said Justus; * there is no
good here, and the Lord has willed that some other
man shaU the work take — in good time — in His own
good time. We will go away, and I will — yes — some
botanv bestndv.'
eepmg in
had cov-
*Krenk,
you this,
uld have
I'lI never
THE JUDGMENT OF DUNOABA 237
the" "^esr iiTt":: T"'* '"^ ^"'^ ^o' •^-h.
since faUan backlt t^lt^^ ""' '°'°'" ""^^ '»"»
converts
ows, and
that the
)und the
r Justus
ik. No I
Place - -
into the
mger of
go else-
m. An
hair of
I priests
he tem-
stumpy
fish nor
ught to
live by
s is no
e other
[is own
— some
AT HOWLI THANA
Hifl own ahoe, his own head, — Native Proverb.
As a messenger, if the heart of the Presence be
lOved to so great favour. And on six rupees.
Yes, Sahib, for I have three little little children whose
stomachs are alwayb empty, ai.d corn is now but forty
pounds to the rupee. I will make so clever a messen-
ger that you shall all day long be pleased with me, and,
at the end of the year, bestow a turban. I know all
the roads of the Station and many other things. Aha,
Sahib I I am clever. Give me service. I was afore-
time in the Police. A bad character? Now without
doubt an enemy has told this tale. Never was I a
scamp. I am a man o^ clean heart, and all my words
are true. They knew this when I was in the Police.
They said : ' Axzal Khau is a true speaker in whose
words men may trust.' I am a Delhi Pathan, Sahib —
all Delhi Pathans are good men. You have seen Delhi ?
Yes, it is true that there be many scamps among the
Delhi Pathans. How wise is the Sahib ! Nothing io
hid from his eyes, and he will make me his messenger,
and I will take all his notes secretly and without osten-
tation. Nay, Sahib, God is my witness that I meant
no evil. I have long desired to serve under a true
Sahib — a virtuous Sahib. Many young Sahibs are as
devils unchained. With th
288
1 •!_
vSv oaniuS 1 wOuici ta.^0 no
. U x-1-
)S are as
take no
AT HOWII THAKA 239
service-not though all the stomachs of mv Htfl, K-,
dren were crying for bread ^ ""^ '='"'■
tar^ATe^inirto^th^T?''"' ' ^"' ^P-'' »-
Havildar, and mZI Ball 7^ ^'"" ^''''«'>' *h«
Bhim Singh and Su™i M r"'"'/,''*^^"* ^'"» ""d
for a spact and sf S "1^X1^" '^ ^ '"« ^•''"
^o;f:^i^:r^^^^^^^^^^^
all brave men -Rustums. WherefLp 1 "^^'^
no further touble It r "it T'"^ *'''^' ^« ™^de
can a man dot! hX" ""l^theThT . '''''*
stronff—ishe P..ar. ,• "^ . ^ Sahib who is so
an f ir-;:^rsrtKe :^;r
Tiiat was the work of ih^. Wa -i^ . °^ P®^^^-
w.^ r c u-i. , . ^^® Havildar who was faf w« f
Ho I Sahib, he is now getting thin in thl i '
carpets. The Havildfr saM : ^Gi^e us no ' '^.'^ *'''
we will give you no trouble. AtT Ld of t^ ^^^
mg send us a man to lead before tt / ""'^P-
infirm mind ae-ain^f- wt! I J""^^^' ^ ^^^ of
break down S l-H trumped-up case will
foil XI, , -^^"^ we shall save our honour ' T« ^i.-
talk the dacoits agreed, and we had noTouble 't ..''
Tbana, and could eat melons in peace sLw ^^
charpoys all dav loner q ^ ^ ' *^^^ ^P°^ our
melons of HowH. ^* """"' "' '"^^^"^^^^ ^^^ the
Now there was an assistant commissioner « ^f, *
Sahib, m that district, called Yunkum ^17 .^''*
He was hard ^hard e^n asis rhT'T/^t _.^^^^
^ouot, Will giye me the shadow TAY '^'0^^
240
AT HOWLI THANA
Many eyes had Yunkum Sahib, and moved quickly
through his district. Men called him The Tiger of
Gokral-Seotarun, because he would arrive unannounced
and make his kill, and, before sunset, would be giving
trouble to the Tehsildars tliirty miles away. No one
krew the comings or the goings of Yunkum Sahib.
He had no camp, and when his horse was weary he
rode upon a devil-carriage. I do not know its name,
but the Sahib sat in the midst of three silver wheels
that made no creaking, and drave them with his legs,
prancing like a bean-fed horse — thus. A shadow of a
hawk upon the fields was not more without noise than
the devil-carriage of Yunkum Sahib. It was here: it
was there: it was gone: and the rapport was made,
and there was trouble. Ask the Tehsildar of Rohestri
how the hen-stealing came to be known. Sahib.
It fell upon a night that we of the Thana slept
according to custom upon our charpoys, having eaten
the evening meal and drunk tobacco. When we awoke
in the mornmg, behold, of our six rifles not one re-
mained I Also, the big Police-book that was in the
Havildar's charge was gone. Seeing these things, we
were very much afraU, thinking on our parts that the
dacoits, regardless of honour, had^ come by night, and
put us to shame. Then said Ram Baksh, the Havildar:
* Be silent I The business is an evil business, but it
°^y yet go well. Let us make the case complete.
Bring a kid and my tulwar. See you not now, O fools?
A kick for a horse, but a word is enough for a man.'
We of the Thana, perceiving quickly what was in
the mind of the Havildar, and greatly fearing that the
service would be lost, made haste to take the kid into
the inner room, and attended to the words of the Hav-
quickly
riger of
nounced
•e giving
No one
a Sahib.
reary he
ts name,
: wheels
bis legs,
low of a
lise than
here: it
.s made,
Rohestri
la slept
ig eaten
B awoke
one re-
1 in the
ngs, we
that the
fht, and
ivildar:
, but it
•mplete.
) fools?
lan.'
was in
hat the
id into
le Hav-
AT HOWLI THANA ^41
wf I;kinrhr'' ^T''' ''"^''' «^^^ *^« Havildar, and
cus^o n ?Th ' ''^'^'"^ "^*^^ ^^^ according o
'and oi u. ""'"" ' ^'^^* ^^*^*'' «^id the HavUdar
window z::czrT ^tr- ^^'^ ^- ^^^
and, O .en, ^, 1^'^y^^Z^ ^ '''' '^
in the b;'": ^he ti r aS' I f ^'^^^^ ^^^^«
and the ffoat was «!«,•« „ a " . *^" ^^ tue Ihana,
forearm in tho fnf a«^ ^i iigntiy on the
on the ba^k h eh" d t'^ T uV^^' ^°'* ^ *'"'''
till the blood car^e ; and S Bui '' "'*' "" "* ™
the others, took out u^uch hS O 'sah°lb nf *''"
earth. oreaking and blood and trampled
ho^^'tX'sw's^S' ' "'' ^''^ """^'J*'' 't° the
dacoity Do you aUo o ^f ,T7 *'^ ''^'^^ "* '^^
take heed that^youte ltd f""'™ "'^™' ^°<1
your lu.con.„/»rbrd tmt 'ZVt ^1^
^ - »tay and .„d a straight reporVto-'Ii^Di;;
342
AT HOWLI THANA
Sahib, and we will :iatch certain that ye know of, villa-
gers, 80 that all may be ready against the Dipty Sahib's
arrival.'
Thus Maula Baksh rode and I ran hanging on the
stirrup, and together we came in an evil plight before
The Tiger of Gokral-Seetarun in the Rohestri tehsil.
Our tale was long and correct. Sahib, for wo gave even
the names of the dacoits and the issue of the fight and
besought him to come. But The Tiger made no sign,
and only smiled after the manner of Sahibs when they
have a wickedness in their hearts. ' Swear yo to the
rapport ? ' said he, and wo said : ' Thy servants swear.
The blood of the fight is but newly dry upon us.
Judge thou if it be the blood of the servants of the
Presence, or not.' And he said : » I see. Ye have
done well.' But he did not call for his horse or his
devil-carriage, and scour the land as was his custom.
He said : ' Rest now and eat bread, for ye be wearied
men. I will wait the coming of the Dipty Sahib.'
Now it is the order that the Havildar of the Thana
should send a straight report of all dacoities to the
Dipty Sahib. At noon came he, a fat man and an old,
and overbearing withal, but we of the Thana had no
fear of his anger ; dreading more the silences of The
Tiger of Gokral-Seetarun. With him came Ram
Baksh, the Havildar, and the others, guarding ten men
of the village of Howli — all men evil affected towards
the Police of the Sirkar. As prisoners they came, the
irons upon their hands, crying for mercy — Imam
Baksh, the farmer, who had denied his wife to the
Havildar, and others, ill-conditioned rascals against
whom we of the Thana bore spite. It was well done,
and the Havildar was proud. But the Dipty Sahib
of, villa-
j Sahib's
X on the
it before
•i tehsil.
ive even
ght and
no sign,
len they
to the
3 swear,
pon us.
\ of the
iTe have
e or his
custom,
wearied
Lb.'
) Thana
to the
L an old,
had no
of The
le Ram
ben men
towards
ime, the
— Imam
to the
against
U done,
Y Sahib
■AT HOWLI THANA
«n< e«oU«d the HaviCv.:, f^^htf ^"^"^
nis long chair. • Have fh„ „"*""" ^«^'^ % stiU in
S"'"". 'Aye. and can ' edtrrM "'" ^""'""»
D'ptySttI,ib. 'Theui! ! •*" «v,ldoer»,' said the
Take horse -ride ;, ' ,'7, ""^-J '" ^^r charge
'Truly there be mo." !^, *''' T'" °' ""^ SirkaH
S«Wb,. but there r^o air "''""'''' «''''' bunkum
with me.' '"<>^-'^ of a horse. Come all men
I saw the mark nf » .» •
Baksh. Does the Presence^"" ^V^^P'*" "* I"""
Cold Draw? I sat 1 "' ""T *''« '"rture of the
«okral-Seetarun,X :';„ 1^""'' "^ ^he Tiger 'tf
stood back ready for whit Tt , f "P™ '»• ""'l I
Sahib, that I did thMhfn "t ^'*"- ^"^ '' *'■«.
fhe door of his bath-room and .""^ ^^^"^ ""'"^''^O
lay the six rifles and tZ bL P„l f ' ™'^- "»^i""»
of Howli I He had come bS n°t":^} "^ "•« Thana
that is noiseless as a ghoul * ^ '" *' <'«"l.oarriage
asleep, had taken awaytoth'thf """"^ "'"""S "^
Twice had he come tTthe Th ^™, '""^ '''^ '«'°ki
three rifles. The liver of he »!"•.. "^ ''"'' "»«
water, and he fell scrihw; "avildar was turned to
of Vunkum SahT . e W- /"f « •»-' about the booL
And I? Sahih T ^^ *™ "»"y-' '
-anwithlitfl f bill:: "Th^'n^t'"'"'"'' » yo™?
the compound. I ran to'), ^''^ "avildar's mare was in
of the ^rkar was Chindtra'd"l V ''^ "^^'^ ^^^
to go. Till she drooned -.Ta'a^ } ""' °°t whither
and by the blessi^^f q*"/ *''* ^ ""J" the red mare ,•
the side of all justlen J^l "."^ r*"""" ^oubt on
-"V. wie resfc are now in jail. "'~ ""' ""^ wavildar
»
!jir
244
AT HOWLI THANA
I am a scamp? It is as the Presence pleases. God
will make the Presence a Lord, and give him a rich
Memmhih as fair as a Peri to wife, and many strong
sons, if he makes me his orderly. The Mercy of Heaven
be upon the Sahib I Yes, I will only go to the bazar
and bring my children to these so-palace-like quar-
ters, and then — the Presence is my Father and mv
Mother, and I, Afzal Khan, am his slave.
Ohe, Sirdar-ji! I also am of the household of the
Sahib.
M
\ 1
81 P
368. God
im a rich
ly strong
>f Heaven
the bazar
ke quar-
and my
■d of the
GEMINI
lie. -t^J^S^ °^ ^^ W^ite Man.gr.^.r the power of a
Jrat^^rbat/tyr^^ ^^^^^^ of the Poor.
sticks^heaVsteVr laTa"'"' "^ ^^*- -*^
no justice in Courte P°'' °^*°' ^^^ *here is
There were two of ns ««/?
birth, but I swear to yoHutT T' ""^ "^ <>°«
astrologer said so.Cd Tu 1^''' ■^"" "'«"«»• The
the ho^scope of Durgl D^,'^'^" "" "^ horoscope-
But we were alike — I .„,] ™„ ., ..
beast without honour _ so aUkef), f'' ^'"' » "
gether or apart, which wmDnrl n ''T ^'"^' *°-
m of Pali L Marwar a^^an J.^ f"'' ^ """ " ^aha-
talk. When we JI« ^en 1 . T ""'°- ^hisistrue
Pali, and went toX p2l 'f °»^«»a»'s house in
■nud-heads and sons ^^^'''1^7 f «>« P-P'e are
Isser Jang -I and mTh .?^^ *""'' '"""P together in
where the^ Gove'or's ^^^'t '' ~ ™" ""« ""^ ^«U
Dass, who is without tr^r^.r""' '"'*°^- «"* Ka"
we were divided He C' .? t 1""™' ^'* ""' ■»<»
bis Mark, and beoa™ TLn^at^'"^ '," P"**' """
the long street of Wjanrne';;;tr°.T '"''"- ^
road thateoes to M„„^ .3 °f ' ™ gateway of the
we pulled-each otier'stoS" "a^^ m l"^ ^*"" ««"
m "• * **'^i"n of Pali,
246
GEMINI
Now no man, not even the little children, could at
one glance see which was Ram Dass and which was
DurgaDass But all the people of Isser Jang-may
they die without sons I -said that we we.^ thieves
They used much bad talk, bat I took money on thS
bedsteads and the.r cooking-pota and the standing oZ
the gate of the Montgomery road. They were fools,
rem Zfrr^' *" ""' *« *<•«-"» 'f '^ Marwari
tremPali. I lent mopey to them all. A little, very
httie only-here a pice and there a pice. God is Z
wjtue^ that I am a poor man I The money is aU
with Ram Dass- may his sons turn Christian, and his
daughter be a burning fire and a shame in the hou^
fnd bfr .? *° f "^™*'»°' May she die unwed,
and be the mother of a multitude of bastards I Let the
hght go out m the house of Ram Dass, my brether.
TLs'tZ f^'ly t'™"--* offerings and charms.
Thus the trouble began. We divided the town of
aTndrS r° If - 1 ""-i "y brother. There was
a andholder beyond the gates, living but one short
mile out, on the road that leads to Montgomeiy, and
h« name was Muhammad Shah, son of aNawab He
was a great devil and drank wine. So long as there
were women m his house, and wine and money for th!
Ram Di^s lent him the money, a lakh or half a lakh-
*ri i^l'"'''""™'* ™ '""g ^ *« "oney was lent,
the landholder cared not what he signed.
1 ^\f"^^^f ^'""' "^""g '^"'^ "y portion, aud the
landholder and the out-town was the n„rti„„ „f p!^
GEMINI
2i7
*d what I could. butRam T? ^T ^^'^'"'i wealth, i
out the door of the j^.^ V^- '"' ""'y *» ^"i* with-
'«"<! him the mot; ^^f;:^ frde„.oourt. and t
of the steward. ^ ""^^ *« '»'"'« f^m the hand
B^: ^drtriirde?%r ''- •-^'"^' «^-
the landholder gave him abuse "8^ 7 "'^"^^•' ''"'
wto the Courts Tvith thp ^ ^'"" °^ went
correct-and toorlut dtoS''' *■"* ""^ '"""^-'"l
and the name of the GoveZent ^'™* '^' '""dholder;
of the decides. Earn DaTto„VT ??~^ *'«> ^temps
">a«go.tree by mang"trfe J t " '^ "^ ^'''*' """
■nhisownmen-debtor^f ^ " ^^ "'«"•• P"Wins
-to cultivate the croo^ "'i^^'"'^'"'^" °* ^»»«' ^4
'^d. for he had the p^j, !nd thr^' "^ ""^^ »h?
emment was across the^sto^^ m T" "^ "'^ ®»^-
craps for him on aU sides of Th!V l" "'° ^^'^ the
andholder. It ,,3 weU done . 17 t '°T °' *"
holder saw these things he Z. t ^^'^ **« ^an*
Bam Dass aft«r the mSne, Tth^Z T^ "^ °™«1
And thus the landholT Muharamadans.
laughed and claim Td tl™ /u ""'''' '^"' «"- D*'''
the bonds. This::^rthem1nnTH"^'"^""P°°
my horse and went out to 1??? f '*«^°- ^ took
lac-bangles upon the "lid Zt , f' ""*° '^'•° """^^^
hcoanse he owed me a Tbt -^I. '"* *" Montgomery,
upon his ho»e, my broker fif n"^ '" '«"" "^ 4
«aw me. he tu^ed STu^ 1 r. ''''' ^"""^ '«'
here was hatred between Z Ind t'^ "T' '«°''""''
ioan>e to the oran^.h,,...?;..^."''.^ ^^"t forward tffl
- hats were flyi^.«-rS.e-—-M^^^^^^
248
GEMINI
h .
t' I
m
do™ upon the^land. Here met me four men-swash,
bucklers and MuWadans-^th their faces bound
up laymg hold of my horse's bridle and crying out:
ZeT't" T' ^r"' M^l'^y beat with their
staves -he..vy staves bound about with wire at the
end, suoh weapons as those swine of Punjabis use-
td^ having cned for mercy, I fell down senseless. But
these shameless ones still beat me, saying: 'O Ram
Dass, th« .3 your interest- weU weighed and counted
.nto your hand Ram Dass.' I cried aloud that I was
not Ram Dass but Durga Dass, his brother, yet they
only beat me the more, and when I could make no
?r/""'T,*i'^.'f^' ""'■ ^"' I ^^ their faces.
