diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:19:24 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:19:24 -0700 |
| commit | 9036a24290eb182d4ab9a6fe1f9f5fef0824ba29 (patch) | |
| tree | 25f181bd86cfea8a89424ca2fe4970484bdd9cb8 /old | |
Diffstat (limited to 'old')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/2569-h.htm.2021-01-27 | 13918 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/dyswk10.txt | 12391 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/dyswk10.zip | bin | 0 -> 244536 bytes |
3 files changed, 26309 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/old/2569-h.htm.2021-01-27 b/old/2569-h.htm.2021-01-27 new file mode 100644 index 0000000..edf9517 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/2569-h.htm.2021-01-27 @@ -0,0 +1,13918 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Day's Work, by Rudyard Kipling + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Day's Work, Volume 1, by Rudyard Kipling + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Day's Work, Volume 1 + +Author: Rudyard Kipling + +Release Date: December 13, 2008 [EBook #2569] +Last Updated: March 9, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DAY'S WORK, VOLUME 1 *** + + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE DAY'S WORK + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Rudyard Kipling + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> THE BRIDGE-BUILDERS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> A WALKING DELEGATE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> THE SHIP THAT FOUND HERSELF </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> THE TOMB OF HIS ANCESTORS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> THE DEVIL AND THE DEEP SEA </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART1"> PART + I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART2"> PART + II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> .007 </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> THE MALTESE CAT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> “BREAD UPON THE WATERS” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> AN ERROR IN THE FOURTH DIMENSION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> MY SUNDAY AT HOME </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> THE BRUSHWOOD BOY </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + THE BRIDGE-BUILDERS + </h2> + <p> + The least that Findlayson, of the Public Works Department, expected was a + C. I. E.; he dreamed of a C. S. I.: indeed, his friends told him that he + deserved more. For three years he had endured heat and cold, + disappointment, discomfort, danger, and disease, with responsibility + almost too heavy for one pair of shoulders; and day by day, through that + time, the great Kashi Bridge over the Ganges had grown under his charge. + Now, in less than three months, if all went well, his Excellency the + Viceroy would open the bridge in state, an archbishop would bless it, and + the first trainload of soldiers would come over it, and there would be + speeches. + </p> + <p> + Findlayson, C. E., sat in his trolley on a construction line that ran + along one of the main revetments—the huge stone-faced banks that + flared away north and south for three miles on either side of the river—and + permitted himself to think of the end. With its approaches, his work was + one mile and three-quarters fin length; a lattice-girder bridge, trussed + with the Findlayson truss, standing on seven-and-twenty brick pies. Each + one of those piers was twenty-four feet in diameter, capped with red Agra + stone and sunk eighty feet below the shifting sand of the Ganges' bed. + Above them was a railway-line fifteen feet broad; above that, again, a + cart-road of eighteen feet, flanked with footpaths. At either end rose + towers of red brick, loopholed for musketry and pierced for big guns, and + the ramp of the road was being pushed forward to their haunches. The raw + earth-ends were crawling and alive with hundreds upon hundreds of tiny + asses climbing out of the yawning borrow-pit below with sackfuls of stuff; + and the hot afternoon air was filled with the noise of hooves, the rattle + of the drivers' sticks, and the swish and roll-down of the dirt. The river + was very low, and on the dazzling white sand between the three centre + piers stood squat cribs of railway-sleepers, filled within and daubed + without with mud, to support the last of the girders as those were riveted + up. In the little deep water left by the drought, an overhead-crane + travelled to and fro along its spile-pier, jerking sections of iron into + place, snorting and backing and grunting as an elephant grunts in the + timber-yard. Riveters by the hundred swarmed about the lattice side-work + and the iron roof of the railway-line, hung from invisible staging under + the bellies of the girders, clustered round the throats of the piers, and + rode on the overhang of the footpath-stanchions; their fire-pots and the + spurts of flame that answered each hammer-stroke showing no more than pale + yellow in the sun's glare. East and west and north and south the + construction-trains rattled and shrieked up and down the embankments, the + piled trucks of brown and white stone banging behind them till the + side-boards were unpinned, and with a roar and a grumble a few thousand + tons more material were flung out to hold the river in place. + </p> + <p> + Findlayson, C. E., turned on his trolley and looked over the face of the + country that he had changed for seven miles around. Looked back on the + humming village of five thousand workmen; up stream and down, along the + vista of spurs and sand; across the river to the far piers, lessening in + the haze; overhead to the guard-towers—and only he knew how strong + those were—and with a sigh of contentment saw that his work was + good. There stood his bridge before him in the sunlight, lacking only a + few weeks' work on the girders of the three middle piers—his bridge, + raw and ugly as original sin, but pukka—permanent—to endure + when all memory of the builder, yea, even of the splendid Findlayson + truss, had perished. Practically, the thing was done. + </p> + <p> + Hitchcock, his assistant, cantered along the line on a little + switch-tailed Kabuli pony who through long practice could have trotted + securely over a trestle, and nodded to his chief. + </p> + <p> + “All but,” said he, with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “I've been thinking about it,” the senior answered. “Not half a bad job + for two men, is it?” + </p> + <p> + “One-and a half. Gad, what a Cooper's Hill cub I was when I came on the + works!” Hitchcock felt very old in the crowded experiences of the past + three years, that had taught him power and responsibility. + </p> + <p> + “You were rather a colt,” said Findlayson. “I wonder how you'll like going + back to office-work when this job's over.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall hate it!” said the young man, and as he went on his eye followed + Findlayson's, and he muttered, “Isn't it damned good?” + </p> + <p> + “I think we'll go up the service together,” Findlayson said to himself. + “You're too good a youngster to waste on another man. Cub thou wart; + assistant thou art. Personal assistant, and at Simla, thou shalt be, if + any credit comes to me out of the business!” + </p> + <p> + Indeed; the burden of the work had fallen altogether on Findlayson and his + assistant, the young man whom he had chosen because of his rawness to + break to his own needs. There were labour contractors by the half-hundred—fitters + and riveters, European, borrowed from the railway workshops, with, + perhaps, twenty white and half-caste subordinates to direct, under + direction, the bevies of workmen—but none knew better than these + two, who trusted each other, how the underlings were not to be trusted. + They had been tried many times in sudden crises—by slipping of + booms, by breaking of tackle, failure of cranes, and the wrath of the + river—but no stress had brought to light any man among men whom + Findlayson and Hitchcock would have honoured by working as remorselessly + as they worked themselves. Findlayson thought it over from the beginning: + the months of office-work destroyed at a blow when the Government of + India, at the last moment, added two feet to the width of the bridge, + under the impression that bridges were cut out of paper, and so brought to + ruin at least half an acre of calculations—and Hitchcock, new to + disappointment, buried his head in his arms and wept; the heart-breaking + delays over the filling of the contracts in England; the futile + correspondences hinting at great wealth of commissions if one, only one, + rather doubtful consignment were passed; the war that followed the + refusal; the careful, polite obstruction at the other end that followed + the war, till young Hitchcock, putting one month's leave to another month, + and borrowing ten days from Findlayson, spent his poor little savings of a + year in a wild dash to London, and there, as his own tongue asserted and + the later consignments proved, put the fear of God into a man so great + that he feared only Parliament and said so till Hitchcock wrought with him + across his own dinner-table, and—he feared the Kashi Bridge and all + who spoke in its name. Then there was the cholera that came in the night + to the village by the bridge works; and after the cholera smote the + Smallpox. The fever they had always with them. Hitchcock had been + appointed a magistrate of the third class with whipping powers, for the + better government of the community, and Findlayson watched him wield his + powers temperately, learning what to overlook and what to look after. It + was a long, long reverie, and it covered storm, sudden freshets, death in + every manner and shape, violent and awful rage against red tape half + frenzying a mind that knows it should be busy on other things; drought, + sanitation, finance; birth, wedding, burial, and riot in the village of + twenty warring castes; argument, expostulation, persuasion, and the blank + despair that a man goes to bed upon, thankful that his rifle is all in + pieces in the gun-case. Behind everything rose the black frame of the + Kashi Bridge—plate by plate, girder by girder, span by span-and each + pier of it recalled Hitchcock, the all-round man, who had stood by his + chief without failing from the very first to this last. + </p> + <p> + So the bridge was two men's work—unless one counted Peroo, as Peroo + certainly counted himself. He was a Lascar, a Kharva from Bulsar, familiar + with every port between Rockhampton and London, who had risen to the rank + of sarang on the British India boats, but wearying of routine musters and + clean clothes, had thrown up the service and gone inland, where men of his + calibre were sure of employment. For his knowledge of tackle and the + handling of heavy weights, Peroo was worth almost any price he might have + chosen to put upon his services; but custom decreed the wage of the + overhead men, and Peroo was not within many silver pieces of his proper + value. Neither running water nor extreme heights made him afraid; and, as + an ex-serang, he knew how to hold authority. No piece of iron was so big + or so badly placed that Peroo could not devise a tackle to lift it—a + loose-ended, sagging arrangement, rigged with a scandalous amount of + talking, but perfectly equal to the work in hand. It was Peroo who had + saved the girder of Number Seven pier from destruction when the new wire + rope jammed in the eye of the crane, and the huge plate tilted in its + slings, threatening to slide out sideways. Then the native workmen lost + their heads with great shoutings, and Hitchcock's right arm was broken by + a falling T-plate, and he buttoned it up in his coat and swooned, and came + to and directed for four hours till Peroo, from the top of the crane, + reported “All's well,” and the plate swung home. There was no one like + Peroo, serang, to lash, and guy, and hold to control the donkey-engines, + to hoist a fallen locomotive craftily out of the borrow-pit into which it + had tumbled; to strip, and dive, if need be, to see how the concrete + blocks round the piers stood the scouring of Mother Gunga, or to adventure + up-stream on a monsoon night and report on the state of the + embankment-facings. He would interrupt the field-councils of Findlayson + and Hitchcock without fear, till his wonderful English, or his still more + wonderful lingua franca, half Portuguese and half Malay, ran out and he + was forced to take string and show the knots that he would recommend. He + controlled his own gang of tacklemen—mysterious relatives from Kutch + Mandvi gathered month by month and tried to the uttermost. No + consideration of family or kin