There was Elah. Baksh who runs by the side of the
landholder s white horse, and Nur ^ li the keeper of the
door and Wajib AU the very strong cook, a^ Abdul
La^f the messenger -aU of the household of the land-
nolder. These things I can swear on the Cow's Tail
sw^r •'f'/"'-^' ^'^■~^' bas been already
m^' ""^ ^ *■» a poor man whose honour is lost.
TtZn *""' ^ »°°' away laughing, my brother
Ram Dass came out of the crops and moulded over me
as one dead. But I opened my eyes, and prayed him
to get me water. When I had drunk, he carried me on
ais back, and by byways brought me into the town of
laser Jang. My heart was turned to Ram Dass, my
brother, m that hour, because of Us kindness fid I
lost my enmity.
U.^1^»T^t '! * "^•" ™ '' ^ ^''^' »"d a i:*.'- is a
liar tiU the Judgment of the Gods takes hoi ' of his
heel. I was wrong in that I trusted my brother -the
son of my mother.
When we had come to his house and I w»» « i:»ifl
GEMINI
249
^Stored r told him my tale, and he said: 'Without
Mw Courts are open, and there is the Justice of Z
wherth^' f ' ""^ *" *"« ^''^ Courts iToi go
when this sickness is overpast.' ^
tl.»™T,7^? "' *'^" ''^^ '«*' P»« in the old yeara
about ZT:- 7 f *^1"'^"l between us twam came
vnth the beatmg,and much bruised even to the pouring
of blood from th. mouth. When I had two days" S
ness the fever cam. upon me ; and I set aside the f^ver
to tte account written in my mind agamst the Zl
» J""' T""^"*''? "* ^^^ •^^''S »"•« »« the sons of Belial
^stimontr ^t*7 ^" ''^ ^'^ witnesses bea^'g
testimony unshakingly whatever the pleaders mavsav
shluld jr "; ^'^""^ "^ "^^ ^ -■ -d eaoh^ S
7r A vf T x*"''*""'^' °°* ^"'y against Nur Ali, Waiib
Ah Abdul Latif and Elahi Baksh, but ...-.insme land
holder, saying that he upon his wiite hoChad clued"
his men to beat me; and, further, that they had robW
me of two hundred rupees. For the latter testiW
I would remit a little of the debt of i„> man whHoW
money into my hands, and had sfiAn fJ^- «^uu„:_ r_
atar, but, being afraid, had run
'■■^■tjuxsi.y iium
aw&y. This plan I tol4
?fVi
260
6EMIXI
to my brothei- Ram Dass ; and he said that iho arran e-
ment was good, and bade me take comfort and make
swift work to be abroad again. My heart was opened
to my brother in my sUkness, a x i I told him the names
of those whom I would call as witnesses -- all merj in
my debt, but of that the Magim^te Sabib ^^ould have
no knowledge, nor the landholder, T1-. fever stj.yed
^ith -e, and after the fever, I was taken whh colic,
and grip, ogv veij trjoble. In that day I thought that
my end ms ai, band, but I know now that she who
gave ma .ha meiicines, the sister of ray father — a
widow vnUi a widow's heart — had broiu/ht about my
second sickness. Ram Dass, my brother, ..aid that my
house was shut and locked, and brought me the big
door-key and my books, together with all the moneys
that were in my house — even the money that was
buned under the floor; for I was in great fear lest
thieves should break in and dig. I speak true talk;
there was but very little money in my house. Perhaps
ten rupees — perhaps twenty. How can I tell? God
is my witness that I am a poor man.
One night, when I had told Ram Dass all that was in
my heart of the lawsuit that I would bring against the
landholder, and Ram Dass had said that he had made
the arrangements with the witnesses, giving me their
names written, I was taken with a new great sickness
and they put me on the bed. When I was -^ Uttle re-
covered— I cannot tell how many days af vards— I
made enquiry for Ram Dass, and the sister .. ^iy father
said that he I >■' gone to Montgomt. :.:... ,i a lawsuit.
I took medicit nd slept very heavily -liriout waking.
When my eyes were opened, there was a ■ oat stillness
m the house pf Ram Dass, and none aiiSM^ - etl when I
id make
opened
e names
men in
Id have
' sthyed
>h colic,
fht that
he who
iher — a
•out my
hat my
the big
moneys
lat was
lar lest
e talk;
!*erhaps
? God
was in
ast the
I made
e their
ckness,
btle re-
'ds—I
father
iwsuit.
'aking.
illness
rhen I
GEMINI
261
called --not even the sister of my father. This filled
me with fear, for I knew not what had happened.
Taking a stick in my hand, I went out slowly, till I
came to the great square by the well, and my heait was
hot m me against the landholder because of the pain of
every step I took. ^
I called for Jowar Singh, the carpenter, whose
name was fii.t upon the list of those who should
bear evidence against the landholder, saying: 'Are
all^tlungs ready, and do you know what should be
Jowar Singh answered: » What is this, and whence
do you come, Durga Dass ? '
I said: 'From my bed, where I have so long lain
sick because of the landholder. Where is Ram Dass,
Z tt .'' '/ c '' ^"^^ "^^^^ *^« arrangemen
Then Jowar Singh said: 'What has this to do with
A i J , ^^""^ ^''''^ ^^*°^ss and I have been
paid, and the landholder has, by the order of the Court
paid both the five hundred rupees that he robbed from
Ram Dass and yet other five hundred because of the
great injury he did to your brother.'
The well and the jujube-tree above it and the square
of Isser Jang became dark in my eyes, but I leaned on
my stick and said: 'Nay! This is child's talk and
^dholder, and I am come to make ready the case.
Where is my brother Ram Dass?'
But Jowar Singh shook his head, and a woman cried:
*Whathftis horo9 wru^4. i i ,
«„vi> 7 ~" ' """"" 4"«"oi haa tiie landholder
with you, bmma f It is only a shameless one and one
m
<mmm
a
^^f ^^ ^ho Profite by his brother's smarts. Have
these bitnmas no bowels?'
I cried again saying: 'By the Cow-by the Oath
dL ? r> *^ ^""P'" "^ *« Blue-throated Maha-
deo, I and I only was beaten _ beaten to the death I
Let your talk be straight, O people of Isser Jang, and
stnni r\^' "l" ^''™^»^''-' And I tottered where I
stood, for the siekness and the pain of the beating were
neavy upon me. ^
rt Jlir,,^.'" ^'"^'"' ''''° ^^ ^^ «"P«t spread under
the jujube t^e by the well, and writes all letters for the
men of the town came up and said : • To-day is the
TdT™ the"* t" f " ^"^ '"^«"^' -^ -- 'hi
Zfstent Po"''' "^ been judged in the Court, and the
Assistant Commissioner Sahib has given it for your
bother Ram Dass, allowing the robteiy, to which,^
I bore witness, and all things else as the witnesses saW
rhere were many witnesses, and twice Ram Dass became
Stunt Sahib- the baia Stunt Sahib-gare him a chair
^forc all the pleaders. Why do you howl, DurgL
D^? These things fell as I have said, wi it nft
And Jowar Singh said: 'That is truth. I was
there, and there was a red cushion in the chair.'
fh„ f ^rJ^T" '"'•' '■ ' '^'■"'* '^^'^^ bas come upon
the landholder because of this judgment, and fU
mghjs anger. Ram Doas and all his house have gon"
^t 1 f^u ''*""'"* "' *'«'' y»" "'»» ^ go-
first, the enmity being healed between you, to open a
shop ,„ Pali. Indeed, it were well for yo^u tLat yTu "o
even now, for the landholder has sworn that if he catfh
any one o. your house, he wiU hang him by the heels
I
'«
GEMINI
263
from the well-beam, and, swinging him to and fro, will
beat him with staves till the blood runs from his ears.
What I have said in respect to the case is true, as these
men here can testify - even to the five hundred rupees.'
^ I said : ' Was it five hundred ? ' And Kirpa Ram, the
^a^, said: 'Five hundred; for I bore witness also.'
And I groaned, for it had been in my heart to have
said two hundred only.
Then a new fear came upon me and my bowels
turned to water, and, running swiftly to the house of
Ram Dass, I sought for my books and my money in
the great wooden chest under my bedstead. There
remained nothing: not even a cowrie's value. All »>ad
been taken by the devil who said he was my brother.
1 went to my own house also and opened the boards of
the shutters; but there also was nothing save the rats
among the grain-baskets. In that hour my senses left
me, and, tearing my clothes, I ran to the weU-place, crv-
mg out for the Justice of the English on my brother
Kam Dass, and, in my >>iadness, telling all that the
books were lost. When men saw that I would have
jumped down the well, they believed the truth of my
talk; more especially because upon my back and horum
were still the marks of the staves of the landholder
Jowar Singh the carpenter withstood me, and turn-
ing me in his hands -for he is a veiy strong man-
showed the scars upon my body, and bowed down with
laughter upon the well-curb. He cried aloud so that
all hea:d ,nm, from the well-square to the Caravanserai
of the . .Igrims : ' Oho ! The jackals have quarrelled,
and the gray one has been caught in the trap. In
trutn, this man has been DriflvnnfliTr k«„<.„^ ,j^j r-
brothc- has taken the money which the Court decreedl
_/.^^^'4
264
JEMINI
:ii
Oh, bunnia (Ui^ shall be told for years against you I
The jackpJ:, have quarrelled, and, moreover, the books
are burnel O people indebted to Durga Dass — and I
know that ye be many — the ^-^\ rre burned I '
Then ail Isser Jang touk up the cry that the books
were hmned — Ahif Ahi! that in my folly I had let
that escape my mouth— and they laughed throughout
the city. They gave me the abuse of the Punjabi,
which is a terrible abuse and very hot; pelting me also
With sticks and cow-dung till I fell down and cried for
mc rcy.
Ram Narain, the letter-writer, bade the people cease,
for fear that the nfews should get into Montgomery, and
the Policemen might come down to enquire. H*. daid,
using many bad words : ' This much mercy will I do to
70U, Durgd, Dass, though there was no mercy in your
dealings with my sister's son over the matter of the
dun heifer. Has any man a pony on w^inh he sets no
store, that this fellow may escape ? Tf the landholder
hears that one of the twain and God knows whether
he beat one t ^»oth, \\xt th man is certainly beaten)
be in the city, there will be a murder done, and then
will come the Palace, making inquisition into each
man's house and eating the sw^et-seller's stutf all dav
long.' ^
Kirpa Ram, the jat, said : * I have a pony very sick.
But with beating he can I la to walk foi two miles.
If he dies, the h.ie-seller 41 we the body.'
Then Chumbo, the hide-aeller, said : ' I wiP ay three
annas for the body, and will walk by this man's side till
such time as the pony dies. If it be more than two
miles, I will pay two annas only.'
Kirpa Ram, said ; * Be it so.' Me" ^'
ViVfU
rJl^i- <...!. ^1.
is'
UUu uliU
GEMINI
255
pony, and I asked leave to draw a little water from the
well, because I was dried up with fear.
Then Ram Narain said: ' Here be four annas. God
has brought you very low, Durga Dass, and I would not
send you away empty, even though the matter of mv
sisters son's dun heifer be an open sore between us.
It is a loiig way to your own country. Go, and if it be
so willed, live; but, ^ove all, do not take the pony's
bridle, for that is mine.' ^ ^
And I went out of laser Jang, amid the laughing of
the huge-thighed Jats, and the hide-seller walked by
my side waiting for the pony to fall dead. In one mile
it died, and being full of fear of the landholder, I ran
till 1 could run no more and came to this place.
But I swear by the Cow, I sweai- by all things
whereon Hindus and Musalmans, a,xd even the Sahibs
swear, that I, and not my brother, was beaten by the
lar 'holder. But the case is shut and the doors of the
La^. Courts are shut, and God knows where the haha
Stunt Sahib --the mother's milk is not yet dry upon
his hairless lip -is gone. Ahi! Ahi! I have no
witnesses, and the scars will heal, and I ar- a noor man
But, on my Father's Soul, on the oath of a^ llahajun
1 ?i i^i'' : ^""^ °°* ^^ ^'^*^^^' I ™ beaku by the
landholder ! ■^
What can I do ? The Jusfice of the English is as a
great nver. Having gone forward, it does not return.
Howbeit do you. Sahib, take a T.en and write clearly
what I have said, that the Dipty Sahib may see, and
reprove the ^tunt Sahib, who is a colt yet unlicked by
the mare, so youag i. he. I, and not my brother, was
beaten, and he i . gone to the weaf-, — I A^ «ot kr-^
where. ' -- i ^^ ..ot J^nvw
256
GEMINI
But, above all things, write -so that Sahibs may
read, and his disgrace be accomplished — that Ram
Dass, my brother, 8on of Purun Dass, Mahajun of Pali
IS a swine and a night-thief, a taker of life, an eater of
flesh, a jackal-spawn without beauty, or faith, or clean-
linesb, or honour I
AT TWENTY-TWO
Narrow as the womb, deep as the Pit, and dark as the heart of
a man. — - Sonthal Minerva Proverb.
*A WEAVER went out to reap but stayed to unravel
the corn-stalks. Hal Ha! Hal Is there any sense
in a weaver?'
Janki Meah glared at Kundoo, but, as Janki Meah
was blind, Kundoo was not impressed. He had come
to argue with Janki Meah, and, if chance favoured, to
make love to the old man's pretty young wife.
This was Kundoo's grievance, and he spoke in the
name of all the five men who, with Janki Meah, com-
posed the gang in Number Seven gallery of Twenty-
Two. Janki Meah had been blind for the thirty years
during which he had served the Jimahari Collieries
with pick and crowbar. All through those thirty years
he had regularly, every morning before going down,
drawn from the overseer his allowance of lamp-oil —
just aa if he had been an eyed miner. What Kundoo's
gang resented, as hundreds of gangs had resented
before, was Janki Meah's selfishness. He would not
add the oil to the common stock of his gang, but would
save and sell it.
' I knew these workings before you were born,' Janki
Meah used to reply : ' I don't want the light to get my
coal out by, and I am not going to help you. The oil
if mine, and I intend to keep it.'
S 267
258
AT TWENTY-TWO
iarv
t>4
A strange man in many ways was Janki Meah, the
white-haired, hot-tempered, sightless weaver who had
turned pitman All day long^except on Sundays
and Mondays when he was usually drunk -he worked
m the Twenty Two shaft of the Jimahari Colliery as
cleverly as a man with all the senses. At evening he
went up in the great steam-hauled cage to the pit-bank,
beast, nearly as old as Janki Meah. The pony would
come to his side, and Janki Meah would clamber on to
Its back and be taken at once to the plot of land which
be, like the ether miners, received from the Jimahari
Company The pony knew that place, and when, after
SIX years the Company changed all the allotments to
Tnl M t '"'''''' ^''°' ^'^"^""^ proprietary rights,
Janki Meah represented, with tears in his eyes, tha
were his holding shifted, he would never be able to find
his way to the new one. ' My horse only knows that
place pleaded Janki Meah, and so he was allowed to
keep his land.
On the strength of this concession and his accumu-
lated oil-saymgs, Janki Meah took a second wife -a
giri of the Jolaha main stock of the Meahs, and singu-
larly beautiful. Janki Meah could not see her beauty :
wherefore he took her on trust, and forbade her to so
down the pit. He had not worked for thirty years
mthe dark without knowing that the pit was no place
for pretty women. He loaded her with ornaments -
not brass or pewter, but real silver ones -and she
rewarded him by flirting outrageously with Kundoo of
JVumber ^even gallery gang. Kundoo was reallv the
gang-head, but Janki Meah insisted upon all the work
being entered in his own nama ar^A ^u i-u ., ,
" — "'? '-"^ wiiwoc wiu iu" 1 mat
AT TWENTY-TWO
269
he worked with. Custom — stronger even than the
Jimahari Company — dictated that Janki, by right of
his years, should manage these things, and should, also,
work despite his blindness. In Indian mines where
they cut into the solid coal with the pick and clear it
out from floor to ceiling, he could come to no great
harm. At Home, where they undercut the coal and
bring it down in crashing avalanches from the roof, he
would never have been allowed to set foot in a pit.
He was not a popular man, because of his oil-savings ;
but all the gangs admitted that Janki knew all the
Mads, or workings, that had ever been sunk or worked
since the Jimahari Company first started operations on
the Taraohunda fields.
Pretty little Unda only knew that her old husband
was a fool who could be managed. She took no inter-
est in the collieries except in so far as they swallowed
up Kundoo five days out of the seven, and covered him
with coal-dust. Kundoo was a great workman, and did
his best not to get drunk, because, when he had saved
forty rupees, Unda was to steal everything that she
could find in Janki's house and run with Kundoo to a
land where there were no mines, and every one kept
three fat bullocks and a milch-buffalo. While this
scheme ripened it was his custom to cbop in upon Janki
and worry him about the oil-savings. Unda sat in a
corner and nodded approval. On the night when
Kundoo had quoted that objectionable proverb about
weavers, Janki grew angry.