allowed Peroo to keep weak hands or a giddy + head on the pay-roll. “My honour is the honour of this bridge,” he would + say to the about-to-be-dismissed. “What do I care for your honour? Go and + work on a steamer. That is all you are fit for.” + </p> + <p> + The little cluster of huts where he and his gang lived centred round the + tattered dwelling of a sea-priest—one who had never set foot on + black water, but had been chosen as ghostly counsellor by two generations + of sea-rovers all unaffected by port missions or those creeds which are + thrust upon sailors by agencies along Thames bank. The priest of the + Lascara had nothing to do with their caste, or indeed with anything at + all. He ate the offerings of his church, and slept and smoked, and slept + again “for,” said Peroo, who had haled him a thousand miles inland, “he is + a very holy man. He never cares what you eat so long as you do not eat + beef, and that is good, because on land we worship Shiva, we Kharvas; but + at sea on the Kumpani's boats we attend strictly to the orders of the + Burra Malum [the first mate], and on this bridge we observe what Finlinson + Sahib says.” + </p> + <p> + Finlinson Sahib had that day given orders to clear the scaffolding from + the guard-tower on the right bank, and Peroo with his mates was casting + loose and lowering down the bamboo poles and planks as swiftly as ever + they had whipped the cargo out of a coaster. + </p> + <p> + From his trolley he could hear the whistle of the serang's silver pipe and + the creak and clatter of the pulleys. Peroo was standing on the topmost + coping of the tower, clad in the blue dungaree of his abandoned service, + and as Findlayson motioned to him to be careful, for his was no life to + throw away, he gripped the last pole, and, shading his eyes ship-fashion, + answered with the long-drawn wail of the fo'c'sle lookout: “Ham dekhta + hai” (“I am looking out”). Findlayson laughed and then sighed. It was + years since he had seen a steamer, and he was sick for home. As his + trolley passed under the tower, Peroo descended by a rope, ape-fashion, + and cried: “It looks well now, Sahib. Our bridge is all but done. What + think you Mother Gunga will say when the rail runs over?” + </p> + <p> + “She has said little so far. It was never Mother Gunga that delayed us.” + </p> + <p> + “There is always time for her; and none the less there has been delay. Has + the Sahib forgotten last autumn's flood, when the stoneboats were sunk + without warning—or only a half-day's warning?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but nothing save a big flood could hurt us now. The spurs are + holding well on the west bank.” + </p> + <p> + “Mother Gunga eats great allowances. There is always room for more stone + on the revetments. I tell this to the Chota Sahib”—he meant + Hitchcock— “and he laughs.” + </p> + <p> + “No matter, Peroo. Another year thou wilt be able to build a bridge in + thine own fashion.” + </p> + <p> + The Lascar grinned. “Then it will not be in this way—with stonework + sunk under water, as the Quetta was sunk. I like sus-suspen-sheen bridges + that fly from bank to bank, with one big step, like a gang-plank. Then no + water can hurt. When does the Lord Sahib come to open the bridge?” + </p> + <p> + “In three months, when the weather is cooler.” + </p> + <p> + “Ho! ho! He is like the Burra Malum. He sleeps below while the work is + being done. Then he comes upon the quarter-deck and touches with his + finger, and says: 'This is not clean! Dam jibboonwallah!'” + </p> + <p> + “But the Lord Sahib does not call me a dam jibboonwallah, Peroo.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Sahib; but he does not come on deck till the work is all finished. + Even the Burra Malum of the Nerbudda said once at Tuticorin—” + </p> + <p> + “Bah! Go! I am busy.” + </p> + <p> + “I, also!” said Peroo, with an unshaken countenance. “May I take the light + dinghy now and row along the spurs?” + </p> + <p> + “To hold them with thy hands? They are, I think, sufficiently heavy.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, Sahib. It is thus. At sea, on the Black Water, we have room to be + blown up and down without care. Here we have no room at all. Look you, we + have put the river into a dock, and run her between stone sills.” + </p> + <p> + Findlayson smiled at the “we.” + </p> + <p> + “We have bitted and bridled her. She is not like the sea, that can beat + against a soft beach. She is Mother Gunga—in irons.” His voice fell + a little. + </p> + <p> + “Peroo, thou hast been up and down the world more even than I. Speak true + talk, now. How much dolt thou in thy heart believe of Mother Gunga?” + </p> + <p> + “All that our priest says. London is London, Sahib. Sydney is Sydney, and + Port Darwin is Port Darwin. Also Mother Gunga is Mother Gunga, and when I + come back to her banks I know this and worship. In London I did poojah to + the big temple by the river for the sake of the God within . . . . Yes, I + will not take the cushions in the dinghy.” + </p> + <p> + Findlayson mounted his horse and trotted to the shed of a bungalow that he + shared with his assistant. The place had become home to him in the last + three years. He had grilled in the heat, sweated in the rains, and + shivered with fever under the rude thatch roof; the lime-wash beside the + door was covered with rough drawings and formulae, and the sentry-path + trodden in the matting of the verandah showed where he had walked alone. + There is no eight-hour limit to an engineer's work, and the evening meal + with Hitchcock was eaten booted and spurred: over their cigars they + listened to the hum of the village as the gangs came up from the river-bed + and the lights began to twinkle. + </p> + <p> + “Peroo has gone up the spurs in your dinghy. He's taken a couple of + nephews with him, and he's lolling in the stern like a commodore,” said + Hitchcock. + </p> + <p> + “That's all right. He's got something on his mind. You'd think that ten + years in the British India boats would have knocked most of his religion + out of him.” + </p> + <p> + “So it has,” said Hitchcock, chuckling. “I overheard him the other day in + the middle of a most atheistical talk with that fat old guru of theirs. + Peroo denied the efficacy of prayer; and wanted the guru to go to sea and + watch a gale out with him, and see if he could stop a monsoon.” + </p> + <p> + “All the same, if you carried off his gurus he'd leave us like a shot. He + was yarning away to me about praying to the dome of St. Paul's when he was + in London.” + </p> + <p> + “He told me that the first time he went into the engine-room of a steamer, + when he was a boy, he prayed to the low-pressure cylinder.” + </p> + <p> + “Not half a bad thing to pray to, either. He's propitiating his own Gods + now, and he wants to know what Mother Gunga will think of a bridge being + run across her. Who's there?” A shadow darkened the doorway, and a + telegram was put into Hitchcock's hand. + </p> + <p> + “She ought to be pretty well used to it by this time. Only a tar. It ought + to be Ralli's answer about the new rivets. . . . Great Heavens!” Hitchcock + jumped to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” said the senior, and took the form. “That's what Mother + Gunga thinks, is it,” he said, reading. “Keep cool, young'un. We've got + all our work cut out for us. Let's see. Muir wired half an hour ago: + 'Floods on the Ramgunga. Look out.' Well, that gives us—one, two—nine + and a half for the flood to reach Melipur Ghaut and seven's sixteen and a + half to Lataoli—say fifteen hours before it comes down to us.” + </p> + <p> + “Curse that hill-fed sewer of a Ramgunga! Findlayson, this is two months + before anything could have been expected, and the left bank is littered up + with stuff still. Two full months before the time!” + </p> + <p> + “That's why it comes. I've only known Indian rivers for five-and-twenty + years, and I don't pretend to understand. Here comes another tar.” + Findlayson opened the telegram. “Cockran, this time, from the Ganges + Canal: 'Heavy rains here. Bad.' He might have saved the last word. Well, + we don't want to know any more. We've got to work the gangs all night and + clean up the river-bed. You'll take the east bank and work out to meet me + in the middle. Get every thing that floats below the bridge: we shall have + quite enough rivercraft coming down adrift anyhow, without letting the + stone-boats ram the piers. What have you got on the east bank that needs + looking after.” + </p> + <p> + “Pontoon—one big pontoon with the overhead crane on it. T'other + overhead crane on the mended pontoon, with the cart-road rivets from + Twenty to Twenty-three piers—two construction lines, and a + turning-spur. The pilework must take its chance,” said Hitchcock. + </p> + <p> + “All right. Roll up everything you can lay hands on. We'll give the gang + fifteen minutes more to eat their grub.” + </p> + <p> + Close to the verandah stood a big night-gong, never used except for flood, + or fire in the village. Hitchcock had called for a fresh horse, and was + off to his side of the bridge when Findlayson took the cloth-bound stick + and smote with the rubbing stroke that brings out the full thunder of the + metal. + </p> + <p> + Long before the last rumble ceased every night-gong in the village had + taken up the warning. To these were added the hoarse screaming of conches + in the little temples; the throbbing of drums and tom-toms; and, from the + European quarters, where the riveters lived, McCartney's bugle, a weapon + of offence on Sundays and festivals, brayed desperately, calling to + “Stables.” Engine after engine toiling home along the spurs at the end of + her day's work whistled in answer till the whistles were answered from the + far bank. Then the big gong thundered thrice for a sign that it was flood + and not fire; conch, drum, and whistle echoed the call, and the village + quivered to the sound of bare feet running upon soft earth. The order in + all cases was to stand by the day's work and wait instructions. The gangs + poured by in the dusk; men stopping to knot a loin-cloth or fasten a + sandal; gang-foremen shouting to their subordinates as they ran or paused + by the tool-issue sheds for bars and mattocks; locomotives creeping down + their tracks wheel-deep in the crowd; till the brown torrent disappeared + into the dusk of the river-bed, raced over the pilework, swarmed along the + lattices, clustered by the cranes, and stood still each man in his place. + </p> + <p> + Then the troubled beating of the gong carried the order to take up + everything and bear it beyond highwater mark, and the flare-lamps broke + out by the hundred between the webs of dull iron as the riveters began a + night's work, racing against the flood that was to come. The girders of + the three centre piers—those that stood on the cribs—were all + but in position. They needed just as many rivets as could be driven into + them, for the flood would assuredly wash out their supports, and the + ironwork would settle down on the caps of stone if they were not blocked + at the ends. A hundred crowbars strained at the sleepers of the temporary + line that fed the unfinished piers. It was heaved up in lengths, loaded + into trucks, and backed up the bank beyond flood-level by the groaning + locomotives. The tool-sheds on the sands melted away before the attack of + shouting armies, and with them went the stacked ranks of Government + stores, iron-bound boxes of rivets, pliers, cutters, duplicate parts of + the riveting-machines, spare pumps and chains. The big crane would be the + last to be shifted, for she was hoisting all the heavy stuff up to the + main structure of the bridge. The concrete blocks on the fleet of + stone-boats were dropped overside, where there was any depth of water, to + guard the piers, and the empty boats themselves were poled under the + bridge down-stream. It was here that Peroo's pipe shrilled loudest, for + the first stroke of the big gong had brought the dinghy back at racing + speed, and Peroo and his people were stripped to the waist, working for + the honour and credit which are better than life. + </p> + <p> + “I knew she would speak,” he cried. “I knew, but the telegraph gives us + good warning. O sons of unthinkable begetting—children of + unspeakable shame—are we here for the look of the thing?” It was two + feet of wire-rope frayed at the ends, and it did wonders as Peroo leaped + from gunnel to gunnel, shouting the language of the sea. + </p> + <p> + Findlayson was more troubled for the stone-boats than anything else. + McCartney, with his gangs, was blocking up the ends of the three doubtful + spans, but boats adrift, if the flood chanced to be a high one, might + endanger the girders; and there was a very fleet in the shrunken channel. + </p> + <p> + “Get them behind the swell of the guard-tower,” he shouted down to Peroo. + “It will be dead-water there. Get them below the bridge.” + </p> + <p> + “Accha! [Very good.] I know; we are mooring them with wire-rope,” was the + answer. “Heh! I Listen to the Chota Sahib. He is working hard.” + </p> + <p> + From across the river came an almost continuous whistling of locomotives, + backed by the rumble of stone. Hitchcock at the last minute was spending a + few hundred more trucks of Tarakee stone in reinforcing his spurs and + embankments. + </p> + <p> + “The bridge challenges Mother Gunga,” said Peroo, with a laugh. “But when + she talks I know whose voice will be the loudest.” + </p> + <p> + For hours the naked men worked, screaming and shouting under the lights. + It was a hot, moonless night; the end of it was darkened by clouds and a + sudden squall that made Findlayson very grave. + </p> + <p> + “She moves!” said Peroo, just before the dawn. “Mother Gunga is awake! + Hear!” He dipped his hand over the side of a boat and the current mumbled + on it. A little wave hit the side of a pier with a crisp slap. + </p> + <p> + “Six hours before her time,” said Findlayson, mopping his forehead + savagely. “Now we can't depend on anything. We'd better clear all hands + out of the river-bed.” + </p> + <p> + Again the big gong beat, and a second time there was the rushing of naked + feet on earth and ringing iron; the clatter of tools ceased. In the + silence, men heard the dry yawn of water crawling over thirsty sand. + </p> + <p> + Foreman after foreman shouted to Findlayson, who had posted himself by the + guard-tower, that his section of the river-bed had been cleaned out, and + when the last voice dropped Findlayson hurried over the bridge till the + iron plating of the permanent way gave place to the temporary plank-walk + over the three centre piers, and there he met Hitchcock. + </p> + <p> + “All clear your side?” said Findlayson. The whisper rang in the box of + latticework. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and the east channel's filling now. We're utterly out of our + reckoning. When is this thing down on us?” + </p> + <p> + “There's no saying. She's filling as fast as she can. Look!” Findlayson + pointed to the planks below his feet, where the sand, burned and defiled + by months of work, was beginning to whisper and fizz. + </p> + <p> + “What orders?” said Hitchcock. + </p> + <p> + “Call the roll—count stores—sit on your hunkers—and pray + for the bridge. That's all I can think of. Good night. Don't risk your + life trying to fish out anything that may go down-stream.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'll be as prudent as you are! 'Night. Heavens, how she's filling! + Here's the rain in earnest!” Findlayson picked his way back to his bank, + sweeping the last of McCartney's riveters before him. The gangs had spread + themselves along the embankments, regardless of the cold rain of the dawn, + and there they waited for the flood. Only Peroo kept his men together + behind the swell of the guard-tower, where the stone-boats lay tied fore + and aft with hawsers, wire-rope, and chains. + </p> + <p> + A shrill wail ran along the line, growing to a yell, half fear and half + wonder: the face of the river whitened from bank to bank between the stone + facings, and the faraway spurs went out in spouts of foam. Mother Gunga + had come bank-high in haste, and a wall of chocolate-coloured water was + her messenger. There was a shriek above the roar of the water, the + complaint of the spans coming down on their blocks as the cribs were + whirled out from under their bellies. The stone-boats groaned and ground + each other in the eddy that swung round the abutment, and their clumsy + masts rose higher and higher against the dim sky-line. + </p> + <p> + “Before she was shut between these walls we knew what she would do. Now + she is thus cramped God only knows what she will do!” said Peroo, watching + the furious turmoil round the guard-tower. “Ohe! Fight, then! Fight hard, + for it is thus that a woman wears herself out.” + </p> + <p> + But Mother Gunga would not fight as Peroo desired. After the first + down-stream plunge there came no more walls of water, but the river lifted + herself bodily, as a snake when she drinks in midsummer, plucking and + fingering along the revetments, and banking up behind the piers till even + Findlayson began to recalculate the strength of his work. + </p> + <p> + When day came the village gasped. “Only last night,” men said, turning to + each other, “it was as a town in the river-bed! Look now!” + </p> + <p> + And they looked and wondered afresh at the deep water, the racing water + that licked the throat of the piers. The farther bank was veiled by rain, + into which the bridge ran out and vanished; the spurs up-stream were + marked by no more than eddies and spoutings, and down-stream the pent + river, once freed of her guide-lines, had spread like a sea to the + horizon. Then hurried by, rolling in the water, dead men and oxen + together, with here and there a patch of thatched roof that melted when it + touched a pier. + </p> + <p> + “Big flood,” said Peroo, and Findlayson nodded. It was as big a flood as + he had any wish to watch. His bridge would stand what was upon her now, + but not very much more, and if by any of a thousand chances there happened + to be a weakness in the embankments, Mother Gunga would carry his honour + to the sea with the other raffle. Worst of all, there was nothing to do + except to sit still; and Findlayson sat still under his macintosh till his + helmet became pulp on his head, and his boots were over-ankle in mire. He + took no count of time, for the river was marking the hours, inch by inch + and foot by foot, along the embankment, and he listened, numb and hungry, + to the straining of the stone-boats, the hollow thunder under the piers, + and the hundred noises that make the full note of a flood. Once a dripping + servant brought him food, but he could not eat; and once he thought that + he heard a faint toot from a locomotive across the river, and then he + smiled. The bridge's failure would hurt his assistant not a little, but + Hitchcock was a young man with his big work yet to do. For himself the + crash meant everything—everything that made a hard life worth the + living. They would say, the men of his own profession. . . he remembered + the half pitying things that he himself had said when Lockhart's new + waterworks burst and broke down in brickheaps and sludge, and Lockhart's + spirit broke in him and he died. He remembered what he himself had said + when the Sumao Bridge went out in the big cyclone by the sea; and most he + remembered poor Hartopp's face three weeks later, when the shame had + marked it. His bridge was twice the size of Hartopp's, and it carried the + Findlayson truss as well as the new pier-shoe—the Findlayson bolted + shoe. There were no excuses in his service. Government might listen, + perhaps, but his own kind would judge him by his bridge, as that stood or + fell. He went over it in his head, plate by plate, span by span, brick by + brick, pier by pier, remembering, comparing, estimating, and + recalculating, lest there should be any mistake; and through the long + hours and through the flights of formulae that danced and wheeled before + him a cold fear would come to pinch his heart. His side of the sum was + beyond question; but what man knew Mother Gunga's arithmetic? Even as he + was making all sure by the multiplication-table, the river might be + scooping a pot-hole to the very bottom of any one of those eighty-foot + piers that carried his reputation. Again a servant came to him with food, + but his mouth was dry, and he could only drink and return to the decimals + in his brain. And the river was still rising. Peroo, in a mat + shelter-coat, crouched at his feet, watching now his face and now the face + of the river, but saying nothing. + </p> + <p> + At last the Lascar rose and floundered through the mud towards the + village, but he was careful to leave an ally to watch the boats. + </p> + <p> + Presently he returned, most irreverently driving before him the priest of + his creed—a fat old man, with a grey beard that whipped the wind + with the wet cloth that blew over his shoulder. Never was seen so + lamentable a guru. + </p> + <p> + “What good are offerings and little kerosene lamps and dry grain,” shouted + Peroo, “if squatting in the mud is all that thou canst do? Thou hast dealt + long with the Gods when they were contented and well-wishing. Now they are + angry. Speak to them!” + </p> + <p> + “What is a man against the wrath of Gods?” whined the priest, cowering as + the wind took him. “Let me go to the temple, and I will pray there.” + </p> + <p> + “Son of a pig, pray here! Is there no return for salt fish and curry + powder and dried onions? Call aloud! Tell Mother Gunga we have had enough. + Bid her be still for the night. I cannot pray, but I have been serving in + the Kumpani's boats, and when men did not obey my orders I—” A + flourish of the wire-rope colt rounded the sentence, and the priest, + breaking free from his disciple, fled to the village. + </p> + <p> + “Fat pig!” said Peroo. “After all that we have done for him! When the + flood is down I will see to it that we get a new guru. Finlinson Sahib, it + darkens for night now, and since yesterday nothing has been eaten. Be + wise, Sahib. No man can endure watching and great thinking on an empty + belly. Lie down, Sahib. The river will do what the river will do.” + </p> + <p> + “The bridge is mine; I cannot leave it.” + </p> + <p> + “Wilt thou hold it up with thy hands, then?” said Peroo, laughing. “I was + troubled for my boats and sheers before the flood came. Now we are in the + hands of the Gods. The Sahib will not eat and lie down? Take these, then. + They are meat and good toddy together, and they kill all weariness, + besides the fever that follows the rain. I have eaten nothing else to-day + at all.” + </p> + <p> + He took a small tin tobacco-box from his sodden waistbelt and thrust it + into Findlayson's hand, saying, “Nay, do not be afraid. It is no more than + opium—clean Malwa opium!” + </p> + <p> + Findlayson shook two or three of the dark-brown pellets into his hand, and + hardly knowing what he did, swallowed them. The stuff was at least a good + guard against fever—the fever that was creeping upon him out of the + wet mud—and he had seen what Peroo could do in the stewing mists of + autumn on the strength of a dose from the tin box. + </p> + <p> + Peroo nodded with bright eyes. “In a little—in a little the Sahib + will find that he thinks well again. I too will—” He dived into his + treasure-box, resettled the rain-coat over his head, and squatted down to + watch the boats. It was too dark now to see beyond the first pier, and the + night seemed to have given the river new strength. Findlayson stood with + his chin on his chest, thinking. There was one point about one of the + piers—the seventh—that he had not fully settled in his mind. + The figures would not shape themselves to the eye except one by one and at + enormous intervals of time. There was a sound rich and mellow in his ears + like the deepest note of a double-bass—an entrancing sound upon + which he pondered for several hours, as it seemed. Then Peroo was at his + elbow, shouting that a wire hawser had snapped and the stone-boats were + loose. Findlayson saw the fleet open and swing out fanwise to a long-drawn + shriek of wire straining across gunnels. + </p> + <p> + “A tree hit them. They will all go,” cried Peroo. “The main hawser has + parted. What does the Sahib do?” + </p> + <p> + An immensely complex plan had suddenly flashed into Findlayson's mind. He + saw the ropes running from boat to boat in straight lines and angles—each + rope a line of white fire. But there was one rope which was the master + rope. He could see that rope. If he could pull it once, it was absolutely + and mathematically certain that the disordered fleet would reassemble + itself in the backwater behind the guard-tower. But why, he wondered, was + Peroo clinging so desperately to his waist as he hastened down the bank? + It was necessary to put the Lascar aside, gently and slowly, because it + was necessary to save the boats, and, further, to demonstrate the extreme + ease of the problem that looked so difficult. And then—but it was of + no conceivable importance—a wirerope raced through his hand, burning + it, the high bank disappeared, and with it all the slowly dispersing + factors of the problem. He was sitting in the rainy darkness—sitting + in a boat that spun like a top, and Peroo was standing over him. + </p> + <p> + “I had forgotten,” said the Lascar, slowly, “that to those fasting and + unused, the opium is worse than any wine. Those who die in Gunga go