* Listen, you pig,' said he, ' blind I am, and old I am,
but, before ever you were bcrn, I was gray among the
coal. Even in tho d^'^^a -nrVior. *-\^r^ t^,, — j... ti 77 ■»
-— — — — J.. ,, ,.._.ii t.ii^j JL wcujyj -X vvu icriaof,
was unsunk and there were not two thousand men here,
260
AT TWENTY-TWO
■11
' 3
I was known to have all knowledge of the pita. What
*W.s there that I do not know, from the botto?:
the shaft to the end of the last drive? Is it the Ba-
romba iAad, the oldest, or the Twenty-Two where
libu 8 gallery runs up to Number Five ' '
Unda. . No gallery of Twenty-Two will cut into five
More he end of the Rains. We have a month's soM
coal before us. The Babuji says so.'
'Babuji I Pigjii Dogjil What do these fat slugs
from Caleutta know? He draws and draws aS
draws and talks and talks and talks, and his maps
are all wrong. 1, Janki, know that this is so. When
a man has been shut up in the dark for thirty years,
God g„es him knowledge. The old gaUery tha
T.bus gang made is not six feet from Number Five.'
Without doubt God gives the blind knowledge,'
said Kundoo, with a look at Unda. ' Let it be as yoi
Ttu ' . "^ P""*' ^° ""' ^"'^ "^O'^" lies the gallery
of Tibu s gang, but I am not a withered monkey who
needs oil to grease his joints with.'
Kundoo swung out of the hut laughing, and Unda
giggled Janki turned his sightless eyes toward his
wife and swore. 'I have land, and I have sold a
great deal of lamp-oil,' mused Janki ;' but I was a
tool to marry this child.'
A week later the Rains set in with a vengeance, and
ihen the big mine-pumps were made ready, and tie
Manager of the CoUiery ploughed through the wet
towards the Tarachunda River swelling between ite
soppy banks 'Lord send that this beastly beck
doesnt misbehave,' said the Manager nin.jslv .„^ v..
3. What
)ottom of
the Ba-
'o where
dding to
nto Five
ih's solid
'at slugs
ws and
is maps
When
Y years,
fy that
r Five.'
;vledge,'
as you
gallery
ey who
I Unda
ard his
sold a
was a
36, and
banks,
id thd
e wet
en its
beck
AT TWENTY-TWO
261
went to take counsel with his Assistant about the
pumps.
But the Tarachunda misbehaved very much indeed.
After a fall of three inches of rain in an hour it was
obliged to do something. It topped its bank and
joined the flood water that was hemmed between two
low hills just where the embankment of the Colliery
main line crossed. When a large part of a rain-fed
river, and a few acres of flood-water, make a dead set
for a nine-foot culvert, the culvert may spout its finest,
but the water cannot all get out. The Manager
pranced upon one leg with excitement, and his lan-
guage was improper.
He had reason to swear, because he knew that one
inch of water on land meant a pressure of one hundred
tons to the acre ; and here were about five feet of water
forming, behind the railway embankment, over the
shallower workings of Twenty-Two. You must un-
derstand that, in a coal-mine, the coal nearest the
surface is worked first from the central shaft. That
is to sa3^, the miners may clear out the stuff to within
ten, twenty, or thirty feet of the surface, and, when
all is worked out, leave only a skin of earth upheld
by some few pillars of coal. In a deep mine where they
know that they have any amount of material at hand,
men prefer to get all their mineral out at one shaft,
rather than make a number of little holes tn tap the
comparatively unimportant surface-coal.
And the Manager watched the flood.
The culvert spouted a nine-foot gush ; but the water
still formed, and word was sent to clear the men out
of Tw3nty-Two. The cagas eame ud cr-ammprl and
crammed again with the men nearest the pit-eye, as
M^
m
AT TWENTY-TWO
they caJl the place where you can see daylight from the
bottom the main shaft. All away a/d !way up the
long black galleries the flare-Jamps were winW a„d
dancing hke so many fireflies, and the men and the
cages to come down and fly up again. But the out
workings were very far off, and word could not t
passed quickly, though the heads of the gangs and
stuifibled. The Manager kept one eye on the great
troubled pool behind the embankment, and prayed thai
the culvert would give way and let the water t^oul
n time. With the other eye he watched the ca^s
come up and saw the headmen counting the roU of
the gangs. With all his heart and souf he swore It
the winder who controlled the iron drum that wound
up the wire rope on which hung the cages.
beMnd the eT '^r ""'^ " ''°*»-d'aw in the water
behind the embankment -a sucking whirlpool aU
yellow and yeasty. The water had sfuashedZUh
the skin of the earth and was pouring into the dd S-
low workmgs of Twenty-Two.
Deep down below, a rush of black water caught the
last gang waiting for the cage, and as they clambered
xn, the whirl was about their waists. The cage re^hed
the pit-bank, and the Manager called the foil The
g7: rh?„^ '"T"''* ''^"^ '""'''' ''^''^ Mogul, and
t.ang Rahim, eighteen men, with perhaps ten baiikpt
rarif t^r ''" ""'•'»'» theLleC^arrtSs"
that ran on the tramways of the main gaUeries. These
ganp were in the out-workings, thrl-quarters f a
mito away, on the extreme fringe of the mine. Once
more the case went dnwn k.,* ,„:ii, -^, , _ "
AT TWENTY-TWO
263
men in it, and dropped into a swirling, roaring current
that had almost touched the roof of some of the lower
side-galleries. One of the wooden balks with which
they had propped the old workings shot past on the
current, just missing the cage.
' If we don't want our ribs knocked out, we'd better
go,' said the Manager. 'We can't even save the
Company's props.'
The cage drew out of the water with a splash, and
a few minutes later, it was officially reported that
there were at least ten feet of water in the pit's eye.
Now ten feet of water there meant that all other
places in the mine were flooded except such galleries
as were more than ten feet above the level of the
bottom of the shaft. The deep workings would be
full, the main galleries would be full, but in the high
workings reached by mclines from the main roads,
there would be a certain amount of air cut off, so to
speak, by the water and squeezed up by it. The little
science-primers explain how water behaves when you
pour it down test-tubes. The flooding of Twenty-
Two was an illustration on a large scale.
*********
' By the Holy Grove, what has happened to the air ! '
It was a Sonthal gangman of Gang Mogul in Number
Nine galle^^y, and he was driving a six-foot way
through Ihe cc.i. Then there was a rush from the
other ga.lor-p,s, and Gang Janki and Gang Rahim
stumbled <n with their basket- women.
' Water has come in the mine,' they said, * and there
is no way of getting out.'
' I went down,' s j,id Janki — ' down the slope of my
gallery, and I felt the water.'
II ' i
n 'h
i' I
r '■
1." '■
1 1
264
AT TWENTT-TWO
'There has been no water in the M.ft;.,™ •
clamoured the women. ' Why cino ^ °" ''""<
' Be silent I ' said Janki < T nn? J" """^y ^ '
was here, water came to Ten-T^S,:"^" "^ ^""'^
-er:^:ris^r-- - --t-rs
a gallerfthft tl iVnetwaU-lfno'' ^ ""l"*
used to smokfi ihad i ™'— a gaUery where they
Seeing Zl^ZllT, 'f """"'^^ '^'' ^''^^^
Mehaf, wS arft^^e bttlTMl'^ ""f^ '"'' *^«
to recoUeet the »ame of tt Propht The"'' '*™™
a great onen in.i!,™ „v '^^Pnet. They came to
befn extracted ^ It w!r "f"'^ '^ *"•« «»«! had
andtheeX'theLrnr *"' "'"' *'^ "ut-workings,
userCZe';:; 't'a 'r '-t P-P'»^-^ine.
^Sif::sF---^^--r^;
ful'lf Txw,""* °*^ *^ '*^^'"'' ^''d Kundoo hope.
women'' -7h '""'' '"""'"''* ''=^°^*' *">« Meah basket-
women. There .s a very bad air here because of the
' P"t "icm out,' said Janki : ' » h v ^„
AT TWENTY-TWO gfi''
rtteVTark ^ZlTT """* '^' """P'»y «" »'"' ^ «I
inrover tL T ""^^ ~' l^'^''^ '^'1 ^egan walk-
air'fve^JLr ''""''°- '«-<•'«-- die. The
feet. ^® ^^^^^ ^ose to their
calTsef a'ndT T "" . "^'''^^^ *^^ ^^-P« y-
tC I and I — I am always seeing,' said Janki
Then he paused, and caUed out- 'Oh von w/l
been in fy^^ „„4.x- * ^"' 7^^ who have
pwTot..^''M'' "^^^^^^d*^^ Sonthal who had com-
piamed of the vileness of the air
' Again,' said Janki.
*Bullia"sRoom.'
' Then I have found it,' said Janki ' T},.
onl^^had slipped ., .e.o.,. TibutgaJ^X;
the ledge." " -""^^^ ^ '"^^ ='""«'»' scrambled up
266
AT TWENTY-TWO
mi'
*4a
' Who?' cried Janki. ,
' I, Sunua Manji.*
♦ Sit you down,' said Janki. ' Who ne\t ? '
One by one the women and the men crawled up the
ledge which ran along one side of ' Bullia's Room.'
Degraded Muhammadan, pig-eating Musahr and wild
Sonthal, Janki ran his hand over them all.
'Now follow after,' said he, 'catching hold of my
heel, and the women catching the men's clothes.' He
did not ask whether the men had brought their picks
with them. A miner, black or white, does not drop
his pick. One by one, Janki leading they crept into
the old gallery—^ six-foot way with a scant four feet
from thill to roof.
' The air is better here,' said Jasoda. They could hear
her heart beating in thick, sick bumps.
' Slowly, slowly,' said Janki. ' I am an old man, and
I forget many things. This is Tibu's gallery, but where
are the four bricks where they used to put their huqa
fire on when the Sahibs never saw ? Slowly, slowly, O
you people behind.'
They heard his hands disturbing the small coal on
the floor of the gallery and then a dull sound. • This is
one unbaked brick, and this is another and another.
Kundoo is a young man — let him come forward. Put a
knee upon this brick and strike here. When Tibu's
gang were at dinner on the last day before the good
coal ended, they heard the men of Five on the other
side, and Five worked their gallery two Sundays later —
or it may have been one. Strike there, Kundoo, but
give me room to go back.'
Kundoo, doubting, drove the pick, but the first soft
crush of the coal was a call to him. He was fighting
AT TWENTT-TWO 267
for his life and for Dnda - pretty little Unda with rings
on all her toes -for Unda and the forty rupees. The
women sang the Song of the Pick - the terrible, slow!
h„T7 "tl^ r* *•■« "'""^'•«'' ohorus that repeate
Kundoo smote :n the black dark. When he could do
no more Sunua Manji took the pick, and struck for Z
hf and h.s w:fe, and his village beyond the blue hUh
ana then the women cleared away the coal
• ' V*i*'f ' "■*" ^ *''°"S'>''' ^''''i Janki- 'The air
IS very bad ; bnt strike, Kundoo, strike hard.'
For the fifth time Kundoo took up the pick as
the Sonthal crawled back. The song"^ had scared^
doo that echoed down the gallery: 'J>ar Aua.' Par
kua! We are through, we are through ! ' The imnris-
oned a.r in the mine shot through the open ng Cd
the women at the far end of the gallery heari the ;rtor
rush though the pilto of ■ BuUia's Room • andToa
agamst the ledge. Having fulfilled the law under
wmon It worted, it rose no farther. The women
screaked and pressed forward. ' The water ^ comT-
we shall be killed ! Let us go.' a«come —
Kundoo crawled through the gap and found himself
m a propped gallery by the simple process of hitting
his head against a beam. ''"ung
•Th?/-^ ■'"""^tho pits or do I not?' chuckled Janki.
This IS the Number Five ; go you out slowly, giv:
mg me your names. Ho! Rahim, count your gaLl
!!7J1T ^° ^»-"''' -^l" -'C'-g ""Old o'f tha^Zer
They formed a line in thr darkness and Janki led
^^K^'
268
AT TWENTT-TWO
IS '
r:!' 1
1^
:i|i
them— for a pit-man in a stran^ro pit is only one
degree less liable to err than an ordinary mortal
underground for the first time. At last thev saw a
flare-lamp, and Gangs Janki, Mogul, and Rahim of
Twenty-Two stumbled dazed into the glaio of the
draught-furnace at the bottom of Five ; Janki fe' ling
his way and the rest behind.
'Water has come into Twenty-Two. God knows
where a e the others. I have brought these men from
Tibu's gallery in our nitting , making connection
through the north side of the gallery. Take us to
the cage,' said Janki Meah.
♦♦«*«*♦♦*
At tho pH-bank of Twenty-Two, some thousand
people cfaraoured and wept and shouted. One hun-
dred meti - one thousand men — had been drowned in
the cuttiiig., They would all go to their homes to-
morrow. Where were their men? Little Unda, her
cloth drenched with the rain, stood at the pit-mouth
calling down the shaft for Kundoo. They had swung
the cages clear of the mouth, and her only ai swer was
the murmur of the flood in the pit's eye two hundred
and sixty feet below.
* Look after that woman I She'll chuck herself down
the shaft in a minute,' shouted the Manager.
But he need not have troubled ; Unda was afraid
of Death. She wanted Kundoo. The Assistant was
watching the flood and seeing how far he could wade
into it. There was a lull in the water, and the
whirlpool had slackened. The mine was full, and the
people at the pit-bank howled.
'My faith, we shall be lucky if we have five hundred
hands on the place to-morrow I ' said ^he Manager.
AT TWENTY-TWO
289
There s some chance yet of running a temporary dam
across that water. Shove in anything - tubs and bul-
lock-carts if you haven't enough bricks. Make them
work now if they never worke<^ before. Hi I vou
gangers, make them work.'
Little by little the crowd ^^ broken into detach-
ments, and pushed towards the water with promises of
overtime The dam-making began, and when it was
fan ly under way, the Manager thought that the hour
ha< 3ome for the pumps. There was no fresh inrush
into the mine. The tail, ro I, iron-clamped pump-beam
rose and fell and the pumps snored and guttered and
shrieked as the first water poured out of the pipe
' We must run her all to-night,' said the Manager
wearily, 'but there's no hope for the poor devils down
below. Look here, Gur Sahai, if you are proud of your
engines, show me what they ean do now.'
Gur Saliai grinned and nodded, with his right hand
upon the lever and an oil-can in his left. He could do
no more than he was doing, but he could keep that up
till the dawn. Were the Company's pumps to be beaten
by the vagaries of that troublesome Tarachunda River ?
Never, never I And the pumps sobbed and panted :
Never never !» The Manager sat in the shelter of
the pit-bank roofing, trying to dry himself by the
pump-boiler fire, and, in the dreary dusk, he saw the
crowds on the dam scatter and fly.
'That's the end,' he groaned. "Twill take us six
weeks to persuade 'em that we haven't tried to drown
GeordSr'' '''' ^'''^''''* ^^' ^''" ^ ^'''^*' "^*^^^^1
But the flight had no panu in it. Men had run over
trom Jive with astounding news, and the foremen could
1
•■-.■•/?
IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-S)
i//
^
1.0
1.1
£ Hi
£ ISi 12.0
125 111 1.4
IJ£
1.6
6"
FhotQgr^DiiJc
^Sciences
Corporation
23 WfST MAIN STRIIT
WIISnt,N.Y. 14SM
(716)172-4303
270
AT TWENIT-TWO
not hold their gangs together. Presently, surrounded
by a clamorous crew, Gangs Rahim, Mogul, and Janki,
and ten basket- women, walked up to report themselves,
and pretty little Unda stole away to Janki's hut to pre-
pare his evening meal.
' Alone I found the way,' explained Janki Meah, ' and
now will the Company give me pension ? •
The simple pit-folk shouted and leaped and went
back to the dam, reassured in their old belief that,
whatever happened, so great was the power of the
Company whose salt they ate, none of them could be
killed. But Gur Sahai only bared his white teeth and
kept his hand upon the lever and proved his pumps to
the uttermost.
i i
*I say,* said the Assistant to the Manager, a week
later, *do you recollect Germinal f ^
* Yes. 'Queer thing. I thought of it in the cage
when that balk went by. Why?'
* Oh, this business seems to be Germinal upside down.
Janki was in my veranda all this morning, telling me
that Kundoo had eloped with his wife — Unda or Anda,
I think her name was.'
' Hillo I And those were the cattle that you risked
your life to clear out of Twenty-Two 3 '
*No — I was thinking of the Company's props, not
the Company's men.'
'Sounds better to say so now; but I don't believe
you, old fellow.'
IN FLOOD TIME
Tweed said tae Till :
• What gars ye rin sae still ? »
Till said tae Tweed :
•Though ye rin wi' speed
An' I rin slaw —
Yet where ye droon ae man
I'lroon twa.'
ThlvZ ft"°f h 7 r" t "'^' *°-"'SH Sahib,
^ney say th , a bullock-cart has been washed down
ab^ady, and the ekka that went over a half hour ^Z
you oame has not yet reached the far side. 17^
show him «f \""' t^^" '"' -'""'-lephant Lt
show him. Ohe, mahout there in the shed I Brinir out
Ram Perehad, and if he will face the curren 1^
An elephant never lies, Sahib, and Ram PeS U^^
rated from his friend Kala Na,r H« t/ -^ '^
oroM t/^ *!,.> *. -J ™ „ ^' "*' *°°< wishes to
^r L w„T "^T- ""'*°"«'''' *"<» »"« '''»t the
nversays. Well done. Ram PershadI Pearl «m™„
fool I Was the goad made only to scratch thy own ht
back with, bastard? Strike I Strike I What Z the
boulders to thee, Ram Per^had, my Rustum, my mout
tain of strength? Go in I Go in I ' "»/ ^oun-
No, Sahib I It is useless. You can hear him trumpet
He IS telhng Kala Nag that he cannot oo.r... .J! I I
iie has swxmg round and
871
^ , »^* . ►JO
shaking his head. He
IS
'I '
272
IN FLOOD TIME
no fool. He knows what the Barhwi means when it is
angry. Aha I Indeed, thou art no fool, my child I
Salaam^ Ram Pershad, Bahadur I Take him under the
treee, mahout^ and see that he gets his spic"«j. Well
done, thou chiefest among tuskers. Salaam to the
Sirkar and go to eleep.
What is to be done? The Sahib must wait till the
river goes down. It will shrink to-morrow morning, if
God pleases, or the day after at the latest. Now why
does the Sahib get so angry? I am his servant. Before
God, / did not create this stream I What can I do?
My hut and all that is therein is at the service of the
Sahib, and it |s beginning to rain. Come away, my
Lord. How will the river go down for your throwing
abuse at it ? In the old days the English people were
not thus. The fire-carriage has made them soft. In
the old days, when they drave behind horses by day or
by night, they said naught if '^ "iver barred the way, or
a carriage sat down in the 1. It was ihe will of
God — not like a fire-carriage which goes and goes and
goes, and would go though all the devils in the land
hung on to its tail. The fire-carriage hath spoiled the
English people. After all, what is a day lost, or, for
that matter, what are two days? Is the Sahib going to
hid own wedding, chat he is so mad with haste ? Ho I
Ho ! Ho ! I am an old man and see few Sahibs. For^
give me if I have forgotten the respect that is due to
them. The Sahib is not angry ?
His own wedding I Ho I Ho I Ho I The mind of
an old man is like the numah-tveQ. Fruit, bud, blossom,
and the dead leaves of all the years of the past flourish
together. Old and new and that which is gone out of
remembrance, all three are there I Sit on the bedstead,
J
tns when it is
i, my child I
im under the
ipic^*}. Well
laam to the
; wait till the
V morning, if
b. Now why
'ant. Before
it can I do?
arvice of the
le away, my
5ur throwing
people were
em soft. In
jes by day or
I the way, or
I ihe will of
ind goes and
I in the land
I spoiled the
lost, or, for
hib going to
haste? Hoi
Jahibs. For-
latis due to
The mind of
)ud, blossom,
past flourish
gone out of
he bedstead,
IN FLOOD TIME
273
i
c^t^ J^ ""f • ^' ~ """l'' ">« Sahib in truth
of Nuklao My 8on, who is i„ service there. sentUt^
Te'tu^" Th's-Vt*!".'- " """ "^"O" "»- *» hVn'U^
W I, , w7 ^'"'' '^^^ " ■"'« » Musalman. Wah I
I": HoT ^01 TH^^.^J"'"' «" ownwedlt
no I Hoi Hoi The Sahibs says that there is no wed-
ding m the matter at all? Now i. it likely that ofj
Sah,b would speak trae talk to me who am onTv a black
man? Small wonder, then, that he is in haste." Thirtv
Clt::islt" '"'r^ "" "^' fordXt^'e':^
«- very lon^ time. Thirty years ago this fmrl
was on the track of the bunjara», a.nd I ha™ seen tw^
thousand pack-bullocks cro^ in 'one night Now tZ
a hundred lakhs of maunds slide across that big br d™
It «. very wonderful; but the ford is lonely now Z
there are no iu^fara, to camp under the treel
ofthefLt A ,j ^ Thirty years on the banks
fort 14? ^" °" """• ■"» ^ -'»—''- « the c-l
Tr* ***** ♦ •
^i^'our pardon, but, because of mv years T «lnJl
zfitr ^--f "".^ r --^ *o^^<joo: L"k
WW I \ • f *"'* "'*"-• ^ f"" half A», from
^'"^.^_^"'' ■' . '"' ^t™"- »»- - you can see it unde"
t„» =»„ _ and were are ten feet of water therein. It
II >1
274
IN FLOOD TIME
.,' i
will not shrink because of the anger in your eyes, and
it will not be quiet on account of your curses. Which
is louder, Sahib — your voice or the voice of the rivor ?
Call to it — perhaps it will be ashamed. Lie down and
sleep afresh, Sahib. I know the anger of the Barhwi
when there has fallen rain in the foot-hills. I swam
the flood, once, on a night tenfold worse than this, and
by the Favour of God I was released from Death when
I had come to the very gates thereof.
May I tell the tale ? Very good talk. I will fill the
pipe anew.
Thirty years ago it was, when I was a young man and
had but newly come to the ford. I was strong then,
and the hunjaras had no doubt when I said * this ford is
clear.' I have toiled all night up to my shoulder-blades
in running water amid a hundred bullocks mad with
fear, and have brought them across losing not a hoof.
When all was done I fetched the shivering men, and
they gave me for reward the pick of their cattle — the
bell-bullock of the drove. So great was the honour in
which I was held I But, to-day when the rain falls p.nd
the river rises, I creep into my hut and whimper like a
dog. My strength is gone from me. I am an old man
and the fire-carriage has made the ford desolate. They
were wont to call me the Strong One of the Barhwi.
Behold my face. Sahib — it is the face of a monkey.
And my arm — it is the arm of an old woman. I swear
to you. Sahib, that a woman has loved this face and has
rested in the hollow of this arm. Twenty years ago.
Sahib. Believe me, this was true talk — twenty years
ago.
Come to the door and look across. Can you see a
thin fire verv far awav down the stream ? That is the
our eyes, and
rses. Which
of the rivor?
Lie down and
I the Barhwi
ills. I swam
han this, and
I Death when
I will fill the
)ung man and
strong then,
1 * this ford is
oulder-blades
ks mad with
J not a hoof,
ing men, and
: cattle — the
he honour in
rain falls and
limper like a
n an old man
jolate. They
le Barhwi.
)f a monkey,
aan. I swear
face and has
;y years ago,
twenty years
m you see a
That is the
IN FLOOD TIME
275
but it is hidden by a bend of t^I' "l'**^ "*^"'
to swim, Sahib? V„„U ° tke r *."'/"
and adventure? Yet I swim tT P.* ^"""^ "^"^^'^
^- »an, «mes, and thm^Mrr r
the headman-rhorhold ,1 ''" T° '"^ ^hey of
t» when She ^Z^" ^ Zlr'^^l- *" ^"^
upon the wheels nf th^ u ii , ^"^®^ ^^^^s were
What was it to me whe^e^lk fZ S' o^f "* '
rnS'^^CmlttleLn^"^^^^^
Nine Bars savs thaf 1 ^ ^® Seventh of the
"*'» *»»*y8 mat a man may . mai^^ ««« a .-,
Idolaters? Is that truth? Both ■^hlT^ T ^^ *'"'
say that a Mn»alm»n „. . *"*"" """J Sunnis
tera? Is the slr^ ""^ "'" "»"y <»>« «* the idola-
much? I^u'^u'' * P™** !^' *■"' ''^ '""»-" "o
know. Th^is L^r, rf "^ "•" ""^ "'"^^ "»'
nor idolater ?nW»dt^fN"V""'''' *°'''"''«°
little fagote'that t^Ce ot We'ttX^ '"' "'"^
In truth, I would have taken STr^^^ v ''"'*^-
<io ? The headman wo:iSt™'^ „;. "^ :^ V"" " J
my he«i with staves. I am not-I ■;;s"™t!:X:^
276
IN FLOOD TIME
of any five men ; but against half a village who oan
prevail ?
Therefore it was my custom, these things having
been arranged between us twain, to go by night to the
village of Pateera, and there we met among the crops ;
no man knowing aught of the matter. Behold, now I
I was wont to cross here, skirting the jungle to the
river bend where the railway bridge is, and thpn.;e
across the elbow of land to Pateera. The light of the
shrine was my guide when the nights were dark. That
jungle near the river is very full of snakes -- little
karaita that sleep on the sand — and moreover, Her
brothers would have slain me had they found me in the
crops. But none knew — none knew save She and I;
and the blown sand of the river-bed covered the track
of my feet. In the hot months it was an easy thing to
pass from the ford to Pateera, and in the first Rains,
when the river rose slowly, it was an easy thing also.
I set the strength of my body against the strength of
the stream, and nightly I ate in my hut here and drank
at Pateera yonder. She had said that one Hirnam
Singh, a thief, had sought Her, and he was of a village
up the river but on the same bank. All Sikhs are dogs,
and they have refused in their folly that good gift of
God — tobacco. I was ready to destroy Hirnam Singh
that ever he had come nigh Her ; and the more because
he had sworn to Her that She had a lover, and that he
would lie in wait and give the name to the headman
unless She went away with him. What curs are these
Sikhs I
After that news, I swam always with a little sharp
knife in my belt, and evil would it have been for a man
had he stayed me. I knew not the face of Hirnam
vrillage who can
IN FLOOD TIME ^.
^:t:Xl """ '"^'' ■"""■' -y -"» o-e between
three feef hthTnd r h? ™ 'l"" """ "'"«' » '^''»
of a fire and Coookf„;' 7" "k""'""^" "«' "^hting
runnel to a suj^of the jLI' '*"^'""^' «"^ '-™ "
nver heavy upon my heels Ye wh^t^^?t *'"
man not do for Uve's sakn? tk '"'** ^'" » young
from the stars, and 1 dwav to leThT ''k ' ''"'" "^ht
stinking deodar t,r» T V ^ ^°*' * '"*"o'» of the
That LlZn't^^"^'"'^ ■"""* ■" I «'«'>»•
beyond, for heTo^,t;f'""'" '"' '«<"•'"•'» -^
from the hillsides r I^a u^ ^' """ ^^y "'"'keu
but er« I had ^rehed the sL w.' '^ "™' """»? "o.
beat, as it were^^ hi 1? ^ ' *' P"' '- "* *« "''eam
shoal was ^n^'ard rrodeT/^r""^.'*"''' '«'«"<'• '>'<'
that ran frfm Zk to tetk ^he V^T °' " ""^^
oast into much w»ter th^Tu, ^ ®*'"'' '"^^ been
use his limW :^ 1. ^u "f ""' "»' '«' " "">«
seemed asToLh thl' "^ ^"^ "P"" «"> ""ter. it
world's end ri th! r T "^"S*" ''"' '"'ter to he
A man La very utaHh *™ "l'''"' '«« ''^ft-»'i-
And m floorthoi'h T v"^ '" ""' "^''y of a flood.
Flood about wMfh""mt'JrsTin ""^T *"" «"'»'
solved and I lay like a W . ^^ ''™'' ''»» ^-
of Death. The^ were 1 °Lr '"''■^^ '" *« '««
ip„ „„j 1.-..,. ''*'^® """Sr thrngs in the w«w „-,.
-.. ^"-wang grievously -beasis of the hr^iZ
378
IN FLOOD TIME
ill
cattle, and once the voice of a man asking for help
But the rain caino and lashed the water white, and I
heard no more save the roar of the boulders below and
the roar of the rain above. Thus I was whirled down-
stream, wrestling for the breath in me. It is very hard
to die when one is young. Can the Sahib, standing
here, see the railway bridge ? Look, there are the lights
of the mail-train going to Peshawur ! The bridge is
now twenty feet above the river, but upon that night
the water was roaring against the lattice-work and
against the lattice came I feet first. But much drift-
wood was piled there and upon the piers, and I took no
great hurt. Only the river pressed me as a strong man
presses a weaker. Scarcely could I take hold of the
lattice-work and crawl to the upper boom. Sahib, the
water was foaming across the rails a foot deep I Judge
therefore what manner of flood it must have been. I
could not hear. I could not see. I could but lie on the
boom and pant for breath.
After a while the rain ceased and there came out in
the sky certain new washed stars, and by their light I
saw that there was no end to the black water as far as
the eye could travel, and the water had risen upon the
rails. There were dead beasts in the driftwood on the
piers, and others caught by the neck in the lattice-work,
and others not yet drowned who strove to find a footr
hold on the lattice-work — buffaloes and kine, and wild
pig, and deer one or two, and snakes and jackals past
all counting. Their bodies were black upon the left
side of the bridge, but the smaller of them were forced
through the lattice-work and whiried down-stream.
Thereafter the stars died and the rai came down
afresh and the river rose yet more, and I felt the bridge
sking for help,
er white, and I
[lore below and
whirled down-
It is very hard
iahib, standing
B are the lights
The bridge is
?on that night
btice-work and
it much drift-
and I took no
} a strong man
e hold of the
m. Sahib, the
deep I Judge
have been. I
but lie on the
8 came out in
their light I
c^ater as far as
isen upon the
ftwood on the
i lattice-work,
to find a foot-
cine, and wild
I jackals past
ipon the left
a were forced
i-stream.
! came down
elt the bridge
IN FLOOD TIME
279
that I wa, not afrajj n,'™', ' ,f '^' ^ «™'»- to you
limbs. I knew that hoSotd" till", r:"'" "^
r.:::tr'^"^-"-----
bridge lifted its flank to hf rush of tit ™'°' ""'' "»
the right lattice dipped und ta^ aL th^'f f." """
clear. On mv Iwmrf ts»i,;i, r ^"^ *™ the left rose
Aa a Mir^anore It L ^ "" ''P""'""» ^'''''s truth!
I slid from the b^m i2l '" "° "*''"' ""'»»«■••
came the wave "of'T ZllZ:^^' ^htllT
vo.ce and the scream of the middle wrt of th„ K^ "^
>t moved from the pier, and sank a^n ,1*''° ^"^^ "«
till I rose in the mid.ll. „f »T. ' ' '^"*"' »" ""ore
take no harm • and T f «,;o<. j ,, ^ ®®® ^^^'^ and
the man, f o^ i was fl! .^"^ ^ "i"^" '° ""o ""'»*
down thesf^amrielT'!,^ "^"l *°«''*<" "« *«"*
ing that hel/HhouM have sun^ /he'^ """^- ^'«=''-
marrow, and my flesh Z TbLd .„d ' .7" '" "^
bones. But he had no fea7 Jh„ h 71 '^''*" "" "^
most of thepowerof the" an^l wT '"" "'*«"
he chose. At last we «^me i'n^l °' '"" 8° '^'■««'
ournmt tJ.«f .„* .„ *.. l:^"^ '".'» *•■« P^er of a side-
'- -" "&™ oank, and I strove with my
ft 4 '!
280
IN FLOOD TIME
I i|
feet to draw with it. But the dead man swung heavily
in the whirl, and I feared that some branch had struck
him and that he would sink. The tops of the tamarisk
brushed ray knees, so I know we were come into flood-
water above the crops, and, after, I let down my legs
and felt bottom — the ridge of a field — and, after, the
dead man stayed upon a knoll under a fig-tree, aud I
drew my body from the water rejoicing.
Does the Sahib know whither the backwash of the
flood had borne me? To the knoll which is the eastern
boundary-mark of the village of Pateeral No other
place. I drew the dead man up on the grass for the
service that he had done me, and also because I knew
not whether I should need him again. Then I went,
crying thrice like a jackal, to the appointed place which
was near the byre of the headman's house^ But my
Love was already there, weeping. She feared that the
flood had swept my hut at the Barhwi Ford. When I
came softly through the ankle-deep water, She thought
it was a ghost and would have fled, but I put my arms
round Her, and — I was no ghost in those days, though
I am an old man now. Hoi Hoi Dried corn, in
truth. Maize without juice. Hoi HoP
I told Her the story of the breaking of the Barhwi
Bridge, and She said that I was greater than mortal
man, for none may cross the Barhwi in full flood, and
I had seen what never man had seen before. Hand in
hand we went to the knoll where the dead lay, and I
showed Her by what help I had made the ford. She
looked also upon the body under the stars, for the latter
end of the night was clear, and hid Her face in Her
' I grieve to say that the Warden of Barhwi Ford is responsible here
lor two very bad puns in the vernacular. —B.K.
Is responsible here
IN FLOOD TIMB
Beloved; andThe »M .-TCr f "1 "L"" ""^f" "^
de-ost life in the world to .ny Lf 5° '"«:'»-<"' "..
cannot 8t«y here, for that woul, Ih. .""* "'" '«"• ^e
The body waa not a gunlXl'S^f tZ" ''"°" ■""•'
ghat, do thou and Lc^XsLu? ?." """ '"'™"'«-
him adrift into the BooiX'L T "•' .^^ ^ ««'
to the open, ever wagginrht'Zt W TJ"""" ""t
pnest under the pulp^bofrd And I ^"^ '** »
Himam Singh. ^ ' '»«' "o more of
Before the breaking of the d»v » .