to the + Gods. Still, I have no desire to present myself before such great ones. + Can the Sahib swim?” + </p> + <p> + “What need? He can fly—fly as swiftly as the wind,” was the thick + answer. + </p> + <p> + “He is mad!” muttered Peroo, under his breath. “And he threw me aside like + a bundle of dung-cakes. Well, he will not know his death. The boat cannot + live an hour here even if she strike nothing. It is not good to look at + death with a clear eye.” + </p> + <p> + He refreshed himself again from the tin box, squatted down in the bows of + the reeling, pegged, and stitched craft, staring through the mist at the + nothing that was there. A warm drowsiness crept over Findlayson, the Chief + Engineer, whose duty was with his bridge. The heavy raindrops struck him + with a thousand tingling little thrills, and the weight of all time since + time was made hung heavy on his eyelids. He thought and perceived that he + was perfectly secure, for the water was so solid that a man could surely + step out upon it, and, standing still with his legs apart to keep his + balance—this was the most important point—would be borne with + great and easy speed to the shore. But yet a better plan came to him. It + needed only an exertion of will for the soul to hurl the body ashore as + wind drives paper, to waft it kite-fashion to the bank. Thereafter—the + boat spun dizzily—suppose the high wind got under the freed body? + Would it tower up like a kite and pitch headlong on the far-away sands, or + would it duck about, beyond control, through all eternity? Findlayson + gripped the gunnel to anchor himself, for it seemed that he was on the + edge of taking the flight before he had settled all his plans. Opium has + more effect on the white man than the black. Peroo was only comfortably + indifferent to accidents. “She cannot live,” he grunted. “Her seams open + already. If she were even a dinghy with oars we could have ridden it out; + but a box with holes is no good. Finlinson Sahib, she fills.” + </p> + <p> + “Accha! I am going away. Come thou also.” + </p> + <p> + In his mind, Findlayson had already escaped from the boat, and was + circling high in air to find a rest for the sole of his foot. His body—he + was really sorry for its gross helplessness—lay in the stern, the + water rushing about its knees. + </p> + <p> + “How very ridiculous!” he said to himself, from his eyrie—“that is + Findlayson—chief of the Kashi Bridge. The poor beast is going to be + drowned, too. Drowned when it's close to shore. I'm—I'm onshore + already. Why doesn't it come along.” + </p> + <p> + To his intense disgust, he found his soul back in his body again, and that + body spluttering and choking in deep water. The pain of the reunion was + atrocious, but it was necessary, also, to fight for the body. He was + conscious of grasping wildly at wet sand, and striding prodigiously, as + one strides in a dream, to keep foothold in the swirling water, till at + last he hauled himself clear of the hold of the river, and dropped, + panting, on wet earth. + </p> + <p> + “Not this night,” said Peroo, in his ear. “The Gods have protected us.” + The Lascar moved his feet cautiously, and they rustled among dried stumps. + “This is some island of last year's indigo-crop,” he went on. “We shall + find no men here; but have great care, Sahib; all the snakes of a hundred + miles have been flooded out. Here comes the lightning, on the heels of the + wind. Now we shall be able to look; but walk carefully.” + </p> + <p> + Findlayson was far and far beyond any fear of snakes, or indeed any merely + human emotion. He saw, after he had rubbed the water from his eyes, with + an immense clearness, and trod, so it seemed to himself, with + world-encompassing strides. Somewhere in the night of time he had built a + bridge—a bridge that spanned illimitable levels of shining seas; but + the Deluge had swept it away, leaving this one island under heaven for + Findlayson and his companion, sole survivors of the breed of Man. + </p> + <p> + An incessant lightning, forked and blue, showed all that there was to be + seen on the little patch in the flood—a clump of thorn, a clump of + swaying creaking bamboos, and a grey gnarled peepul overshadowing a Hindoo + shrine, from whose dome floated a tattered red flag. The holy man whose + summer resting-place it was had long since abandoned it, and the weather + had broken the red-daubed image of his god. The two men stumbled, heavy + limbed and heavy-eyed, over the ashes of a brick-set cooking-place, and + dropped down under the shelter of the branches, while the rain and river + roared together. + </p> + <p> + The stumps of the indigo crackled, and there was a smell of cattle, as a + huge and dripping Brahminee bull shouldered his way under the tree. The + flashes revealed the trident mark of Shiva on his flank, the insolence of + head and hump, the luminous stag-like eyes, the brow crowned with a wreath + of sodden marigold blooms, and the silky dewlap that almost swept the + ground. There was a noise behind him of other beasts coming up from the + floodline through the thicket, a sound of heavy feet and deep breathing. + </p> + <p> + “Here be more beside ourselves,” said Findlayson, his head against the + tree-pole, looking through half-shut eyes, wholly at ease. + </p> + <p> + “Truly,” said Peroo, thickly, “and no small ones.” + </p> + <p> + “What are they, then? I do not see clearly.” + </p> + <p> + “The Gods. Who else? Look!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, true! The Gods surely—the Gods.” Findlayson smiled as his head + fell forward on his chest. Peroo was eminently right. After the Flood, who + should be alive in the land except the Gods that made it—the Gods to + whom his village prayed nightly—the Gods who were in all men's + mouths and about all men's ways. He could not raise his head or stir a + finger for the trance that held him, and Peroo was smiling vacantly at the + lightning. + </p> + <p> + The Bull paused by the shrine, his head lowered to the damp earth. A green + Parrot in the branches preened his wet wings and screamed against the + thunder as the circle under the tree filled with the shifting shadows of + beasts. There was a black Buck at the Bull's heels—such a Buck as + Findlayson in his far-away life upon earth might have seen in dreams—a + Buck with a royal head, ebon back, silver belly, and gleaming straight + horns. Beside him, her head bowed to the ground, the green eyes burning + under the heavy brows, with restless tail switching the dead grass, paced + a Tigress, full-bellied and deep-jowled. + </p> + <p> + The Bull crouched beside the shrine, and there leaped from the darkness a + monstrous grey Ape, who seated himself man-wise in the place of the fallen + image, and the rain spilled like jewels from the hair of his neck and + shoulders. + </p> + <p> + Other shadows came and went behind the circle, among them a drunken Man + flourishing staff and drinking-bottle. Then a hoarse bellow broke out from + near the ground. “The flood lessens even now,” it cried. “Hour by hour the + water falls, and their bridge still stands!” + </p> + <p> + “My bridge,” said Findlayson to himself. “That must be very old work now. + What have the Gods to do with my bridge?” + </p> + <p> + His eyes rolled in the darkness following the roar. A Mugger—the + blunt-nosed, ford-haunting Mugger of the Ganges—draggled herself + before the beasts, lashing furiously to right and left with her tail. + </p> + <p> + “They have made it too strong for me. In all this night I have only torn + away a handful of planks. The walls stand. The towers stand. They have + chained my flood, and the river is not free any more. Heavenly Ones, take + this yoke away! Give me clear water between bank and bank! It is I, Mother + Gunga, that speak. The Justice of the Gods! Deal me the Justice of the + Gods!” + </p> + <p> + “What said I?” whispered Peroo. “This is in truth a Punchayet of the Gods. + Now we know that all the world is dead, save you and I, Sahib.” + </p> + <p> + The Parrot screamed and fluttered again, and the Tigress, her ears flat to + her head, snarled wickedly. + </p> + <p> + Somewhere in the shadow, a great trunk and gleaming tusks swayed to and + fro, and a low gurgle broke the silence that followed on the snarl. + </p> + <p> + “We be here,” said a deep voice, “the Great Ones. One only and very many. + Shiv, my father, is here, with Indra. Kali has spoken already. Hanuman + listens also.” + </p> + <p> + “Kashi is without her Kotwal tonight,” shouted the Man with the + drinking-bottle, flinging his staff to the ground, while the island rang + to the baying of hounds. “Give her the Justice of the Gods.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye were still when they polluted my waters,” the great Crocodile + bellowed. “Ye made no sign when my river was trapped between the walls. I + had no help save my own strength, and that failed—the strength of + Mother Gunga failed—before their guard-towers. What could I do? I + have done everything. Finish now, Heavenly Ones!” + </p> + <p> + “I brought the death; I rode the spotted sickness from hut to hut of their + workmen, and yet they would not cease.” A nose-slitten, hide-worn Ass, + lame, scissor-legged, and galled, limped forward. “I cast the death at + them out of my nostrils, but they would not cease.” + </p> + <p> + Peroo would have moved, but the opium lay heavy upon him. + </p> + <p> + “Bah!” he said, spitting. “Here is Sitala herself; Mata—the + smallpox. Has the Sahib a handkerchief to put over his face?” + </p> + <p> + “Little help! They fed me the corpses for a month, and I flung them out on + my sand-bars, but their work went forward. Demons they are, and sons of + demons! And ye left Mother Gunga alone for their fire-carriage to make a + mock of. The Justice of the Gods on the bridge-builders!” + </p> + <p> + The Bull turned the cud in his mouth and answered slowly: “If the Justice + of the Gods caught all who made a mock of holy things there would be many + dark altars in the land, mother.” + </p> + <p> + “But this goes beyond a mock,” said the Tigress, darting forward a griping + paw. “Thou knowest, Shiv, and ye, too, Heavenly Ones; ye know that they + have defiled Gunga. Surely they must come to the Destroyer. Let Indra + judge.” + </p> + <p> + The Buck made no movement as he answered: “How long has this evil been?” + </p> + <p> + “Three years, as men count years,” said the Mugger, close pressed to the + earth. + </p> + <p> + “Does Mother Gunga die, then, in a year, that she is so anxious to see + vengeance now? The deep sea was where she runs but yesterday, and tomorrow + the sea shall cover her again as the Gods count that which men call time. + Can any say that this their bridge endures till tomorrow?” said the Buck. + </p> + <p> + There was along hush, and in the clearing of the storm the full moon stood + up above the dripping trees. + </p> + <p> + “Judge ye, then,” said the River, sullenly. “I have spoken my shame. The + flood falls still. I can do no more.” + </p> + <p> + “For my own part”—it was the voice of the great Ape seated within + the shrine—“it pleases me well to watch these men, remembering that + I also builded no small bridge in the world's youth.” + </p> + <p> + “They say, too,” snarled the Tiger, “that these men came of the wreck of + thy armies, Hanuman, and therefore thou hast aided—” + </p> + <p> + “They toil as my armies toiled in Lanka, and they believe that their toil + endures. Indra is too high, but Shiv, thou knowest how the land is + threaded with their fire-carriages.” + </p> + <p> + “Yea, I know,” said the Bull. “Their Gods instructed them in the matter.” + </p> + <p> + A laugh ran round the circle. + </p> + <p> + “Their Gods! What should their Gods know? They were born yesterday, and + those that made them are scarcely yet cold,” said the Mugger, “tomorrow + their Gods will die.” + </p> + <p> + “Ho!” said Peroo. “Mother Gunga talks good talk. I told that to the + padre-sahib who preached on the Mombassa, and he asked the Burra Malum to + put me in irons for a great rudeness.