I moved towarda such of th« 1 T " '"'' P*ted, and
With the full lighrw wha, /hLT/'" "'"«»'"»«'»•
neas, and the bones of 17^/ ^""^ '" the dark-
fleoh, for the™ ral tl L*^^ ''^^ '"««'»'«' in my
the village of Pateem Id th , ^'"« '""*'• "»tween
wd. in a.e middle, The it f.t °* "«' ^^ I^nk.
showed lite broken tlethTthe it ^'"'' «""«•
Nor waa there any life UDon th. I "^ *" "'"* »«>•
nor boa^. but oily » "aCy!"; ZZj.T''"'' ""^
ocka and horses and men -anJ^r *"'«' - ''"'■
than blood from the clav „f tl, * t "™' *«« ™<ider
»een auch a flood _ nZr^l^JlT''- ^«™' "^ ^
the like -and, O Sahib L"- ^ ^'" '"'^'' ^ '^0°
I had done, ihe™ w^^turnT '"'"""'' '"'»'
Not for aU the landa otlhTt. } *" "o that day.
second time without thelieldtT T"" ' ™»'"«' »
danger. I w.nt . J- . .. °* ''"^ness that nl„.t.
the house of
a
282
IN FLOOD TIME
blacksmith, saying that the flood had swept me from my
hut, and they gave me food. Seven days I stayed with
the blacksmith, till a boat came and I returned to my
house. There was no trace of wall, or roof, or floor --
naught but a pateh of slimy mud. Judge, therefore,
bahib, how far the river must have risen.
It was written that I should not die either in my
house, or in the heart of the Barhwi, or under the
wreck of the Barhwi Bridge, for God sent down Hirnam
Singh two days dead, though I know not how the man
died, to be my buoy and support. Hirnam Singh has
been in Hell these twenty years, and the thought of
that night must be the flower of his torment.
Listen, Sahib! The river has changed its voice. It
IS going to sleep before the dawn, to which there is yet
one hour With the light it will come down afresh.
How do I know ? Have I been here thirty years with-
out knowing the voice of the river as a father knows
the voice of his son? Every moment it is talking less
angrily. I swear that there will be no danger for one
. hour or, perhaps, two. I cannot answer for the morn-
mg. Be quick, Sahib ! I will call Ram Pershad, and
he will not turn back this time. Is the paulin tightly
corded upon all the baggage ? Ohe, mahout with a mud
head, the elephant for the Sahib, and tell them on the
far side that there will be no crossing after daylight
Money? Nay, Sahib. I am not of that kind No,
not even to give sweetmeats to the baby-folk. My
house, look you, is empty, and I am an old man.
Dutt, Ram Pershad! Dutt! Dutt! Dutt! Good
luck go with you, Sahib.
3pt me from my
s I stayed with
returned to my
roof, or floor —
idge, therefore,
i either in my
or under the
b down Hirnam
; how the man
lam Singh has
he thought of
ent.
I its voice. It
h there is yet
down afresh,
ty years with-
father knows
s talking less
anger for one
for the morn-
Pershad, and
oaulin tightly
ut with a mud
them on the
r daylight.
it kind. No,
-by-folk. My
i man.
Duttf Good
THE SENDING OP DANA DA
When the DevU ridfla «„
Native Proverb. "" °" ^^^ «^««t remember the chamar. -
OnOIS UDOn 'itna
Heaven Z , net Elrouf oTh 'l '"*" """*« " "«-
under bushes, or stuffed int,. i^ i • ^'* '^«™ ^^dden
» entire Civil Serv^e of "uL^ '^ '" *« '""'^'''e, and
or mend them agate a, d"v "''"'"* ^'^ "««d to iind
"■ore things in Heavek a^fd S 7 "'' = ' '''""' -«
oup philosophy.' Severnl „«f J *" "* '''^''"t of in
flrat manifestations: thouth^-? ^f'' '""'='' Wo-d ite
»ervice,a„dorchesta eflet, in !f "^ "'""»« Po^^'
tte »«*oine-men of^nlT'' "' ^"^•y"''"^ ""at
approved of and stole from Fr« """'"featured. It
I-atterHlay Rosicrueians of hatf 1 "^ ' '»"'«'' ">«
"ny fmgmente of Egyptian nhf ? ^* ^""^ ' ^ok
Vedas as had been translated ,W ^ "*"y °^ ^e
and talked of all the Z^m^I'T'' " ^"«'"'''
of what is left of the Zend^Z L "''" "'™'°™
Gray and Black Magic ino^J^ '-"onraged White,
miatrv f-.-4.- . .- s'o. includino- anii-it,,»!:.„ ,
-^J, luitune-teuing bv oarr)» i,„» ,*•—• •-"■■i.s.m, pal-
S oy ^, hot ohestnute, double-
!.f.
V'ffi
i«
ii I
284
THE SENDING OF DANA DA
kernelled nuts and tallow droppings; would have
adopted Voodoo and Oboe had it known anything
about them, and showed itself, in every way, one of the
most accommodating arrangements that had ever been
invented since the birth of the Sea.
When it was in thorough working order, with all the
machinery, down to the subscriptions, complete, Dana
Da came from nowhere, with nothing in his hands, and
wrote a chapter in its history which has hitherto been
unpublished. He said that his first name was Dana,
and his second wm Da. Now, setting aside Dana of
the New York Sun, Dana is a Bhilname, and Da fits no
native of India unless you except the Bengali D^ as the
onginal spelling. Da is Lap or Finnish ; and Dana Da
was neither Finn, Chin, Bhil, Bengali, Lap, Nair, Gond,
Romaney, Magh, Bokhariot, Kurd, Armenian, Levantine,
Jew, Persian, Punjabi, Madrasi, Parsee, nor anything
else known to ethnologists. He was simply Dana Da
and declined to give further information. For the sake
of brevity and as roughly indicating his origin, he was
^fi'?/ ^^^ ^^*'''®-' ^^ "^'^^^ ^^^« ^en the original
Old Man of the Mountains, who is said to be the only
authorised head of the Tea-cup Creed. Some people
said that he was; but Dana Da used to smile and deny
any connection with the cult; explaining that he was
an ' Independent Experimenter.'
As I have said, he came from nowhere, with his hands
behind his back, and studied the Creed for three weeks •
sitting at the feet of those best competent to explain its'
mysteries. Then he laughed aloud and went away, but
the laugh might have been either of devotion or
dension.
When he returned he was without monev. hn.\ hi^
THE SESDKO OF DANA DA ™,
taught Wn..^^'?„f~»^ Earth than those Zl
altogether. " """'""naoy was abandoned
His next appearance in Duhlin iif»
ment in Upper India, and L 1 1''*' "' * "« •'^'°°-
with the helpof three lea' rd"" '*"'"^ *°^"°«»
better fortunes when he wj!., ^'T P""'" »« ^W
-hiskey, but theln^rh.^;^-/.'-!' a bottle of
opmmwe.^quiteworththemonevHl '"'*'* on the
oireumstances. Amono' othl. ' , , '"^ '° reduced
nne of an EnghS who Vr^'" ""^ '"1'' *« fort.
» the Simla Creed Tut tlo*? T' ''''"' '"'^'^^ted
and forgotten all hk oldTn^' .^' °''' '**<' ""^d
babies and things. The E„»l T ^^ " *''' ''""^^ »'
toteUa fortunffor ch,ril^^,^,r» """^^d ^ana Da
rupees, a dinner, and some tld ^1 *""* «*^« ''™ ^^o
eaten. Dana Da Xrjiatud?''", ^'"'" ''^ ''="»
--n,thinghe could doCrhrlfn'^it '^.ti:
Th'eXrhm\TCd*u! Tf 'r'' '»''• °»°« Da.
^g ber name into the J ' "'"* '*'* "° '^^^re to
"book his head. "ourersation. He therefore
Th^E^Kshman Tam'ttat'^a '""''' '""^ """^ D"-
^hom he hated detply ^''^ """' »«^«»1 men
'Very good," said Dana Da im„„ v
and the opium were begLningTj Tn'^^ ""^^"y
their names, and I wUl ,lJZ,u o °"'y »'''e me
aud kill them.' ^''P"'*'' » lending to them
^ow a Sending is a hoi^ble ar»ngement, ^, ,,.
r''^
' 1
^i f
286
THE SENDING OF DANA DA
vented, they say, in Iceland. It is a Thing sent by a
wizard, and may take any form, but, most generally,
wanders about the land in the shape of a little purple
cloud till it finds the Sendee, and him it kills by chang-
ing into the form of a horse, or a cat, or a man without
a face. It is not strictly a native patent, though cha-
mars of the skin and hide castes can, if irritated, de-
spatch a Sending which sits on the breast of their
enemy by night and nearly kills him. Very few natives
care to irritate chamara for this reason.
'Let me c'espatch a Sending,' said Dana Da; »I am
nearly dead jow with want, and drink, and opium;
but I should like to kill a man before I die. I can
send a Sending anywhere you choose, and in any form
excopt in the shape of a man.'
The Englishman had no friends that he wished to
kill, but partly to soothe Dana Da, whose eyes were
rolling, and partly to see what would be done, he asked
whether a modified Sending could not be arranged for
— such a Sending as should make a man's life a burden
to him, and yet do him no harm. If this were possible,
he notified his willingness to give Dana Da ten rupees
for the job.
' I am not what I was once,' said Dana Da, ' and I
must take the money because I am poor. To what
Englishman shall I send it ? '
' Send a Sending to Lone Sahib,' said the Englishman,
naming a man who had been most bitter in rebuking
him for his apostasy from the Tea-cup Creed. Dana
Da laughed and nodded.
' I could have chosen no better man myself,' said he.
'I will see that he finds the Sending about his path
aucl aoouii nis oed.
li'i
THE SENDING OP DANA DA 287
He lay down on the hearth-rug, turned up the whites
lives. ^ '"'^" "'■'«•■« ^one Sahib
.»I^'''^'"°,'"^ **" ™P««^'' '"^d Dana Da wearilv
and wnte a letter to Lone Sahib, telling him,Z;u
who believe with him, that you and a friend^U •
a power greater than theirs"^ They wffl 1 TL "^
are speaking the truth.' ^ "■*' y°"
He departed unsteadily, with the promise of .„m.
in whaf f! "" T ! '''*«' *" ^»°« Sahibfcouched
rirJ^ H ''■"''"'^^d of the terminology of the
so deeply mysterious that the recTpLt rf 2',^»^
could make neither head nor toil rfTan/ **'
«onately impressed; for he fanld ha l^enTra^-
become a .fifth-rounder.' When a man is a ffl^^
crH::d.'^"^"'^"-°'««--«"'^-„dHoS
W Sahib read the letter in five different f».i,-
and was beginning a sixth inte^^ wtn h^'
ttid t' '"f Tf '"^ ™"^ *"='* *- ~t on
the bed. Now if there was one thing that Lone S»1^K
hated more than another, it was a caf. He seoTdedl!
s^rJrr' '"'■"'"^ ■' °"' of *•>« tousf The Wr
said that he was afraid. 4 II tu- -i-, *• - -
had l^n shut th^ughout-ito^t- ^orZ"
■ t0^ " '
288
THE SENDING OF DANA DA
could possibly have entered the room. He would pre-
fer not to meddle with the creature.
Lone Sahib entered the room gingerly, and there, on
the pillow of his bed, sprawled and whimpered a wee
white kitten ; not a jumpsome, frisky little beast, but a
slug-like crawler with its eyes barely opened and its
paws lacking strength or direction — a kitten that ought
to have been in a basket with its mamma. Lone Sahib
caught it by the scruff of its neck, handed it over to the
sweeper to be drowned, and fined the bearer four annas.
That evening, as he was reading in his room, he
fancied that he saw something moving about on the
hearth-rug, outside the circle of light from his reading-
lamp. When the thing began to myowl, he realised
that it was a kitten — a wee white kitten, nearly blind
and very miserable. He was seriously angry, and
spoke bitterly to his bearer, who said that there was
no kitten in the room when he brought in the lamp,
and real kittens of tender age generally had mother-
cats in attendance.
*If the Presence will go out into the veranda and
listen,' said the bearer, *he will hear no cats. How,
therefore, can the kitten on the bed and the kitten on
the hearth-rug be real kittens ? '
Lone Sahib went out to listen, and the bearer followed
him, but there was no sound of any one mewing for her
children. He returned to his room, having hurled the
kitten down the hillside, and wrote out the incidents
of the day for the benefit of his co-religionists. Those
people were so absolutely free from superetition that
they ascribed anything a little out of the common
to Agencies. As it was their business to know all about
the Agencies, they were ou terms of almost indecent
„l
THE SENDING OP DANA DA
^-Xid S"r :-;. °' --y ^'"^- r.2
Spirits used to sq^Tte L :^T"°''^'"'^''-''"<i
fU night; but thlyW nL"i " *'''''' ''^'«=''«««
tittens. Lone SaMb toTo^t Z ';'? """'*«' ^^
hour and the minute, as every pttv^^r*'"? ">«
bound to do, and append JrJ^t'., ^^r^" ''
because it was the niMt mv-f! • ?"S'">»uan's letter
have had a bearin7uponTvthr' "tr^"' ""^ "'ght
next. An outside! woKt!^ '", *'' ^"^ "^ the
thus : ' Look out I You 1,. T *""'»'**»d »" the tangle
I - going to n.ake J^uslr? "' "' ''"''^' ""<' "»-
huf Zr'SrSnef 1 f ?* "-""^ '" '''
-ords. They held Isedett " h"" "' ^""-yU^hle
tremulous joy, for, in sp te J.!' , """^ ''"«<' ^"h
the other worlds and^cies W .f""*^ '^*'' "J'
aweof thing, sent from GWl!/ i. ^ ''"'^ '""»»"
Sahib's rooS in sh^udfd ^^"^ ^^"^ "«* '" I-one
their conclave wasZf,;''^^"^ 'T "^' «'<">■»' ''"d
Photo-frames on the mt^telin^ * f "^'"^ """""S 'he
nearly blind, was loopW ^d -t""' "^''^ '''"^n,
.«>« clock and th^Slr "t! M' ""'"«""
investigations or doubting H " '*°PP«d »«
tion in the flesh. It w^ Tf "'™ '^^ *he Manifesta-
of purpose, but itlT.J^T r"''"*»^«»> "^^void
authenticity. ' Manifestation of undoubted
bac^^ifofol; f radt"" t ^"^ ^"^"■"' -• 'he
the Creed to e,pla7X& '" '''^ '^"^-^'^ °f
between the embodimm.t !f » ? '"*' ''"^- connection
fl have forgotten ;rn:i™OTtian Cod „,„,,,,
^hey called the kitten Ba.rTothorT""""**'"''-
u ' ^^ ■^°'^"» oi rum, or some-
fW
ilr
290
THE SENDING OF DANA DA
II il
li
thing; and when Lone Sahib confessed that the first
one had, at his most misguided instance, been drowned
by the sweeper, they said consolingly that in his next
life he would be a 'bounder,' and not even a 'rounder'
of the lowest grade. These words may not be quit«
correct, but they accurately express the sense of the
house.
When the Englishman received the Round Robin —
it came by post — he was startled and bewildered. He
sent into the bazar for Dana Da, who read the letter
and laughed. ' That is my Sending,' said he. ' I told
you I would work well. Now give me another ten
rupees.'
' But what in the world is this gibberish about Egyp-
tian Gods ? ' asked the Englishman.
' Cats,' said Dana Da with a hiccough, for he had dis-
covered the Englishman's whiskey bottle. ' Cats, and
cats, and cats ! Never was such a Sending. A hundred
of cats. Now give me ten more rupees and write as I
dictate:'
Dana Da's letter was a curiosity. It bore the English-
man's signature, and hinted at cats — at a Sending of
Cats. The mere words on paper were creepy and
uncanny to behold.
'What have you done, though?' said the English-
man ; ' I am as much in the dark as ever. Do you mean
to say that you can actually send this absurd Sending
you talk about ? '
* Judge for yourself,' said Dana Da. ' What does that
letter mean ? In a little time they will all be at my feet
and yours, and I — Glory I — will be drugged or
drunk all day long.'
Dana Da knew his neonle.
THE SENDING OF DANA DA ^M
. ^V ™° ''■"o J-ates cats wakes .m i *..
•ng ajd finds a litUe squirming Wtten „f V t" '"°™-
puts his hand into hi« „Z , °° ^ '"«'«'. or
halMead kitten whet htlJT 1 """^ «"<^ " '"««
ii« trunk and flnravUekittn ''"""j' '^' " °P«™
or goes for a long ri^e wlh W , T^ ^ dress^hirts.
his saddle-bow anY hakTa h L *"f '"^ ^'""PP^-^ °»
its folds when he oZ^H T '^''^"^^S kitten horn
finds a little blind kitl „n^ ^T °"" *" *»°«'- ""d
home and finds a wr^ wL tt' ''^'' " "^^^^ »'
'higgling among ^is S or^ ""•'''' *'"' 1»i". or
™«is. in his tobfcco-lar or iL,,^ ^"!^' ^"^ <'''^°-
in the veranda,- ww' 1^ ^ "*"«'"•* ^y^^ ^^^^
neither more nir let 11 -? ""^ """^ ''"'' '^'t'^''-
titten rightly could:; huld ^h"* ^'-^^ ^''«™ »»
When he dare not murder 1 H i *! """""'^^ "?»«'•
believes it t*. be a MaSwi ^^i^^ 'rove because he
iment, and half a d»el 0^°";^ ^™^'^' "^ E"""-!.
nl" oou«e of natuw he t ^^u"^ ""* °* *« '«»-
actually distressers^me^frne^^^Kr*'- "« ^»
;«t« thought that he wH hlhl vfi"'^ co-religion-
but many said that it hi ^'fY ""'^^ individual;
with prober r^^ot'L^ sllTrll"^' '''^^
naoherib Embodiment-Til fV f ^^.^^'h-Ra-Tum-Sen-
averted. They compa^.^^i^. .f r""" '"'^^ •««"
but none the LZ^^Znd o/ v""'^ **""'>-•
the Englishman who had sent 2 m T """^ ^"""^ "*
did not call it a SenlnVrcat "^f <«J"''°"- ^"-^^
not in their program.^ Icelandic magio was
niglff^rlr wfrTret;: *" "^ "^'^^ ^ '<"-
™p^. the .actTthXlSrUt"-^' ^"^'^
-."-a by a letter-it came fl^ng thro^I ^^Z
292
THE SENDING OF DANA DA
«.
|ir<
li'!