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely they make these things to please their Gods,” said the Bull again. + </p> + <p> + “Not altogether,” the Elephant rolled forth. “It is for the profit of my + mahajuns fat money-lenders that worship me at each new year, when they + draw my image at the head of the account-books. I, looking over their + shoulders by lamplight, see that the names in the books are those of men + in far places—for all the towns are drawn together by the + fire-carriage, and the money comes and goes swiftly, and the account-books + grow as fat as myself. And I, who am Ganesh of Good Luck, I bless my + peoples.” + </p> + <p> + “They have changed the face of the land-which is my land. They have killed + and made new towns on my banks,” said the Mugger. + </p> + <p> + “It is but the shifting of a little dirt. Let the dirt dig in the dirt if + it pleases the dirt,” answered the Elephant. + </p> + <p> + “But afterwards?” said the Tiger. “Afterwards they will see that Mother + Gunga can avenge no insult, and they fall away from her first, and later + from us all, one by one. In the end, Ganesh, we are left with naked + altars.” + </p> + <p> + The drunken Man staggered to his feet, and hiccupped vehemently. + </p> + <p> + “Kali lies. My sister lies. Also this my stick is the Kotwal of Kashi, and + he keeps tally of my pilgrims. When the time comes to worship Bhairon—and + it is always time—the fire-carriages move one by one, and each hears + a thousand pilgrims. They do not come afoot any more, but rolling upon + wheels, and my honour is increased.” + </p> + <p> + “Gunga, I have seen thy bed at Pryag black with the pilgrims,” said the + Ape, leaning forward, “and but for the fire-carriage they would have come + slowly and in fewer numbers. Remember.” + </p> + <p> + “They come to me always,” Bhairon went on thickly. “By day and night they + pray to me, all the Common People in the fields and the roads. Who is like + Bhairon today? What talk is this of changing faiths? Is my staff Kotwal of + Kashi for nothing? He keeps the tally, and he says that never were so many + altars as today, and the fire carriage serves them well. Bhairon am I—Bhairon + of the Common People, and the chiefest of tithe Heavenly Ones today. Also + my staff says—” + </p> + <p> + “Peace, thou!” lowed the Bull. “The worship of the schools is mine, and + they talk very wisely, asking whether I be one or many, as is the delight + of my people, and ye know what I am. Kali, my wife, thou knowest also.” + </p> + <p> + “Yea, I know,” said the Tigress, with lowered head. + </p> + <p> + “Greater am I than Gunga also. For ye know who moved the minds of men that + they should count Gunga holy among the rivers. Who die in that water—ye + know how men say—come to us without punishment, and Gunga knows that + the fire-carriage has borne to her scores upon scores of such anxious + ones; and Kali knows that she has held her chiefest festivals among the + pilgrimages that are fed by the fire-carriage. Who smote at Pooree, under + the Image there, her thousands in a day and a night, and bound the + sickness to the wheels of the fire-carriages, so that it ran from one end + of the land to the other? Who but Kali? Before the fire-carriage came it + was a heavy toil. The fire-carriages have served thee well, Mother of + Death. But I speak for mine own altars, who am not Bhairon of the Common + Folk, but Shiv. Men go to and fro, making words and telling talk of + strange Gods, and I listen. Faith follows faith among my people in the + schools, and I have no anger; for when all words are said, and the new + talk is ended, to Shiv men return at the last.” + </p> + <p> + “True. It is true,” murmured Hanuman. “To Shiv and to the others, mother, + they return. I creep from temple to temple in the North, where they + worship one God and His Prophet; and presently my image is alone within + their shrines.” + </p> + <p> + “Small thanks,” said the Buck, turning his head slowly. “I am that One and + His Prophet also.” + </p> + <p> + “Even so, father,” said Hanuman. “And to the South I go who am the oldest + of the Gods as men know the Gods, and presently I touch the shrines of the + New 'Faith and the Woman whom we know is hewn twelve-armed, and still they + call her Mary.” + </p> + <p> + “Small thanks, brother,” said the Tigress. “I am that Woman.” + </p> + <p> + “Even so, sister; and I go West among the fire-carriages, and stand before + the bridge-builders in many shapes, and because of me they change their + faiths and are very wise. Ho! ho! I am the builder of bridges, indeed—bridges + between this and that, and each bridge leads surely to Us in the end. Be + content, Gunga. + </p> + <p> + “Neither these men nor those that follow them mock thee at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Am I alone, then, Heavenly Ones? Shall I smooth out my flood lest + unhappily I bear away their walls? Will Indra dry my springs in the hills + and make me crawl humbly between their wharfs? Shall I bury me in the sand + ere I offend?” + </p> + <p> + “And all for the sake of a little iron bar with the fire-carriage atop. + Truly, Mother Gunga is always young!” said Ganesh the Elephant. “A child + had not spoken more foolishly. Let the dirt dig in the dirt ere it return + to the dirt. I know only that my people grow rich and praise me. Shiv has + said that the men of the schools do not forget; Bhairon is content for his + crowd of the Common People; and Hanuman laughs.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely I laugh,” said the Ape. “My altars are few beside those of Ganesh + or Bhairon, but the fire-carriages bring me new worshippers from beyond + the Black Water—the men who believe that their God is toil. I run + before them beckoning, and they follow Hanuman.” + </p> + <p> + “Give them the toil that they desire, then,” said the River. “Make a bar + across my flood and throw the water back upon the bridge. Once thou wast + strong in Lanka, Hanuman. Stoop and lift my bed.” + </p> + <p> + “Who gives life can take life.” The Ape scratched in the mud with a long + forefinger. “And yet, who would profit by the killing? Very many would + die.” + </p> + <p> + There came up from the water a snatch of a love-song such as the boys sing + when they watch their cattle in the noon heats of late spring. The Parrot + screamed joyously, sidling along his branch with lowered head as the song + grew louder, and in a patch of clear moonlight stood revealed the young + herd, the darling of the Gopis, the idol of dreaming maids and of mothers + ere their children are born—Krishna the Well-beloved. He stooped to + knot up his long wet hair, and the parrot fluttered to his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Fleeting and singing, and singing and fleeting,” hiccupped Bhairon. + “Those make thee late for the council, brother.” + </p> + <p> + “And then?” said Krishna, with a laugh, throwing back his head. “Ye can do + little without me or Karma here.” He fondled the Parrot's plumage and + laughed again. “What is this sitting and talking together? I heard Mother + Gunga roaring in the dark, and so came quickly from a but where I lay + warm. And what have ye done to Karma, that he is so wet and silent? And + what does Mother Gunga here? Are the heavens full that ye must come + paddling in the mud beast-wise? Karma, what do they do?” + </p> + <p> + “Gunga has prayed for a vengeance on the bridgebuilders, and Kali is with + her. Now she bids Hanuman whelm the bridge, that her honour may be made + great,” cried the Parrot. “I waited here, knowing that thou wouldst come, + O my master!” + </p> + <p> + “And the Heavenly Ones said nothing? Did Gunga and the Mother of Sorrows + out-talk them? Did none speak for my people?” + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” said Ganesh, moving uneasily from foot to foot; “I said it was but + dirt at play, and why should we stamp it flat?” + </p> + <p> + “I was content to let them toil—well content,” said Hanuman. + </p> + <p> + “What had I to do with Gunga's anger?” said the Bull. + </p> + <p> + “I am Bhairon of the Common Folk, and this my staff is Kotwal of all + Kashi. I spoke for the Common People.” + </p> + <p> + “Thou?” The young God's eyes sparkled. + </p> + <p> + “Am I not the first of the Gods in their mouths today?” returned Bhairon, + unabashed. “For the sake of the Common People I said very many wise things + which I have now forgotten, but this my staff—” + </p> + <p> + Krishna turned impatiently, saw the Mugger at his feet, and kneeling, + slipped an arm round the cold neck. “Mother,” he said gently, “get thee to + thy flood again. This matter is not for thee. What harm shall thy honour + take of this live dirt? Thou hast given them their fields new year after + year, and by thy flood they are made strong. They come all to thee at the + last. What need to slay them now? Have pity, mother, for a little and it + is only for a little.” + </p> + <p> + “If it be only for a little—” the slow beast began. + </p> + <p> + “Are they Gods, then?” Krishna, returned with a laugh, his eyes looking + into the dull eyes of the River. “Be certain that it is only for a little. + The Heavenly Ones have heard thee, and presently justice will be done. Go + now, mother, to the flood again. Men and cattle are thick on the waters—the + banks fall—the villages melt because of thee.” + </p> + <p> + “But the bridge-the bridge stands.” The Mugger turned grunting into the + undergrowth as Krishna rose. + </p> + <p> + “It is ended,” said the Tigress, viciously. “There is no more justice from + the Heavenly Ones. Ye have made shame and sport of Gunga, who asked no + more than a few score lives.” + </p> + <p> + “Of my people—who lie under the leaf-roofs of the village yonder—of + the young girls, and the young men who sing to them in the dark of the + child that will be born next morn—of that which was begotten + tonight,” said Krishna. “And when all is done, what profit? Tomorrow sees + them at work. Ay, if ye swept the bridge out from end to end they would + begin anew. Hear me! Bhairon is drunk always. Hanuman mocks his people + with new riddles.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, but they are very old ones,” the Ape said, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Shiv hears the talk of the schools and the dreams of the holy men; Ganesh + thinks only of his fat traders; but I—I live with these my people, + asking for no gifts, and so receiving them hourly.” + </p> + <p> + “And very tender art thou of thy people,” said the Tigress. + </p> + <p> + “They are my own. The old women dream of me turning in their sleep; the + maids look and listen for me when they go to fill their lotahs by the + river. I walk by the young men waiting without the gates at dusk, and I + call over my shoulder to the whitebeards. Ye know, Heavenly Ones, that I + alone of us all walk upon the earth continually, and have no pleasure in + our heavens so long as a green blade springs here, or there are two voices + at twilight in the standing crops. Wise are ye, but ye live far off, + forgetting whence ye came. So do I not forget. And the fire-carriage feeds + your shrines, ye say? And the fire-carriages bring a thousand pilgrims + where but ten came in the old years? True. That is true, today.” + </p> + <p> + “But tomorrow they are dead, brother,” said Ganesh. + </p> + <p> + “Peace!” said the Bull, as Hanuman leaned forward again. “And tomorrow, + beloved—what of tomorrow?” + </p> + <p> + “This only. A new word creeping from mouth to mouth among the Common Folk—a + word that neither man nor God can lay hold of—an evil word—a + little lazy word among the Common Folk, saying (and none know who set that + word afoot) that they weary of ye, Heavenly Ones.” + </p> + <p> + The Gods laughed together softly. “And then, beloved?” they said. + </p> + <p> + “And to cover that weariness they, my people, will bring to thee, Shiv, + and to thee, Ganesh, at first greater offerings and a louder noise of + worship. But the word has gone abroad, and, after, they will pay fewer + dues to our fat Brahmins. Next they will forget your altars, but so slowly + that no man can say how his forgetfulness began. + </p> + <p> + “I knew—I knew! I spoke this also, but they would not hear,” said + the Tigress. “We should have slain—we should have slain!” + </p> + <p> + “It is too late now. Ye should have slain at the beginning when the men + from across the water had taught our folk nothing. Now my people see their + work, and go away thinking. They do not think of the Heavenly Ones + altogether. They think of the fire-carriage and the other things that the + bridge-builders have done, and when your priests thrust forward hands + asking alms, they give a little unwillingly. That is the beginning, among + one or two, or five or ten—for I, moving among my people, know what + is in their hearts.” + </p> + <p> + “And the end, Jester of the Gods? What shall the end be?” said Ganesh. + </p> + <p> + “The end shall be as it was in the beginning, O slothful son of Shiv! The + flame shall die upon the altars and the prayer upon the tongue till ye + become little Gods again—Gods of the jungle—names that the + hunters of rats and noosers of dogs whisper in the thicket and among the + caves—rag-Gods, pot Godlings of the tree, and the villagemark, as ye + were at the beginning. That is the end, Ganesh, for thee, and for Bhairon—Bhairon + of the Common People.” + </p> + <p> + “It is very far away,” grunted Bhairon. “Also, it is a lie.” + </p> + <p> + “Many women have kissed Krishna. They told him this to cheer their own + hearts when the grey hairs came, and he has told us the tale,” said the + Bull, below his breath. + </p> + <p> + “Their Gods came, and we changed them. I took the Woman and made her + twelve-armed. So shall we twist all their Gods,” said Hanuman. + </p> + <p> + “Their Gods! This is no question of their Gods—one or three—man + or woman. The matter is with the people. They move, and not the Gods of + the bridgebuilders,” said Krishna. + </p> + <p> + “So be it. I have made a man worship the fire-carriage as it stood still + breathing smoke, and he knew not that he worshipped me,” said Hanuman the + Ape. “They will only change a little the names of their Gods. I shall lead + the builders of the bridges as of old; Shiv shall be worshipped in the + schools by such as doubt and despise their fellows; Ganesh shall have his + mahajuns, and Bhairon the donkey-drivers, the pilgrims, and the sellers of + toys. Beloved, they will do no more than change the names, and that we + have seen a thousand times.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely they will do no more than change the names,” echoed Ganesh; but + there was an uneasy movement among the Gods. + </p> + <p> + “They will change more than the names. Me alone they cannot kill, so long + as a maiden and a man meet together or the spring follows the winter + rains. Heavenly Ones, not for nothing have I walked upon the earth. My + people know not now what they know; but I, who live with them, I read + their hearts. Great Kings, the beginning of the end is born already. The + fire-carriages shout the names of new Gods that are not the old under new + names. Drink now and eat greatly! Bathe your faces in the smoke of the + altars before they grow cold! Take dues and listen to the cymbals and the + drums, Heavenly Ones, while yet there are flowers and songs. As men count + time the end is far off; but as we who know reckon it is today. I have + spoken.” + </p> + <p> + The young God ceased, and his brethren looked at each other long in + silence. + </p> + <p> + “This I have not heard before,” Peroo whispered in his companion's ear. + “And yet sometimes, when I oiled the brasses in the engine-room of the + Goorkha, I have wondered if our priests were so wise—so wise. The + day is coming, Sahib. They will be gone by the morning.” + </p> + <p> + A yellow light broadened in the sky, and the tone of the river changed as + the darkness withdrew. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the Elephant trumpeted aloud as though man had goaded him. + </p> + <p> + “Let Indra judge. Father of all, speak thou! What of the things we have + heard? Has Krishna lied indeed? Or—” + </p> + <p> + “Ye know,” said the Buck, rising to his feet. “Ye know the Riddle of the + Gods. When Brahm ceases to dream, the Heavens and the Hells and Earth + disappear. Be content. Brahm dreams still. The dreams come and go, and the + nature of the dreams changes, but still Brahm dreams. Krishna has walked + too long upon earth, and yet I love him the more for the tale he has told. + The Gods change, beloved-all save One!” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, all save one that makes love in the hearts of men,” said Krishna, + knotting his girdle. “It is but a little time to wait, and ye shall know + if I lie.” + </p> + <p> + “Truly it is but a little time, as thou sayest, and we shall know. Get + thee to thy huts again, beloved, and make sport for the young things, for + still Brahm dreams. Go, my children! Brahm dreams—and till he wakes + the Gods die not.” + </p> + <p> + “Whither went they?” said the Lascar, awe-struck, shivering a little with + the cold. + </p> + <p> + “God knows!” said Findlayson. The river and the island lay in full + daylight now, and there was never mark of hoof or pug on the wet earth + under the peepul. Only a parrot screamed in the branches, bringing down + showers of water-drops as he fluttered his wings. + </p> + <p> + “Up! We are cramped with cold! Has the opium died out? Canst thou move, + Sahib?” + </p> + <p> + Findlayson staggered to his feet and shook himself. His head swam and + ached, but the work of the opium was over, and, as he sluiced his forehead + in a pool, the Chief Engineer of the Kashi Bridge was wondering how he had + managed to fall upon the island, what chances the day offered of return, + and, above all, how his work stood. + </p> + <p> + “Peroo, I have forgotten much. I was under the guard-tower watching the + river; and then. . . . Did the flood sweep us away?” + </p> + <p> + “No. The boats broke loose, Sahib, and” (if the Sahib had forgotten about + the opium, decidedly Peroo would not remind him) “in striving to retie + them, so it seemed to me—but it was darka rope caught the Sahib and + threw him upon a boat. Considering that we two, with Hitchcock Sahib, + built, as it were, that bridge, I came also upon the boat, which came + riding on horseback, as it were, on the nose of this island, and so, + splitting, cast us ashore. I made a great cry when the boat left the + wharf, and without doubt Hitchcock Sahib will come for us. As for the + bridge, so many have died in the building that it cannot fall.” + </p> + <p> + A fierce sun, that drew out all the smell of the sodden land, had followed + the storm, and in that clear light there was no room for a man to think of + the dreams of the dark. Findlayson stared up-stream, across the blaze of + moving water, till his eyes ached. There was no sign of any bank to the + Ganges, much less of a bridgeline. + </p> + <p> + “We came down far,” he said. “It was wonderful that we were not drowned a + hundred times.” + </p> + <p> + “That was the least of the wonder, for no man dies before his time. I have + seen Sydney, I have seen London, and twenty great ports, but”—Peroo + looked at the damp, discoloured shrine under the peopul—“never man + has seen that we saw here.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “Has the Sahib forgotten; or do we black men only see the Gods?” + </p> + <p> + “There was a fever upon me.” Findlayson was still looking uneasily across + the water. “It seemed that the island was full of beasts and men talking, + but I do not remember. A boat could live in this water now, I think.” + </p> + <p> + “Oho! Then it is true. 'When Brahm ceases to dream, the Gods die.' Now I + know, indeed, what he meant. Once, too, the guru said as much to me; but + then I did not understand. Now I am wise.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” said Findlayson, over his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + Peroo went on as if he were talking to himself. “Six-seven-ten monsoons + since, I was watch on the fo'c'sle of the ehwah—the Kumpani's big + boat-and there was a big tufan; green and black water beating, and I held + fast to the life-lines, choking under the waters. Then I thought of the + Gods—of Those whom we saw tonight”—he stared curiously at + Findlayson's back, but the white man was looking across the flood. “Yes, I + say of Those whom we saw this night past, and I called upon Them to + protect me. And while I prayed, still keeping my lookout, a big wave came + and threw me forward upon the ring of the great black bowanchor, and the + Rewah rose high and high, leaning towards the lefthand side, and the water + drew away from beneath her nose, and I lay upon my belly, holding the + ring, and looking down into those great deeps. Then I thought, even in the + face of death: If I lose hold I die, and for me neither the Rewah nor my + place by the galley where the rice is cooked, nor Bombay, nor Calcutta, + nor even London, will be any more for me. 'How shall I be sure,' I said, + that the Gods to whom I pray will abide at all?' This I thought, and the + Rewah dropped her nose as a hammer falls, and all the sea came in and slid + me backwards along the fo'c'sle and over the break of the fo'c'sle, and I + very badly bruised my shin against the donkey-engine: but I did not die, + and I have seen the Gods. They are good for live men, but for the dead. . + . They have spoken Themselves. Therefore, when I come to the village I + will beat the guru for talking riddles which are no riddles. When Brahm + ceases to dream the Gods go.” + </p> + <p> + “Look up-stream. The light blinds. Is there smoke yonder?” + </p> + <p> + Peroo shaded his eyes with his hands. “He is a wise man and quick. + Hitchcock Sahib would not trust a rowboat. He has borrowed the Rao Sahib's + steam launch, and comes to look for us. I have always said that there + should have been a steam-launch on the bridge works for us.” + </p> + <p> + The territory of the Rao of Baraon lay within ten miles of the bridge; and + Findlayson and Hitchcock had spent a fair portion of their scanty leisure + in playing billiards and shooting black-buck with the young man. He had + been bear-led by an English tutor of sporting tastes for some five or six + years, and was now royally wasting the revenues accumulated during his + minority by the Indian Government. His steam-launch, with its silverplated + rails, striped silk awning, and mahogany decks, was a new toy which + Findlayson had found horribly in the way when the Rao came to look at the + bridge works. + </p> + <p> + “It's great luck,” murmured Findlayson, but he was none the less afraid, + wondering what news might be of the bridge. + </p> + <p> + The gaudy blue and white funnel came down-stream swiftly. They could see + Hitchcock in the bows, with a pair of opera-glasses, and his face was + unusually white. Then Peroo hailed, and the launch made for the tail of + the island. The Rao Sahib, in tweed shooting-suit and a seven-hued turban, + waved his royal hand, and Hitchcock shouted. But he need have asked no + questions, for Findlayson's first demand was for his bridge. + </p> + <p> + “All serene! Gad, I never expected to see you again, Findlayson. You're + seven koss down-stream. Yes; there's not a stone shifted anywhere; but how + are you? I borrowed the Rao Sahib's launch, and he was good enough to come + along. Jump in.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Finlinson, you are very well, eh? That was most unprecedented + calamity last night, eh? My royal palace, too, it leaks like the devil, + and the crops will also be short all about my country. Now you shall back + her out, Hitchcock. I—I do not understand steam engines. You are + wet? You are cold, Finlinson? I have some things to eat here, and you will + take a good drink.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm immensely grateful, Rao Sahib. I believe you've saved my life. How + did Hitchcock—” + </p> + <p> + “Oho! His hair was upon end. He rode to me in the middle of the night and + woke me up in the arms of Morpheus. I was most truly concerned, Finlinson, + so I came too. My head-priest he is very angry just now. We will go quick, + Mister Hitchcock. I am due to attend at twelve forty-five in the state + temple, where we sanctify some new idol. If not so I would have asked you + to spend the day with me. They are dam-bore, these religious ceremonies, + Finlinson, eh?” + </p> + <p> + Peroo, well known to the crew, had possessed himself of the inlaid wheel, + and was taking the launch craftily up-stream. But while he steered he was, + in his mind, handling two feet of partially untwisted wire-rope; and the + back upon which he beat was the back of his guru. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A WALKING DELEGATE + </h2> + <p> + According to the custom of Vermont, Sunday afternoon is salting-time on + the farm, and, unless something very important happens, we attend to the + salting ourselves. Dave and Pete, the red oxen, are treated first; they + stay in the home meadow ready for work on Monday. Then come the cows, with + Pan, the calf, who should have been turned into veal long ago, but + survived on account of his manners; and lastly the horses, scattered + through the seventy acres of the Back Pasture. + </p> + <p> + You must go down by the brook that feeds the clicking, bubbling water-ram; + up through the sugar-bush, where the young maple undergrowth closes round + you like a shallow sea; next follow the faint line of an old county-road + running past two green hollows fringed with wild rose that mark the + cellars of two ruined houses; then by Lost Orchard, where nobody ever + comes except in cider-time; then across another brook, and so into the + Back Pasture. Half of it is pine and hemlock and Spruce, with sumach and + little juniper bushes, and the other half is grey rock and boulder and + moss, with green streaks of brake and swamp; but the horses like it well + enough—our own, and the others that are turned down there to feed at + fifty cents a week. Most people walk to the Back Pasture, and find it very + rough work; but one can get there in a buggy, if the horse knows what is + expected of him. The safest conveyance is our coupe. This began life as a + buckboard, and we bought it for five dollars from a sorrowful man who had + no other sort of possessions; and the seat came off one night when we were + turning a corner in a hurry. After that alteration it made a beautiful + salting-machine, if you held tight, because there was nothing to catch + your feet when you fell out, and the slats rattled tunes. + </p> + <p> + One Sunday afternoon we went out with the salt as usual. It was a broiling + hot day, and we could not find the horses anywhere till we let Tedda + Gabler, the bobtailed mare who throws up the dirt with her big hooves + exactly as a tedder throws hay, have her head. Clever as she is, she + tipped the coupe over in a hidden brook before she came out on a ledge of + rock where all the horses had gathered, and were switching flies. The + Deacon was the first to call to her. He is a very dark iron-grey + four-year-old, son of Grandee. He has been handled since he was two, was + driven in a light cart before he was three, and now ranks as an absolutely + steady lady's horse—proof against steam-rollers, grade-crossings, + and street processions. + </p> + <p> + “Salt!” said the Deacon, joyfully. “You're dreffle late, Tedda.” + </p> + <p> + “Any—any place to cramp the coupe?” Tedda panted. “It weighs + turr'ble this weather. I'd 'a' come sooner, but they didn't know what they + wanted—ner haow. Fell out twice, both of 'em. I don't understand + sech foolishness.” + </p> + <p> + “You look consider'ble het up. 