I
III
' !
:li
i
III
1
— from the Old Man of the Mountains — the Head of
all the Creed — v>xplaining the Manifestation in the
moat beautiful language and soaking up all the credit of
it for himself. The Englishman, said the letter, was
not there at all. He was a backslider without Power
or Asceticism, who couldn't even raise a table by force
of volition, much less project an army of kittens through
space. The entire arrangement, said the letter, was
strictly orthodox, worked and sanctioned by the highest
Authorities within the pale of the Creed. There was
great joy at this, for some of the weaker brethren seeing
that an outsider who had been working on independent
lines could create kittens, whereas their own rulers had
never gone beyond crockery — and broken at best —
were showing a desire to break line on their own trail.
In fact, there was the promise of a schism. A second
Round Robin was drafted to the Englishman, beginning:
» O Scoffer,' and ending with a selection of curses from
the Rites of Mizraim and Memphis and the Commina-
tion of Jugana, who was a * fifth-rounder,' upon whose
name an upstart * third-rounder ' once traded. A papal
excommunication is a billet-doux compared to the Com-
mination of Jugana. The Englishman had been proved,
under the hand and seal of the Old Man of the Moun-
tains, to have appropriated Virtue and pretended to
have Power which, in reality, belonged only to the
Supreme Head. Naturally the Round Robin did not
spare him.
He handed the letter to Dana Da to translate into
decent English. The effect on Dana Da was curious.
At first he was furiously angry, and then he laughed
for five minutes.
*I had thought,' he said, 'that they would have come
lid havfa come
THE SENDING OF DANA DA 293
At n '8"'* ■"« *«» niore rupees.'
ins lesf r„^t "^'t'r "'" ^"eUshmm wrote „„th-
be from your hand, thenfet it g" /„ ZtTlT
tens an^ threefo^lrf 'nt^ Tjl X "" ^'^r*' ""^
judge between us ' TM. , ""^ P'°P'^ "hall
Ud penr.r„d ^ :r:,rrd ai"*"" "-• ™'"'
laugnea at them some years aeo It «,»= „«! ■ ,7
nouneed that the Old Man ofthe iT T ^ ^ *"■
treat the matter with contempt Da^an"^- ''°"'''
Independent Investigator S„;. °"?* °» '«'"g »
the back of him R^f rt^j-j ''"^'^ '""°'** «'
They wanted to'see a £ Tht '"*" "" '^'''■
for all their spirituaU^. L ne sU'l ™'^ '"'""'"
beins worn oi,f wfh i •*. "''• ''''» ^^ really
fete He ?elt tLTf *T'.' '"'"""**<• ""^^kly to his
»W3. xie leit that he was beine ' kiti^Ann^ f« ^t.
power of Dana Da,' as the poetfays ''"'"' *''*
When the stated day dawned, the shower of kittens
ug, three m his bath-room, and the other six
9fU
THB RRNDINO OF DANA DA
■II ii
turned up at intervals among the visitors who came to
see the propht y break down. Never was a more satis-
factory Sending. On the next day there were no kit-
tens, and the next day and all the other days were
kittenless and quiet. The people murmured and looked
to the Old Man of the Mountains for an explanation .
A letter, written on a palm-leaf, dropped from the veil-
ing, but every one except Lone Sahib felt that enters
were not what the occasion demanded. There should
have been oats, there should have been cats, — full-
grown ones. The letter proved conclusively that there
had been a hitch in the Psychic Current which, collid-
ing with a Dual Identity, had interfered with the Per-
cipient Activity all along the main line. The kittens
were still going on, but owing to some failure in the
Developing Fluid, they were not materialised. The ah-
was thick with letters for a few days afterwards. Un-
seen hands played Gliick and Beethoven on finger-bowls
and clock-shades; but all men felt that Psychic Life
was a mockery without materialised Kittens. Even
Lone Sahib shouted with the majority on this head.
Dana Da's letters were very insulting, and if he had
then offered to lead a new departure, there is no know-
ing what might not have happen <?/3.
But Dana D was dying of r^^ "lir and OTiani in
the Englishman's godown, ai.d tud ainall heart for
honours.
* They have been put to shame,' said he. ' Never was
such a Sending. It has killed me.'
* Nonsense,' said the Englishman, *you are going to
lie, Dana Da, and that sort of stuff must be left behind.
I'll Ad\r u that you have made some queer things come
AVinillf. T'aII mj^ \tnnamt4-\'mr v>««n. l.^_. —.- iA. J «
THE SENDING OV DANA DA
•and i^'ri w„rr. t?' '"" °-' "« '«-%.
The suve.tLt:K s ^r"::'" "'^" '■
■ng with Death. Hia hand oW-i > " """ "sht-
he smiled a grim smi^e P"" "" """"^y »»<»
' Bend low,' he whispered. The Vn-i- 1
(peddler) — Cevlon n<,»ri ™ ,1^^^^ — '"'x-tcallah
lish education louloSa„^"'r'" "'"«' «»»•
^r hTrhihr^rr tti -r -'>'--
«tt.e, little oat' ^iZo^zti: ::r" '"'r-
very clever man. Very hwvL^L^^ *'^' '" »'>»»*-
Ask Lone Sahib's swee^^s Ji;^^""' "°" " """ *«■-
lan/wi^^vrbe^t^rr ""' ''"''' -«y »*-
and the making of new.ii'^'''? T "" ">»«•• nations
nnt „ -J ; ^ creeds is d scouraired
But consider the gorgeous simplicity of U aUI
i
ON THE CITY WALL
Then she let them down by a cord through the window ; for her
house was upon the town-wall, and she dwelt upon the wall. — Joshua
ii. 15.
Lalun is a member of the most ancient profession in
the world. Lilith was her very-great-grandmamma,
and that was before the days of Eve as every one
knows. In the West, people say rude things about
Lalun's profession, and write lectures about it, and
distribute the lectures to young persons in order that
Morality may be preserved. In the East where the
profession is hereditary, descending from mother to
daughter, nobody writes lectures or takes any notice ;
and that is a distinct proof of the inability of the East
to manage its own affairs.
Lalun's real husband, for even ladies of Lalun's
profession in the East must have husbands, was a big
jujube-tree. Her Mamma, who had married a fig-tree,
spent ten thousand rupees on Lalun's wedding, which
was blessed by forty-seven clergyman of Mamma's
church, and distributed five thousand rupees in charity
to the poor. And that was the custom of the land.
The advantages of having a jujube-tree for a husband
are obvious. You cannot hurt his feelings, and he
looks imposing.
walls, and Lalun's house was upon the east wall facing
296
ON THE CITY WALL
297
the river. If you fell from the broad window-seat you
dropped thirty feet sheer into the City Ditch. But if
you stayed where you should and looked forth, you
saw all the cattle of the City being driven down to
water, the students of the Government College play-
ing cricket, the high grass and trees that fringed the
river-bank, the great sand-bars that ribbed the river,
the red tombs of dead Emperors beyond the river,'
and very far away through the blue heat-haze, a glint
of the snows of the Himalayas.
Wall Dad used to lie in the window-seat for hours
at a time watching this view. He was a young
Muhammadan who was suffermg acutely from educa-
tion of the English variety and knew it. His father
had sent him to a Mission- school to get wisdom, and
Wali Dad had absorbed more than ever his father or
the Missionaries intended he should. When his father
died, Wali Dad was independent and spent two years
experimenting with the creeds of the Earth and reading
books that are of no use to anybody.
After he had made an unsuccessful attempt to enter
the Roman Catholic Church and the Presbyterian fold
at the same time (the Missionaries found him out and
called him names, but they did not understand his
trouble), he discovered Lalun on the City wall and
became the most constant of her few admirers. He
possessed a head that English artists at home would
rave over and paint .amid impossible surroundings—-
a face that female novelists would use with delight
through nine hundred pages. In reality he was only
a clean-bred young Muhammadan, with pencilled eye-
brows, smaii-cut nostrils, little feet and hands, and a
very tired look in his eyes. By virtue of his twenty-
ill i««
4
1
A.
i i
1
ll i
1
^fi.^ i
i,
298
ON THE CITY WALL
two years he had grown a neat black beard which he
stroked with pride and kept delicately scented. His
life seemed to be divided between borrowing books
from me and making love to Lalun in the window-
seat. He composed songs about her, and some of the
songs are sung to this day in the City from the Street
of the Mutton-Butchers to the Copper-Smiths' ward.
One song, the prettiest of all, says that the beauty
of Lalun was so great that it troubled the hearts* of
the British Government and caused them to lose their
peace of mind. That is the way the song h- «ung in
the streets ; but, if you examine it carefully and know
the key to the explanation, you will find that there are
three puns in it — on 'beauty,' 'heart,* and 'peace of
mind,' — so that it runs: 'By the silbtlety of Lalun
the administration of the Government was troubled
and it lost such and such a man.' When Wali Dad
sings that song his eyes glow like hot coals, and Lalun
leans back among the cushions and throws bunches of
jasmine-buds at Wali Dad.
But first it is necessary to explain something about
the Supreme Government which is above all and below
all and behind all. Gentlemen come from England,
spend a few weeks in India, walk round this great
Sphinx of the Plains, and write books upon its ways
and its works, denouncing or praising it as their own
ignorance prompts. Consequently all the world knows
how the Supreme Government conducts itself. But
no one, not even the Supreme Government, knows
everything about the administration of the Empire.
Year by year England sends out fresh drafts for the first
igiiLilig-iine, wiiiCii iS GinCliii.iy Cailcu Wic xuuluxx v^iYii
Service. These die, or kill themselves by overwork, or
ON THE CITY WALL
299
are worried to death or broken in health and hope in
order that the land may be protected from death and
sickness, famine and war, and may eventually become
capable of standing alone. It will never stand alone,
but the idea is a pretty one, and men are willing to die
for it, and yearly the work of pushing and coaxing and
scolding and petting the country into good living goes
forward. If an advance be made all credit is given to
the native, while the Englishmen stand back and wipe
their foreheads. If a failure occurs the Englishmen
step forward and take the blame. Overmuch tender-
ness of this kind has bred a strong belief among many
natives that the native is capable of administering the
country, and many devout Englishmen believe this also,
because the theory is stated in beautiful English with
all the latest political colour.
There be other men who, though uneducated, see
visions and dream dreams, and they, too, hope to ad-
minister the country in their own way •— that is to say,
with a garnish of Red Sauce. Such men must exist
among two hundred million people, and, if they are not
attended to, may cause trouble and even break the great
idol called Pax Britannic, which, as the newspapers say,
lives between Peshawur and Cape Comorin. Were the
Day of Doom to dawn to-morrow, you would find the
Supreme Government * taking measures to allay popular
excitement' and putting guards upon the graveyards
that the Dead might troop forth orderly. The young-
est Civilian would arrest Gabriel on his own responsi-
bility if the Archangel could not produce a Deputy
Commissioner's permission to 'make music or other
noises ' as the license says.
Whence it is easy to see that mere men of the flesh
II
'J!
\h
::! » I
300
ON THE CITY WALL
who would create a tumult must fare badly at the hands
of the Supreme Government. And they do. There
is no outward sign of excitement ; there is no confu-
sion ; there is no knowledge. When due and sufficient
reasons have been given, weighed and approved, the
machinery moves forward, and the dreamer of dreams
and the seer of visions is gone from his friends and
following. He enjoys the hospitality of Government ;
there is no restriction upon his movements within cer-
tain limits ; but he must not confer any more with his
brother dreamers. Once in every six months the
Supreme Government assures itself that he is well
and takes formal acknowledgment of his existence.
No one protests^ against his detention, because the few
people who know about it are in deadly fear of seem-
ing to know him ; and never a single newspaper ' takes
up his case ' or organises demonstrations on his behalf,
because the newspapers of India have got behind that
lying proverb which says the Pen is mightier than the
Sword, and can walk delicately.
So now you know as much as you ought about
Wali Dad, the educational mixture, and the Supren-*
Government.
Lalun has not yet been described. She would need,
so Wali Dad says, a thousand pens of gold and ink
scented with musk. She has been variously compared
to the Moon, the Dil Sagar Lake, a spotted quail, a
gazelle, the Sun on the Desert of Kutch, the Dawn, the
Stars, and the young bamboo. These comparisons imply
that she is beautiful exceedingly according to the native
standards, which are practically the same as those of the
W^fiat. TTftr PVPSl nrA Want an/1 \\a-n VioiT. I'a W«/^l^ «»> J
.. ^j — , „ — — ...... ttriivt xs.\jj. ixtcii io tjxauiL, aixU.
her eyebrows are black as leeches ; her mouth is tiny
ON THE CITY WALL
301
and says witty things ; her hands are tiny and have
saved much money ; her feet are tiny and have trodden
on the naked hearts of many men. But, as Wali Dad
sings : ' Lalun is Lalun, and when you have said that,
you have only come to the Beginnings of Knowledge.'
The little house on the City wall was just big enough
to hold Lalun, and her maid, and a pussy-cat with a sil-
ver collar. A big pink and blue cut-glass chandelier
hung from the ceiling of the reception room. A petty
Nawab had given Lalun the horror, and she kept it for
politeness' sake. The floor of the room was of polished
chunam, white as curds. A latticed window of car^ ed
wood was set in one wall ; there was a profusion of
squabby pluffy cushions and fat carpets everywhere,
and Lalun's silver huqa, studded with turquoises, had a
special little carpet all to its shining self. Wali Dad
was nearly as permanent a fixture as the chandelier.
As I have said, he lay m the window-seat and meditated
on Life and Death and Lalun — specially Lalun. The
feet of the young men of the City tended to her door-
ways and then — retired, for Lalun was a particular
maiden, slow of speech, reserved of mind, and not in the
least inclined to orgies which were nearly certain to end
in strife. ' If I am of no value, I am unworthy of this
honour,' said Lalun. ' If I am of value, they are un-
worthy of Me.' And that was a crooked sentence.
In the long hot nights of latter April and May all
the City seemed to assemble in Lalun's little white room
to smoke and to talk. Shiahs of the grimmest and
most uncompromising persuasion ; Sufis who had lost
all belief in the Prophet and retained but little in God ;
wandering Hindu priests passing southward on their
way to the Central India fairs and other affairs j Puu-
fc'i
Mty \
302
ON THE CITY WALL
dita in black gowns, with spectacles on their noses and
undigested wisdom in their insides ; bearded headmen
of the wards; Sikhs with all the details of the latest
ecclesiastical scandal in the Golden Temple ; red-eyed
priests from beyond the Border, looking like trapped
wolves and talking like ravens $ M.A.'s of the UnJ-
versity, very superior and very voluble — all these peo-
ple and more also you might find in the white room.
Wall Dad lay in the window-seat and listened to the
talk.
'It is Lalun's salon,' said Wali Dad to me, »and it
is electic — is not that the word? Outside of a Free-
mason's Lodge I have never seen such gatherings.
There I dined opce with a Jew — a Yahoudil' He
spat into the City Ditch with apologies for allowing
national feelings to overcome him. * Though I have
lost every belief in the world,' said he, *and try to be
proud of my losing, I cannot help hating a Jew. Lalun
admits no Jews here.'
' But what in the world do all these men do?' I asked.
' The curse of our country,' said Wali Dad. » They
talk. It is like the Athenians — always hearing and
telling some new thing. Ask the Pearl and she will
show you how much she knows of the news of the City
and the Province. Lalun knows everything.*
'Lalun,' I said at random — she was talking to a
gentleman of the Kurd persuasion who had come in
from God-knows-where — 'when does the 175th Regi-
ment go to Agra? '
' It does not go at all,' said Lalun, without turning
her head. 'They have ordered the 118th to go in its
stead. That Regiment goes to Lucknow in three
months, unless they give a fresh order.'
Ill
ON THE CITY WALL
303
*That is so/ said Wali Dad without a shade of
doubt. ' Can you, with your telegrams and your news-
papers, do better? Always hearing and telling some
new thing,' he went on. *My friend, has your God
ever smitten a European nation for gossip-* ag in the
bazars? India has gossiped for centuries — always
standing in the bazars until the soldiers go by. There-
fore — you are here to-day instead of starving in your
own country, and I am not a Muhammadan — I am a
Product — a Demnition Product. That also I owe to
you and yours : that I cannot make an end to my sen-
tence without quoting from your authors.' He pulled
at the huqa and mourned, half feelingly, half in earnest,
for the shattered hopes of his youth. Wali Dad was
always mourning over something or other — the coun-
try of which he despaired, or the creed in which he
had lost faith, or the life of the English which he could
by no means understand.