'Guess you'd better cramp her under them + pines, an' cool off a piece.” + </p> + <p> + Tedda scrambled on the ledge, and cramped the coupe in the shade of a tiny + little wood of pines, while my companion and I lay down among the brown, + silky needles, and gasped. All the home horses were gathered round us, + enjoying their Sunday leisure. + </p> + <p> + There were Rod and Rick, the seniors on the farm. They were the regular + road-pair, bay with black points, full brothers, aged, sons of a + Hambletonian sire and a Morgan dam. There were Nip and Tuck, seal-browns, + rising six, brother and sister, Black Hawks by birth, perfectly matched, + just finishing their education, and as handsome a pair as man could wish + to find in a forty-mile drive. There was Muldoon, our ex-car-horse, bought + at a venture, and any colour you choose that is not white; and Tweezy, who + comes from Kentucky, with an affliction of his left hip, which makes him a + little uncertain how his hind legs are moving. He and Muldoon had been + hauling gravel all the week for our new road. The Deacon you know already. + Last of all, and eating something, was our faithful Marcus Aurelius + Antoninus, the black buggy-horse, who had seen us through every state of + weather and road, the horse who was always standing in harness before some + door or other—a philosopher with the appetite of a shark and the + manners of an archbishop. Tedda Gabler was a new “trade,” with a + reputation for vice which was really the result of bad driving. She had + one working gait, which she could hold till further notice; a Roman nose; + a large, prominent eye; a shaving-brush of a tail; and an irritable + temper. She took her salt through her bridle; but the others trotted up + nuzzling and wickering for theirs, till we emptied it on the clean rocks. + They were all standing at ease, on three legs for the most part, talking + the ordinary gossip of the Back Pasture—about the scarcity of water, + and gaps in the fence, and how the early windfalls tasted that season—when + little Rick blew the last few grains of his allowance into a crevice, and + said: + </p> + <p> + “Hurry, boys! 'Might ha' knowed that livery plug would be around.” + </p> + <p> + We heard a clatter of hooves, and there climbed up from the ravine below a + fifty-center transient—a wall-eyed, yellow frame-house of a horse, + sent up to board from a livery-stable in town, where they called him “The + Lamb,” and never let him out except at night and to strangers. My + companion, who knew and had broken most of the horses, looked at the + ragged hammer-head as it rose, and said quietly: + </p> + <p> + “Ni-ice beast. Man-eater, if he gets the chance—see his eye. Kicker, + too—see his hocks. Western horse.” + </p> + <p> + The animal lumbered up, snuffling and grunting. His feet showed that he + had not worked for weeks and weeks, and our creatures drew together + significantly. + </p> + <p> + “As usual,” he said, with an underhung sneer—“bowin' your heads + before the Oppressor that comes to spend his leisure gloatin' over you.” + </p> + <p> + “Mine's done,” said the Deacon; he licked up the remnant of his salt, + dropped his nose in his master's hand, and sang a little grace all to + himself. The Deacon has the most enchanting manners of any one I know. + </p> + <p> + “An' fawnin' on them for what is your inalienable right. It's + humiliatin',” said the yellow horse, sniffing to see if he could find a + few spare grains. + </p> + <p> + “Go daown hill, then, Boney,” the Deacon replied. “Guess you'll find + somethin' to eat still, if yer hain't hogged it all. You've ett more'n any + three of us to-day—an' day 'fore that—an' the last two months—sence + you've been here.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not addressin' myself to the young an' immature. I am speakin' to + those whose opinion an' experience commands respect.” + </p> + <p> + I saw Rod raise his head as though he were about to make a remark; then he + dropped it again, and stood three-cornered, like a plough-horse. Rod can + cover his mile in a shade under three minutes on an ordinary road to an + ordinary buggy. He is tremendously powerful behind, but, like most + Hambletonians, he grows a trifle sullen as he gets older. No one can love + Rod very much; but no one can help respecting him. + </p> + <p> + “I wish to wake those,” the yellow horse went on, “to an abidin' sense o' + their wrongs an' their injuries an' their outrages.” + </p> + <p> + “Haow's that?” said Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, dreamily. He thought Boney + was talking of some kind of feed. + </p> + <p> + “An' when I say outrages and injuries”—Boney waved his tail + furiously—“I mean 'em, too. Great Oats! That's just what I do mean, plain + an' straight.” + </p> + <p> + “The gentleman talks quite earnest,” said Tuck, the mare, to Nip, her + brother. “There's no doubt thinkin' broadens the horizons o' the mind. His + language is quite lofty.” + </p> + <p> + “Hesh, sis,” Nip answered. + </p> + <p> + “He hain't widened nothin' 'cep' the circle he's ett in pasture. They feed + words fer beddin' where he comes from.” + </p> + <p> + “It's elegant talkin', though,” Tuck returned, with an unconvinced toss of + her pretty, lean little head. + </p> + <p> + The yellow horse heard her, and struck an attitude which he meant to be + extremely impressive. It made him look as though he had been badly + stuffed. + </p> + <p> + “Now I ask you, I ask you without prejudice an' without favour,—what + has Man the Oppressor ever done for you?—Are you not inalienably + entitled to the free air o' heaven, blowin' acrost this boundless + prairie?” + </p> + <p> + “Hev ye ever wintered here?” said the Deacon, merrily, while the others + snickered. “It's kinder cool.” + </p> + <p> + “Not yet,” said Boney. “I come from the boundless confines o' Kansas, + where the noblest of our kind have their abidin' place among the + sunflowers on the threshold o' the settin' sun in his glory.” + </p> + <p> + “An' they sent you ahead as a sample?” said Rick, with an amused quiver of + his long, beautifully groomed tail, as thick and as fine and as wavy as a + quadroon's back hair. + </p> + <p> + “Kansas, sir, needs no advertisement. Her native sons rely on themselves + an' their native sires. Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Then Tweezy lifted up his wise and polite old head. His affliction makes + him bashful as a rule, but he is ever the most courteous of horses. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, suh,” he said slowly, “but, unless I have been misinfohmed, + most of your prominent siahs, suh, are impo'ted from Kentucky; an' I'm + from Paduky.” + </p> + <p> + There was the least little touch of pride in the last words. + </p> + <p> + “Any horse dat knows beans,” said Muldoon, suddenly (he had been standing + with his hairy chin on Tweezy's broad quarters), “gits outer Kansas 'fore + dey crip his shoes. I blew in dere from Ioway in de days o' me youth an' + innocence, an' I wuz grateful when dey boxed me fer N' York. You can't + tell me anything about Kansas I don't wanter fergit. De Belt Line stables + ain't no Hoffman House, but dey're Vanderbilts 'longside o' Kansas.” + </p> + <p> + “What the horses o' Kansas think to-day, the horses of America will think + to-morrow; an' I tell you that when the horses of America rise in their + might, the day o' the Oppressor is ended.” + </p> + <p> + There was a pause, till Rick said, with a little grunt: + </p> + <p> + “Ef you put it that way, every one of us has riz in his might, 'cep' + Marcus, mebbe. Marky, 'j ever rise in yer might?” + </p> + <p> + “Nope,” said Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, thoughtfully quidding over a + mouthful of grass. “I seen a heap o' fools try, though.” + </p> + <p> + “You admit that you riz?” said the Kansas horse, excitedly. “Then why—why + in Kansas did you ever go under again?” + </p> + <p> + “Horse can't walk on his hind legs all the time,” said the Deacon. + </p> + <p> + “Not when he's jerked over on his back 'fore he knows what fetched him. + We've all done it, Boney,” said Rick. “Nip an' Tuck they tried it, spite + o' what the Deacon told 'em; an' the Deacon he tried it, spite o' what me + an' Rod told him; an' me an' Rod tried it, spite o' what Grandee told us; + an' I guess Grandee he tried it, spite o' what his dam told him. It's the + same old circus from generation to generation. 'Colt can't see why he's + called on to back. Same old rearm' on end—straight up. Same old + feelin' that you've bested 'em this time. Same old little yank at your + mouth when you're up good an' tall. Same old Pegasus-act, wonderin' where + you'll 'light. Same old wop when you hit the dirt with your head where + your tail should be, and your in'ards shook up like a bran-mash. Same old + voice in your ear: 'Waal, ye little fool, an' what did you reckon to make + by that?' We're through with risin in our might on this farm. We go to + pole er single, accordin' ez we're hitched.” + </p> + <p> + “An' Man the Oppressor sets an' gloats over you, same as he's settin' now. + Hain't that been your experience, madam?” + </p> + <p> + This last remark was addressed to Tedda; and any one could see with half + an eye that poor, old anxious, fidgety Tedda, stamping at the flies, must + have left a wild and tumultuous youth behind her. + </p> + <p> + “'Pends on the man,” she answered, shifting from one foot to the other, + and addressing herself to the home horses. “They abused me dreffle when I + was young. I guess I was sperrity an' nervous some, but they didn't allow + for that. 'Twas in Monroe County, Noo York, an' sence then till I come + here, I've run away with more men than 'u'd fill a boardin'-house. Why, + the man that sold me here he says to the boss, s' he: 'Mind, now, I've + warned you. 'Twon't be none of my fault if she sheds you daown the road. + Don't you drive her in a top-buggy, ner 'thout winkers,' s' he, 'ner + 'thought this bit ef you look to come home behind her.' 'N' the fust thing + the boss did was to git the top-buggy. + </p> + <p> + “Can't say as I like top-buggies,” said Rick; “they don't balance good.” + </p> + <p> + “Suit me to a ha'ar,” said Marcus Aurelius Antoninus. “Top-buggy means the + baby's in behind, an' I kin stop while she gathers the pretty flowers—yes, + an' pick a maouthful, too. The women-folk all say I hev to be humoured, + an' I don't kerry things to the sweatin'-point.” + </p> + <p> + “'Course I've no prejudice against a top-buggy s' long's I can see it,” + Tedda went on quickly. “It's ha'f-seein' the pesky thing bobbin' an' + balancin' behind the winkers gits on my nerves. Then the boss looked at the + bit they'd sold with me, an' s' he: 'Jiminy Christmas! This 'u'd make a + clothes-horse stan' 'n end!' Then he gave me a plain bar bit, an' fitted + it's if there was some feelin' to my maouth.” + </p> + <p> + “Hain't ye got any, Miss Tedda?” said Tuck, who has a mouth like velvet, + and knows it. + </p> + <p> + “Might 'a' had, Miss Tuck, but I've forgot. Then he give me an open + bridle,—my style's an open bridle—an'—I dunno as I ought + to tell this by rights—he—give—me—a kiss.” + </p> + <p> + “My!” said Tuck, “I can't tell fer the shoes o' me what makes some men so + fresh.” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw, sis,” said Nip, “what's the sense in actin' so? You git a kiss + reg'lar's hitchin'-up time.