Lalun never mourned. She played little songs on
the iitar, and to hear her sing, '0 Peacock^ cry again,'
was always a fresh pleasure. She knew all the songs
that have ever been sung, from the war-songs of the
South that make the old men angry with the young
men and the young men angry with the State, to the
love-songs of the North where the swords whinny-
whicker like angry kites in the pauses between the
kisses, and the Passes fill with armed men, and the
Lover is torn from his Beloved and cries, Ai, Ai, Ai!
evermore. She knew how to make up tobacco for the
huqa so that it smelt like the Gates of Paradise and
wafted you gently through them. She could embroider
ovicsiigt; vniiiga ill gUlU. axiU 311 VCr, clUU. UUXlUe iOltly Wltu
the moonlight when it came in at the wirdow. Also
304
ON THE CITY WALL
'7^ 18
".ore of the secretoof tt r "*"•'* •""™«' »<!
good to be set d^l l?v "^T™"™' ^®"»^ ^^an are
Ld that her WeZlL Irth"; '!f'"'' '^^ ""'"••
whoever he was, knew it. ' *^^* ^^'
So she took her sitar and sat in fi,^ • j
great b/t^^^VdVUr IrTXcf ^1 "^ "
ran red and Sivaii florl flff *"., °^^^ «* *he Jumna
Toorkh stalliori^Thfs horses M 1 !? °t' ""'' "
on his saddle-bow Tf I '""^ *"»*''«'• L»lun
Their warrior forces Chimnajee
Before the Peishwa led,
The Children of the Sun and Fire
Behind him turned and fled.
And the chorus said :
With them there fought who rides so free
With sword and turban red,
The warrior-youth who earns his fee
At perU of his head.
me' ^^ Tu!:\°\^'" ''""'•' »•'' ^"1' »«d ^ English to
command - his eyes twinkled wickedly - ^ I „iil{
i
ON THE CITY WALL 3^5
* Don't speak English,' said Lalun, bending over her
Bitar afresh. The chorus went out from the City wall
to the blackened wall of Fort Amara which dominates
the City. No man knows the precise extent of Fort
Amara. Three kings built it hundreds of years ago,
and they say that there are miles of underground rooms
beneath its walls. It is peopled with many ghosts, a
detachment of Garrison Artillery and a Company of
^TTJl '*' P"""" '^ ^'^^ *^^ *^«^«^^d men and
nlled Its ditches with corpses.
'At peril of his head,' sang Lalun again and again.
A head moved on one of the Ramparts - the gray
head of an old man - and a voice, rough as shark skin
on a sword-hilt, sent back the last line of the chorus
and oroke into a song that I could not understand,
though Lalun and Wall Dad listened intently.
* What IS it ? ' I asked. ' Who is it ? '
'A consistent man,' said Wall Dad. * ' He fought you
in 46, when he was a warrior-youth ; ref ought you in
67, and he tried to fight you in 71, but you had learned
the trick of blowing men from guns too well. Now he
IS old J but he would still fight if he could '
'Is he a Wahabi, then ? Why should he answer to a
Mahratta laonee if he be Wahabi — or Sikh^ ' said I
'I do not know,' said Wali Dad. 'He has lost,
perhaps, his religion. Perhaps he wishes to be a
King. Perhaps he is a King. I do not know his
name.'
' That is a lie-, Wali Dad. If you know his career
you must know his name."
' That is quite true. I belong to a nation of 1i«.c
I would rather not tell you his name. Think for
yourseK.'
i
I'
Li'
' I
f-,'; (f
806
ON THE CITY WALL
JttZ.S':''^,^'^^^: ^"^^ - the Fort, and
y<:^^^^^ 'HthePeaHcWsestoteU
teU whTtTnf *" ^'"'Z """ ''"'»''^<'- ' I "'«'<'»« to
B„™»" ,. T *° **"• '^''^y ''"P' Khem Singh in
yerirt '■• .'"^'^^ ''"P' '""' t""*- f» »»"
years unt. his mind was changed in him. So great
was the kindness of the Governn^ent. FindW tw!
hay sent him back to his own country that hf mS
look upon it before he died. He is an old man but
whan he looks upon this his country his mamoTy'wiU
come Moreover, there be many who remember "hW
i„„ .r .. "V"^"'''"^ Survival,' said Wall Dad, pull-
»g at the huga. -He returns to a country no; fuU
of educational and political reform, but, as the Paa"
Z„ T' . ^ '"" ^'' "^^^^ tl'^y «" boys, go whor-
ng after strange gods, and they will become itizels-
aad would have been a princeling but for Ae powaT^f
the Supreme Government aforesaid.
The Senior Captain Commanding Port Amar». ™<.
away on leave, but the SubalternMs ofputT h^
drifted down to the Club, where I f„„m1 V^' ^
en,ui.d of Mm whether it ;r;e:ii; t™rttat'r„2^
..a. prisoner naa been added to the attractions of 'the
|V
ON THE CITY WALL
807
lort. The Subaltern explained at great length, for
thi8 was the first time that he had held Command of
the l^ort, and his glory lay heavy upon him.
*Ye8,' said he, 'a man was sent in to me about a
week ago from down the line -a thorough gentleman
whoever he is. Of course I did all I could for him.
He had his two servants and some silver cooking-pots,
and he looked for all the world like a native officer I
called him Subadar Sahib ; just as well to be on the
safe side, y'know. "Look here, Subadar Sahib," I said,
"you re handed over to my authority, and Vm sup-
posed to guard you. Now I don't want to make your
life hard, but you must make things easy for me. All
the ^ort 18 at your disposal, from the flagstaff to the
dry ditch, and I shall be happy to entertain you in any
way I can, but you mustn't take advantage of it. Give
me your word that you won't try to escape, Subadar
bahib, and 1 11 give you my word that you shaU have
no heavy guard put over you." I thought the best
way of getting at him was by going at him straight,
y know; and it was, by Jove I The dd man gave me
his word, and moved about the Fort as contented as a
sick crow. He's a rummy chap - always asking to be
told where he is and what the buildings about him are.
I had to sign a slip of blue paper when he turned up.
acknowledging receipt of his body and all that, and I'm
responsible, y'know, that he doesn't get away. Queer
thing, though, looking after a Johnnie old enough to
be your grandfather, isn't it? Come to the Fort one
of these days and see him ? *
^ For reasons which will appear, I never went to the
x«ort While Khem Singh was then within its walls. I
knew him only as a gray head seen from Lalun's win-
308
ON THE crnr wall
dow_a gray head and a harsh voice B„f .•
told me that, day bv dav ». hi, T ,' "* "**""«»
landa round AmaraJn7^' "'""' "P°" ""« *»'•■
with it. the TCtZ :;iZ ToT' *° """ '"'^•
had been nearly effaced in for off B„rl Th"' ^'l
up and down the West face of the p2% ' ™'^'"*
till noon and from eveniL tm .^ T """""'«
vain things in i.is heanri erlf„; Z^t'Tf'
Lalun sang on the City wall A? 7"'°"^" «'''«"
acquainted with the q„h«if„ u , S'^"' "><»«
'.eart of some o L " » ""t ""'"'"'«"«<' ^'^ "'d
'Sahib,'he Tsed to 1 T""" T '"^ "'*«'«d "•
Parape , 'when I ^SI' '^^"^ '"" ^*'<''' "S^^^*^ the
LuL'd ho' I'enh/cZfo^rof rr °* "^^"'^
round the plain' here S^hT i ,*'"' ^''^ •"«• ™de
Ho'n^irt rrt'tMur !z "*" ^'^^" "« ^o-
said the SubaJterT ^ '""^'"^ " ^''^ ^'^'^'
'Yes, to you, only to you. Sahib,' said Khem Sin^h
To you because you are of a nln, J„t 1. ^"•
my turn comes again lahibrr-l ""•"'• "
out your throat.' ^ '"'" ■"" ^•*''S ?»» ■><>'
alon^the^ Une' of" *"' l"''"*™ ^^«'y' ^ ^^ 'ootod
„„_!._. .''^°' «""» that could pound tl,» ni.„ ."
i^wwucr m nalt an hour tr^4. ' . ' — ' -5^ *""
^*^^- ^et us go into our own
ON THE CITY WALL
309
Khem Singh would sit on his own cushion at the
Subalterns feet, drinking heavy, scented anise-seed
brandy in great gulps, and telling strange stories of
Fort Amara, which had been a palace in the old days,
of Begums and Ranees tortured to death -aye, in the
very vaulted chamber that now served as a Mess-room ;
would tell stories of Sobraon that made the Subaltern's
cheeks flush and tingle with pride of race, and of the
Kuka rising from which so much was expected and the
foreknowledge of which was shared by a hundred thou-
sand souls. But he never told teles of '57 because, as
he said, he was the Subaltern's guest, and '57 is a year
that no man, Black or White, cares te speak of. Once
only when the anise-seed brandy had slightly affected
his head, he said: * Sahib, speaking now of a matter
which lay between Sobraon and the affair of tha Kukas
1 was ever a wonder te us that you steyed your hand at
all, and that, having stayed it, you did not make the
land one pnson. Now I hear from without that you do
great honour to all men of our country and by your own
hands are destroying the Terror of your Name which is
your strong rock and defence. This is a foolish thing.
Will oil and water mix ? Now in '57 ♦
' I wa^ not born then, Subadar Sahib,' said the Subal-
tern, and Khem Singh reeled to his quarters.
.t^h^n^^^'^7^"f^-''^^ ™^ °* '^''' conversations
Bnfw "n^ ^^- ^''''^ *°''' ^^'"^ S^°g^ increased.
But WaJi Dad, sitting in the window-seat of the house
on the aty wall, said that it would be a cruel thin^ to
do, ana i.aiun pretended that 1 preferred the society of
agnzzled old Sikh to here.
If
1
%'i:
M f '
ill
|l
310
ON THE CITY WALL
self T Jii 7fi *^^' ^''^' *bove all, here is mv-
^-^n one .U ,. he^^anrCtu^r^ -^Xt
nice man. He cM^^T T ^^P**" '^ "<>' »
he^^^e, the. . a «.„te t^ ^ ^ol'': ^; ^r]
black vt'm^'^r'th^r'r'^t" *" ■"*"• ««»«
Fifteen v^a™ lJf„ T . °'^ gentleman's feelinm.
in„.j «uo-uiterns are promoted to Captaincies.' ''
many friends
1» here is my-
u songs, and
in your ears,
mal yonder?
ay such and
of wonderful
me, and the
> the chill of
the flight of
ort returned
ingh accord-
i was not a
lich, besides
ace.
3s to watch
Subaltern,
is way, but
36, poor old
guards in
brows,
ike, these
lem Singh
's feelings,
ht for the
a sort of
■ But he
p^earn. and
ON THE CITY WALL
311
*The Captain-pig is in charge of the Fort?' said
Khem Singh to his native guard every morning. And
the native guard said: 'Yes, Subadar Sahib,' in defer-
ence to his age and his air of distinction ; but they did
not know who he was.
In those days the gathering in Lalun's little
white room was always large and talked more than
before.
' The Greeks,' said Wali Dad who had been borrow-
ing my books, Hhe inhabitants of the city of Athens,
where they were always hearing and telling some new
thing, rigorously secluded their women— who were
fools. Hence the glorious institution of the heterodox
women — is it not? — who were amusing and not fools.
All the Greek philosophers delighted in their company.
Tell me, my friend, how it goes now in Greece and the
other places upon the Continent of Europe. Are your
women-folk also fools ? '
'Wali Dad,' I said, 'you never speak to us about
your women-folk and we never speak about ours to you.
That is the bar between us.'
' Yes,» said Wali Dad, 'it is curious to think that our
common meeting-place should be here, in the house of a
common — how do you call her?' He pointed with the
pipe-mouth to Lalun.
' Lalun is nothing but Lalun,' I said, and that was
perfectly true. ' But if you took your place in the
worid, Wali Dad, and gave up dreaming dreams '
' I might wear an English coat and trouser. I might
be a leading Muharamadan pleader. I might be received
even at the Commissioner's tennis-parties where the Eng-
lish stand on one side and the natives on the other, in
order to promote social intercourse throughout the Em-
312
ON THE CITY WALL
thou art a King. ^The slhTh' T ^ "^ " ^^-^^^ ""d
thfa lucrative Government !°i? ^°" *'"^^ '^ ^o
shaU his pay be ? . ""'^'" appointment? Lalua, what
thel"ltto\':rof'::2 '"" ^-^ ~* -" ^ ^me
or WaU Dad. Then 1! « " ''°''"^ ""'^^^ f'"" her
to quote Pe:«ian7oety 47: f"T^ *"' """^^ >««-
line. Some of it wLnoT ,t .^^'^ P"° '" ^^^'^ »th»r
very funny, and itZy camrt!'"™7' .'"' " ^^ "^^
son in black, with «,IH !" ^""^ ''''^''' » &* Pei-
I-alun, and wS Daf dC7m ^".' "^/^ ""^ *°
night t» walk in a W^f T '"'° *^« twinkling
about KehgionanVolZr;",-^'-,''' ''^--
life. "^cura ana a man's career in
MuiiS'nritLf^tVrr-"-' "* ">«
Wali Dad said abTut XTo-^ I' T^- *' '^"S^ *h»'
secured his expulsion boIT, ^^'"T """^^ '"'^e
soot. There were t^e Zblr ^'i""^"^ *''»«"
above us, and from every qu^^tjlfrn' '"^ ''^"
boom of tte bis Mohnrr,.^ ? *® *^"y "a"* the
t^at the City if ZZZ S-e "^7 """' ''"°-
between the Hindus and th» m ^ , '"*" P™P°rtions
both creeds belon.™ :^L%.^''"^'^'^' »nd where
= - -. ^„u„g races, a big religious
ON THE CITY WALL
313
i career in
festival gives ample chance for trouble. When they
can -that is to say when the authorities aie weak
enough to allow it-the Hindus do their best to arrlnge
some minor feast-day of their own in time to clash wifh
the period of general mourning for the marty™ Hasan
and Huesam, the heroes of the Mohurrum. Gilt and
painted paper pr^entations of their tombs are borne
with shoutmg and wailing, music, torches, and yells
through the principal thoroughfares of the City which
fakement are called ta^ia>. Their passage is rLrt y
l^d down beforehand by the Police, and detathmente
of Pohce accompany each taiia, lest the Hindus should
tW bricks at it and the peace of the Queen and le
MohtrrL r "^ '"«^r *»"W thereby be broken.
and not the notera are held responsible. The foi-mer
must foresee everything, and while not making their
precautions ridiculously elaboi^te, must see Ihft they
are at least adequate. ^
hpli'^^'^.r ""^ '^"'"' ' ' "^^ "^"^ ^^ ' That is the
Hn^ *i:- t^ P^opl^-^mpty and makmgmuch noise.
How, thmk you, wiU the Mohurrum go this year' I
think that there wiU be trouble.' •^f^'"- J-
tl,f .V"™*'!,'''"'? * «ide.street and left me alone with
fte sUr, and a sleepy Police patrol. Then I went to
bed and dreamed that WaU Dad had sacked the City
:^k'ofTfficr '''"^'' "''' ^"^-'^ «"- %« '»
All Aiy the Mohurrum drums beat in the City, and
aU d^y deputations of tearful Hindu gentlemen beSeged
„j v.om.uissioner witli assurances that thev
would be murdered ere next dawning by the Muharama-
^*>-^.;.
«%,•-
*■ • .
#IJ
.. «
»* '
-■ 1? -
KW ^
. •^V-,-
r '-,.,
hfe^;. '
>\ .. .-
mm
" -tiL
u J'*- ■
-vl- ^■°
1P^^
^■- >v.
^"^i-.*;
(:-'^\
.
'^<...,
l£t
■ -C*'"^
^v'
T ;;.- 1
-•1
;".,■ " '"■; !
t f
314
ON THE CITY WALL
ant. I think we can arrange a lltfle surprise for Cm
I have given the heads of both Creeds faHIrnW n
^^ey ehoose to disregard it, so n>uch th~t J^
nitt7:en"'fLffhl"^ '" ^*'""'» ""^ *»«*
ztndn£HSr^--=
ing each «« march rtolcenXZ™ """"T"^'
the plain outoide the Citv ^™ . S»tl»ering-place in
Phant re.nt^ rn^ci^^'I' ^irS? ^alinfth;
mov^off .• said Wali Dad. looking I'^e'^lL'"^" '"
departed. "P^<= eight. The company rose and
*Some of them were men from Ladath > ^.iA t i
when the last had eone ' ThT ,^^*f *'' »^^^ ^^alun,
r -3- «-^-i, -"at" ^* r-^:
Cke tea'^ ""' '"'"' '''"' *« English Men^lZ
wL'^D^tllr ;''!1'!*^ T"- " - finished
--^^_„_.., „„,„^ ,„po j^j^^ stroets. »I am
ner, in con-
f indication
Bs unpleas-
5 for them,
arning. If
worse for
house that
afore, if I
fold pinee-
re bitterly
han I had
sy cutting
ould hear
company- .
g-place in
3ir trium-
AU the
rt Amara
le in the
azia has
*ince-nez.
^ose and
t Lalun,
)rick-tea
Pesha-
msahibs
Snished
^I am
ON THE CITY WALL
315
nearly sure that there will be trouble to-night,' he said.
' All the City thinks so, and Vox Populi is Vox Dei, as
the Babus say. Now I tell you that at the corner of
the Padshahi Gate you will find my horse all this night
if you want to go about and to see things. It is a most
disgraceful exhibition. Where is the pleasure of saying
''Ya Hasan, Ya Eussain," twenty thousand times in a
night?
All the processions — there were two and twenty of
them — were now well within the City walls. The
drums were beating afi-esh, the crowd were howling
'Ya Hasan/ YaHussainf and beating their breasts,
the bi'ass bands were playing their loudest, and at every
corner where space allowed, Muhammadan preachers
were telling the lamentable story of the death of the
Martyrs. It was impossible to move except with the
crowd, for the streets were not more than twenty feet
wide. In the Hindu quarters the shuttei-s of all the
shops were up and cross-barred. As the first tazia, a
gorgeous erection ten feet high, was borne aloft on the
shoulders of a score of stout men into the semi-dark-
ness of the Gully of the Horsemen, a brickbat crashed
through its talc and tinsel sides.
' Into thy hands, O Lord?' murmured Wall Dad pro-
fanel;, ^ a yell went up from behind, and a native
officer of Police jammed his horse through the crowd.
Another brickbat followed, and the tazia staggered and
swayed where it had stopped.
*Go on I Tn the name of the Sirkar, go forward!'
shouted the Policeman ; but there was an ugly cracking
and^ splintering of shutters, and the crowd halted, with
oaths and growlings, before the house whence the brick-
bat had been thrown.
316
ON THE CITY WALL
-*— I ;
Strike I Strike tlnt^frt *"'"'"""? «"« "'^'«»/
The six or etht Poh™ t^P'"' ^<" *« f-^thl'
batons, and sfuok ^'r;: T '""'' '""« ''"^ *«-
forcing ae mob fowl,/ wl """"' " *^' '"''" °'
and as contingents oTwnS ^ T™ ''™'l'<>«'ered,
the fight beore gllf "hV"""? '"*" *""« »'««'«'
tern were yet untouehed t^^ " " ^^^ ^""^'^ *«
'^a ffi..a» rr""i°"'='^«d the drums and the shrieks of
The fzi l^S'izL 7t:t "r r 'i- '°"^-
houses uporfntta^d t;td S '"1 ^ ^"^"*
bellowed: 'Din/ Un! mT'' f^^^ Footed streete
was dropped for a Aami^ barritr ttwerK- '^ "".^
Musalman at the comer of the Odly Z ^K " """^
suited forward, and Wali dL H« ^? the crowd
stone pillar of a weU "^ "" "'"'^ *» '^e
Lo4aL. Thes'rtinTrf "SusT ^ VrZ
gu«.„g kjne in their temples ^thtP ^''*" ^^
hu;^rd''ifur::d:hr Tt .°*^" ^ "> f--.
ing, and^ ki^fat It ^ ^* '^'•"' '"'"''•'g' ^riek-
s, u-i siuKmg at the house doors in their fliVht i *
last we saw the reason of the rush H„Z^ .f '
Assent District Superintendent of Polt'Tb':
twenty, had <mt t«„.*i,„- .,., . ''™' * boy of
o ^g„>„„ "urty constables and was
storm — not
lalf a dozen
'< at sea, the
n while the
rthe taziasf
the faith I'
drew their
;he hope of
erpowered,
the streets,
where the
shrieks of
t for long,
toeked the
'ulpits and
the silent
3d streets
t fire, and
findu and
the crowd
3e to the
louted in
tould be
e houses
shall be
o pieces,
r, shriek-
rht. At
lin, the
boy of
nd was
ON THE CITY WALL
317
forcing the crowd through the streets. His old gray
Police-horse showed no sign of uneasiness as it was
spurred breast-oa into the crowd, and the long dog-whip
with which he had armed himself was never still.
' They know we haven't enough Police to hold 'em,'
he cried as he passed me, mopping a out on his face.
* They know we haven't I Aren't any of the men from
the Club coming down to help? Get on, you sons
of burnt fathers ! ' The dog-whip cracked across the
writhing backs, and the constables smote afresh with
baton and gun-butt. With these passed the lights and
the shouting, and Wall Dad began to swear under his
breath. From Fort Amara shot up a single rocket;
then two side by side. It was the signal for troops.
Petitt, the Deputy Commissioner, covered with dust
and sweat, but calm and gently smiling, cantered up
the clean-swept street in rear of the main body of
the rioters. 'No one killed yet,' he shouted. 'I'll
keep 'em on the run till dawn I Don't let 'em halt,
Hugonin I Trot 'em about till the troops come.'
The science of the defence lay solely in keeping the
mob on the move. If they had breathing-space they
would halt and fire a house, and then the work of
restoring order would be more difficult, to say the least
of it. Flames have the same effect on a crowd as blood
has ou a wild beast.
Word had reached the Club and men in evening-
dress were beginning to show themselves and lend a
hand in heading off and breaking up the shouting
masses with stirrup-leathers, whips, or chance-found
staves. They were not very often attacked, for the
rioters bad sense enough to know that the death of a
European would not mean one hanging but many, and
818
OK THE CITY WALL
tr X
possibly the appearance of the thrice-dreaded ArtiUerv
The clamour m the City redoubled. The Hindu hS
descended mto the streets in real earnest and ere loni
to keep qu.et and behave themBclves- advice fofwHch
h« white beard was pulled. Then a natve officer of
would .^"t""' '"* "*'" """« »"» «P"- -a ffeol
would be be no a..:i,.7, warning all the crowd of the
•fengerof mr Iting tlv, Government. Everywhere men
ttrtr "'tf^' '"^^^^ each oh rT
the throat, howlmg and foaming with rage, or beat with
their bare hands on the doora of the houfe;
It IS a lucky thing that they are fighting with
natural weapons,' I said to Wall Dad, 'elsf we shlu d
have half the City killed.' "'**
I turned as I spoke and looked at his face. His nos-
trils were distended, his eyes were fixed, and he wTs
smiting himself softly on the breast. The c«,wd wu^d
nLIed b""''"'^"''*.-'' ^"8 "' Musalmans W
pressed by some hundred Hindu fanatics. Wall TM
left my side with an oath, and shouting: Ta sJaT'
found Wall Dad's house, and thence rode to the Fort
Once outside the City wall, the tumult sank to a duU
roar, very impressive under the stars and reflecting ^reat
o«dit on the fifty thousand angiy able-bodied mfn^ho
we« making it The troops who, at the Deputv Com!
in-.uuers insanco, had been ordered to rendezvous
\
Artillery,
ndus had
ere longf
here were
here were
Hindu, or
ligionists
for which
officer of
h effect,
1 of the
lere men
)ther by
eat with
ig with
should
His nos-
he was
poured
3 hard-
ili Dad
Basan !
i where
here I
) Fort,
a dull
r great
n who
Com-
)zyous
ON THE CITY WALL
319
quietly near the Fort, showed no signs of being im-
pressed. Two companies of Native Infantiy, a squad-
ron of Native Cavalry and a company of British Infantry
were kicking their heels in the shadow of the East face,
waitmg for orders to march in. I am sorry to say that
they were all pleased, unholily pleased, at the chance
of what they called 'a little fun.' The senior officers,
to be sure, grumbled at having been kept out of bed,
and the English troops pretended to be sulky, but
there was joy in the hearts of all the subalterns, and
whispers ran up and down the line : »No ball-cartridge
— what a beastly shame I' 'D'you think the beggars
will really stand up to us?' *'Hope I shall meet
my money-lender there. I owe him more than I can
afford.' ' Oh, they won't let us even unsheathe swords.'
» Hurrah I Up goes the fourth rocket. Fall in, there I '
The Garrison Artillery, who to the last cherished a
wild hope that they might be allowed to bombard the
City at a hundred yards' range, lined the parapet above
the East gateway and cheered themselves hoarse as the
British Infantry doubled along the road to the Main
Gate of the City. The Cavalry cantered on to the
Padshahi Gate, and the Native Infantry marched slowly
to the Gate of the Butchers. The surprise was in-
tended to be of a distinctly unpleasant nature, and to
come on top of the defeat of the Police who had been
just able to keep the Muhammadans from firing the
houses of a few leading Hindus. The bulk of the riot
lay in the north and north-west wards. The east and
south-east were by this time dark and silent, and I rode
hastily to Lalun's house for I wished to tell her to send
some one in search of Wall Dad. The house was
unUghted, but the door was open, and I cUmbed up-
320
ON THE CITY WALL
Q' I'
B' ii'.E ii
( !
I
t
"■I
'jik
stairs in the darkness. One small lamp in the white
room showed Lalun and her maid leaning half out of
the window, breathing heavily and evidently pulling at
something that refused to come.
»Thou art late — very late,' gasped Lalun without
turning her head. 'Help us now, O Fool, if thou hast
not spent thy strength howling among the tazias.
Pull! Nasibau and I can do no morel O Sahib, is
it you ? The Hindus have been hunting an old Muham-
madan round the Ditch with clubs. If they find him
again they will kill him. Help us to pull him up.'
I put my hands to the long red silk waist^cloth that
was hanging out of the nndow, and we thred pulled
and pulled with all the strength at our command.
There was something very heavy at the end, and it
swore in an unknown t3ngue as it kicked against the
City wall.
*Pull, oh, puUI' said Lalun at the last. A pair of
brown hands grasped the window-sill and a venerable
Muhammadan tumbled upon the floor, very much out
of breath. His jaws were tied up, his turban had fallen
over one eye, and he was dusty and angry.
Lalun hid her face in her hands for an instant and
said something about Wali Dad that I could not catch.
Then, to my extreme gratification, she threw her arms
round my neck and murmured pretty things. I was in
no haste to stop her; and Nasiban, being a handmaiden
of tact, turned to the big jewel-chest that stands in the
corner of the white room and rummaged among the con-
tents. The Muhammadan sat on the floor and glared.
' One service more, Sahib, since thou hast come so
opportunely,' said Lalun. ' Wilt thou * — it is ver" nice
to be thou-ed by Lalun— 'take this old man across the
X
ON THE CITY WALL
821
City — the troops are everywhere, and they might hurt
him for he is old — to the Kumharsen Gate ? There I
think he may find a carriage to take him to his house.
He 18 a friend of mine, and thou art -more than a
friend — therefore I ask this.'
Na^iban bent over the old man, tucked something
into his belt, and I raised him up, and led him into the
streets. In crossing from the east to the west of the
Uty there was no chance of avoiding the troops and
the crowd. Long before! reached the Gully of the
Horsemen I heard the shouts of the British Infan-
try crying cheeringly: 'Hutt, ye beggars! Hutt, ye
devils I Get along! Go forward, there! ' Then fol-
lowed the ringing of rifle-butts and shrieks of pain
The troops were banging the bare toes of the mob with
their gun-butts — for not a bayonet had been fixed.
My companion mumbled and jabbered as we walked on
until we were carried back by the crowi and had to
force our way to the troops. I caught him by the wrist
and felt a bangle there — the iron bangle of the Sikhs
--but I had no suspicions, for Lalun had only ten
minutes before put her arms round me. Thrice we
were carried back by the crowd, and when we made
our way past the British Infantry it was to meet the
feikh Cavalry driving another mob before them with
the butts of their lances.
' What are these dogs? ' said the old man.
' Sikhs of the Cavalry, Father,' I said, and we edged
our way up the line of horses two abreast and found
the Deputy Commissioner, his helmet smashed on his
head, surrounded by a knot of men who had come down
from thft ninK QQ Orvia4-n.i« « ^~X_1-1-- Tit,, -
--_ — ,„, «zn«TOin uuiisuiuiua ana haa iieiped
the Police mightily.
322
ON THE CITY WALL
!!
'I I
It
'We'll keep 'em on the run till dawn,' said Petitt.
' Who's your villainous friend? *
I had only time to say: 'The Protection of the
Sirkar/' when a fresh crowd flying before the Native
Infantry carried us a hundred yards nearer to the
Kumharsen Gate, and Petitt was swept away like a
shadow.
•I do not know — I cannot see — this is all new to
me I' moaned my companion. 'How many troops are
there in the City?' .
' Perhaps five hundred,' I said.
*A lakh of men beaten by five hundred — and Sikhs
among them I Surely, surely, I am an old man, but —
the Kumharsen Gate is new. Who pulled down the
stone lions? Where is the conduit? Sahib, I am a
very old man, and, alas, I — I cannot stand.' He
dropped in the shadow of the Kumharsen Gate where
there was no disturbance. A fat gentleman wearing
gold pince-nez came out of the darkness.
'You are most kind to bring my old friend,' he said
suavely. 'He is a landholder of Akala. He should
not be in a big City when there is religious excitement.
But I have a carriage here. You are <}.nte truly kind.
Will you help me to put him into the carriage ? It is
very late.'
We bundled the old man into a hired victoria that
stood close to the gate, and I turned back to the house
on the City wall. The troops were driving the people
to and fro, while the Police shouted, ' To your houses I
Get to your houses I ' and the dog-whip of the Assistant
District Superintendent cracked remorselessly. Terror-
^^*?^"> *wwwia8 clung to the stirrups of the cavaliy,
Cxjriag iLat their bouses had been robbed (which was a
ON THE CITY WALL
323
he), and Uie burly Sikh horsemen patted them on the
shoulder, and bade them return to those houses lest a
worse thing should happen. Parties of five or six
British soldiers, joining arms, swept down the side-
gullies their rifles on their backs, stamping, with shout-
ing and song, upon the toes of Hindu and Musalman.
Never was religious enthusiasm more systematically
squashed; and never were poor breakers of the peace
more utterly weary and footeore. They were routed
out of holes and corners, from behind well-pillars and
byres, and bidden to go to their houses. If they had
no houses to go to, so much the worae for their tees
On returning to Lalun's door I stumbled over a man
!!,!« V ^''^ v; ^' ™ '"^^^"^ hysterically .nd his
arms flapped like the wings of a goose. It was Wall
Dad Agnostic and Unbeliever, shoeless, turbanless, and
frothing of the mouth, the flesh on h... chest bruised
and leediiig from the vehemence with which he had
smitten himself. A broken terch-handle lay by his side
and his quivering lips murmured, 'Fa Jlaaan/ Fa
Hussam .' ' as I stooped over him. I pushed him a few
steps up the staircase, threw a pebble at Lalun's City
window and hurried home.
Most of the streets were very still, and the cold wind
that comes before the dawn whistled down them. In
the centre of the Square of the Mosque a man wm
bending over a corpse. The skull had been smashed in
by gun-butt or bamboo-stave.
'It is expedient that one man should die for the
people, said Petitt grimly, raising the shapeless head.
These brutes were beginning to show their teeth too
much/
And from afar we could hear the soldiers singing
324
ON THE CITY WALL
.i^sUi> t
*Two Lovely Black Eyes,' as they drove the remnant
of the rioters within doors.
****♦♦*»#
Of course you can guess what happened ? I was not
so clever. When the news went abroad that Khem
Singh had escaped from the Fort, I did not, since I was
then living this story, not writing it, connect myself, or
Lalun, or the fat gentleman of the gold pince-nez, with
his disappearance. Nor did it strike me that Wali Dad
was the man who should have convoyed him across the
City, or that Lalun's arms round my neck were put
there to hide the money that Nasiban gave to Kehm
Singh, and that Lalun had used me and my white face
as even a better safeguard than Wali Dad who
proved himself so untrustworthy. All that I knew at
the time was that, when Fort Amara was taken up with
the riots, Khem Singh profited by the confusion to get
away, and that his two Sikh guards also escaped.
But later on I received full enlightenment ; and so did
Khem Singh. He fled to those who knew him in the
old days, but many of them were dead and more were
changed, and all knew something of the Wrath of the
Government. He went to the young men, but the
glamour of his name had passed away, and they were
entering native regiments of Government offices, and
Khem Singh could give them neither pension, decora-
tions, nor influence — nothing but a glorious death with
their backs to the mouth of a gun. He wrote letters
and made promises, and the letters fell into bad hands,
and a wholly insignificant subordinate officer of Police
tracked them down and gained promotion thereby.
Moreover, Khem Sincrh was nlrl. onA a-n\ao,^^r^A \.^^^a„
was scarce, and he had left his silver cooking-pots in
ON THE CITY WALL
325
remnant
«
was not
-t Khem
ce I was
yself, or
lez, with
''ali Dad
ross the
ere put
Kehm
lite face
ad who
knew at
up with
i to get
d so did
i in the
re were
of the
3ut the
3y were
es, and
decora-
.th with
letters
hands,
Police
hereby.
r\*irt •i-fc w •••
«ji ami V
pots in
Fort Amara with his nice warm bedding, and the gentle-
man with the gold pince-nez was told by those who had
employed him that Khem Singh as a popular leader was
not worth the money paid.
' Great is the mercy of these fools of English I ' said
Khem Singh when the situation was put before him.
* I will go back to Fort Amara of my own free will and
gain honour. Give me good clothes to return in.'
So, at his own time, Khem Singh knocked at the
wicket-gate of the Fort and walked to the Captain and
the Subaltern, who were nearly gray-headed on account
of correspondence that daily arrived from Simla marked
' Private.'
*I have come back. Captain Sahib,' said Khem Singh.
* Put no more guards over me. It is no good out
yonder.'
A week later I saw him for the first time to my
knowledge, and he made as though there were an
understanding between us.
*It was well done. Sahib,' said he, *and greatly I
admired your astuteness in thus boldly facing the
troops when I, whom they would have doubtless torn
to pieces, was with you. Now there is a man in Fort
Ooltagarh whon* a bold man could with ease help to
escape. This is the position of the Fort as I draw it on
the sand '
But I was thinking how I had become Lalun's Vizier
after all.
Now Ready
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/"
CANADIAN COPYRIGHT EDITION
Soldiers Three The
Story of the Gadsbys
In Black and White
BY
N.L.C. - B N c
3 3286 06559009 9
Rudyard Kipling
Author of " The Day'i Wo?k," " The Seven Sc^as,"
"The Jungle Bockj, etc."
TORONTO
1899
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