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you needn't tell, smarty,” said Tuck, with a squeal and a kick. + </p> + <p> + “I'd heard o' kisses, o' course,” Tedda went on, “but they hadn't come my + way specially. I don't mind tellin' I was that took aback at that man's + doin's he might ha' lit fire-crackers on my saddle. Then we went out + jest's if a kiss was nothin', an' I wasn't three strides into my gait + 'fore I felt the boss knoo his business, an' was trustin' me. So I studied + to please him, an' he never took the whip from the dash—a whip + drives me plumb distracted—an' the upshot was that—waal, I've + come up the Back Pasture to-day, an' the coupe's tipped clear over twice, + an' I've waited till 'twuz fixed each time. You kin judge for yourselves. + I don't set up to be no better than my neighbours,—specially with my + tail snipped off the way 'tis,—but I want you all to know Tedda's + quit fightin' in harness or out of it, 'cep' when there's a born fool in + the pasture, stuffin' his stummick with board that ain't rightly hisn, + 'cause he hain't earned it.” + </p> + <p> + “Meanin' me, madam?” said the yellow horse. + </p> + <p> + “Ef the shoe fits, clinch it,” said Tedda, snorting. “I named no names, + though, to be sure, some folks are mean enough an' greedy enough to do + 'thout 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “There's a deal to be forgiven to ignorance,” said the yellow horse, with + an ugly look in his blue eye. + </p> + <p> + “Seemin'ly, yes; or some folks 'u'd ha' been kicked raound the pasture + 'bout onct a minute sence they came—board er no board.” + </p> + <p> + “But what you do not understand, if you will excuse me, madam, is that the + whole principle o' servitood, which includes keep an' feed, starts from a + radically false basis; an' I am proud to say that me an' the majority o' + the horses o' Kansas think the entire concern should be relegated to the + limbo of exploded superstitions. I say we're too progressive for that. I + say we're too enlightened for that. 'Twas good enough's long's we didn't + think, but naow—but naow—a new loominary has arisen on the + horizon!” + </p> + <p> + “Meanin' you?” said the Deacon. + </p> + <p> + “The horses o' Kansas are behind me with their multitoodinous thunderin' + hooves, an' we say, simply but grandly, that we take our stand with all + four feet on the inalienable rights of the horse, pure and simple,—the + high-toned child o' nature, fed by the same wavin' grass, cooled by the + same ripplin' brook—yes, an' warmed by the same gen'rous sun as + falls impartially on the outside an' the inside of the pampered machine o' + the trottin'-track, or the bloated coupe-horses o' these yere Eastern + cities. Are we not the same flesh an' blood?” + </p> + <p> + “Not by a bushel an' a half,” said the Deacon, under his breath. “Grandee + never was in Kansas.” + </p> + <p> + “My! Ain't that elegant, though, abaout the wavin' grass an' the ripplin' + brooks?” Tuck whispered in Nip's ear. “The gentleman's real convincin', I + think.” + </p> + <p> + “I say we are the same flesh an' blood! Are we to be separated, horse from + horse, by the artificial barriers of a trottin'-record, or are we to look + down upon each other on the strength o' the gifts o' nature—an extry + inch below the knee, or slightly more powerful quarters? What's the use o' + them advantages to you? Man the Oppressor comes along, an' sees you're + likely an' good-lookin', an' grinds you to the face o' the earth. What + for? For his own pleasure: for his own convenience! Young an' old, black + an' bay, white an' grey, there's no distinctions made between us. We're + ground up together under the remorseless teeth o' the engines of + oppression!” + </p> + <p> + “Guess his breechin' must ha' broke goin' daown-hill,” said the Deacon. + “Slippery road, maybe, an' the buggy come onter him, an' he didn't know + 'nough to hold back. That don't feel like teeth, though. Maybe he busted a + shaft, an' it pricked him.” + </p> + <p> + “An' I come to you from Kansas, wavin' the tail o' friendship to all an' + sundry, an' in the name of the uncounted millions o' pure-minded, + high-toned horses now strugglin' towards the light o' freedom, I say to + you, Rub noses with us in our sacred an' holy cause. The power is yourn. + Without you, I say, Man the Oppressor cannot move himself from place to + place. Without you he cannot reap, he cannot sow, he cannot plough.” + </p> + <p> + “Mighty odd place, Kansas!” said Marcus Aurelius Antoninus. “Seemin'ly + they reap in the spring an' plough in the fall. 'Guess it's right fer + them, but 'twould make me kinder giddy.” + </p> + <p> + “The produc's of your untirin' industry would rot on the ground if you did + not weakly consent to help him. Let 'em rot, I say! Let him call you to + the stables in vain an' nevermore! Let him shake his ensnarin' oats under + your nose in vain! Let the Brahmas roost in the buggy, an' the rats run + riot round the reaper! Let him walk on his two hind feet till they blame + well drop off! Win no more soul-destroin' races for his pleasure! Then, + an' not till then, will Man the Oppressor know where he's at. Quit + workin', fellow-sufferers an' slaves! Kick! Rear! Plunge! Lie down on the + shafts, an' woller! Smash an' destroy! The conflict will be but short, an' + the victory is certain. After that we can press our inalienable rights to + eight quarts o' oats a day, two good blankets, an' a fly-net an' the best + o' stablin'.” + </p> + <p> + The yellow horse shut his yellow teeth with a triumphant snap; and Tuck + said, with a sigh: “Seems's if somethin' ought to be done. Don't seem + right, somehow,—oppressin' us an all,—to my way o' thinkin'.” + </p> + <p> + Said Muldoon, in a far-away and sleepy voice: + </p> + <p> + “Who in Vermont's goin' to haul de inalienable oats? Dey weigh like Sam + Hill, an' sixty bushel at dat allowance ain't goin' to last t'ree weeks + here. An' dere's de winter hay for five mont's!” + </p> + <p> + “We can settle those minor details when the great cause is won,” said the + yellow horse. “Let us return simply but grandly to our inalienable rights—the + right o' freedom on these yere verdant hills, an' no invijjus distinctions + o' track an' pedigree:” + </p> + <p> + “What in stables 'jer call an invijjus distinction?” said the Deacon, + stiffly. + </p> + <p> + “Fer one thing, bein' a bloated, pampered trotter jest because you happen + to be raised that way, an' couldn't no more help trottin' than eatin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Do ye know anythin' about trotters?” said the Deacon. + </p> + <p> + “I've seen 'em trot. That was enough for me. I don't want to know any + more. Trottin's immoral.” + </p> + <p> + “Waal, I'll tell you this much. They don't bloat, an' they don't pamp—much. + I don't hold out to be no trotter myself, though I am free to say I had + hopes that way—onct. But I do say, fer I've seen 'em trained, that a + trotter don't trot with his feet: he trots with his head; an' he does more + work—ef you know what that is—in a week than you er your sire + ever done in all your lives. He's everlastingly at it, a trotter is; an' + when he isn't, he's studyin' haow. You seen 'em trot? Much you hev! You + was hitched to a rail, back o' the stand, in a buckboard with a soap-box + nailed on the slats, an' a frowzy buff'lo atop, while your man peddled rum + fer lemonade to little boys as thought they was actin' manly, till you was + both run off the track an' jailed—you intoed, shufflin', + sway-backed, wind-suckin' skate, you!” + </p> + <p> + “Don't get het up, Deacon,” said Tweezy, quietly. “Now, suh, would you + consider a fox-trot, an' single-foot, an' rack, an' pace, an' amble, + distinctions not worth distinguishin'? I assuah you, gentlemen, there was + a time befo' I was afflicted in my hip, if you'll pardon me, Miss Tuck, + when I was quite celebrated in Paduky for all those gaits; an in my + opinion the Deacon's co'rect when he says that a ho'se of any position in + society gets his gaits by his haid, an' not by—his, ah, limbs, Miss + Tuck. I reckon I'm very little good now, but I'm rememberin' the things I + used to do befo' I took to transpo'tin' real estate with the help an' + assistance of this gentleman here.” He looked at Muldoon. + </p> + <p> + “Invijjus arterficial hind legs!” said the ex-carhorse, with a grunt of + contempt. “On de Belt Line we don't reckon no horse wuth his keep 'less he + kin switch de car off de track, run her round on de cobbles, an' dump her + in ag'in ahead o' de truck what's blockin' him. Dere is a way o' swingin' + yer quarters when de driver says, 'Yank her out, boys!' dat takes a year + to learn. Onct yer git onter it, youse kin yank a cable-car outer a + manhole. I don't advertise myself for no circus-horse, but I knew dat + trick better than most, an' dey was good to me in de stables, fer I saved + time on de Belt—an' time's what dey hunt in N' York.” + </p> + <p> + “But the simple child o' nature—” the yellow horse began. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, go an' unscrew yer splints! You're talkin' through yer bandages,” + said Muldoon, with a horse-laugh. “Dere ain't no loose-box for de simple + child o' nature on de Belt Line, wid de Paris comin' in an' de Teutonic + goin' out, an' de trucks an' de coupe's sayin' things, an' de heavy + freight movin' down fer de Boston boat 'bout t'ree o'clock of an August + afternoon, in de middle of a hot wave when de fat Kanucks an' Western + horses drops dead on de block. De simple child o' nature had better chase + himself inter de water. Every man at de end of his lines is mad or loaded + or silly, an' de cop's madder an' loadeder an' sillier than de rest. Dey + all take it outer de horses. Dere's no wavin' brooks ner ripplin' grass on + de Belt Line. Run her out on de cobbles wid de sparks flyin', an' stop + when de cop slugs you on de bone o' yer nose. Dat's N'York; see? + </p> + <p> + “I was always told s'ciety in Noo York was dreffle refined an' + high-toned,” said Tuck. “We're lookin' to go there one o' these days, Nip + an' me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you won't see no Belt business where you'll go, miss. De man dat + wants you'll want you bad, an' he'll summer you on Long Island er at Newport, + wid a winky-pinky silver harness an' an English coachman. You'll make a + star-hitch, you an' yer brother, miss. But I guess you won't have no nice + smooth bar bit. Dey checks 'em, an' dey bangs deir tails, an' dey bits + 'em, de city folk, an' dey says it's English, ye know, an' dey darsen't + cut a horse loose 'ca'se o' de cops. N' York's no place fer a horse, 'less + he's on de Belt, an' can go round wid de boys. Wisht I was in de Fire + Department!” + </p> + <p> + “But did you never stop to consider the degradin' servitood of it all?” + said the yellow horse. + </p> + <p> + “You don't stop on de Belt, cully. You're stopped. An' we was all in de + servitood business, man an' horse, an' Jimmy dat sold de papers. Guess de + passengers weren't out to grass neither, by de way dey acted. I done my + turn, an' I'm none o' Barnum's crowd; but any horse dat's worked on de + Belt four years don't train wid no simple child o' nature—not by de + whole length o' N' York.” + </p> + <p> + “But can it be possible that with your experience, and at your time of + life, you do not believe that all horses are free and equal?” said the + yellow horse. + </p> + <p> + “Not till they're dead,” Muldoon answered quietly. “An' den it depends on + de gross total o' buttons an' mucilage dey gits outer youse at Barren + Island.” + </p> + <p> + “They tell me you're a prominent philosopher.” The yellow horse turned to + Marcus. “Can you deny a basic and pivotal statement such as this?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't deny anythin',” said Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, cautiously; “but + ef you ast me, I should say 'twuz more different sorts o' clipped oats of + a lie than anythin' I've had my teeth into sence I wuz foaled.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you a horse?” said the yellow horse. + </p> + <p> + “Them that knows me best 'low I am.” + </p> + <p> + “Ain't I a horse?” + </p> + <p> + “Yep; one kind of.” + </p> + <p> + “Then ain't you an' me equal?” + </p> + <p> + “How fer kin you go in a day to a loaded buggy, drawin' five hundred + pounds?” Marcus asked carelessly. + </p> + <p> + “That has nothing to do with the case,” the yellow horse answered + excitedly. + </p> + <p> + “There's nothing I know hez more to do with the case,” Marcus replied. + </p> + <p> + “Kin ye yank a full car outer de tracks ten times in de mornin'?” said + Muldoon. + </p> + <p> + “Kin ye go to Keene—forty-two mile in an afternoon—with a + mate,” said Rick; “an' turn out bright an' early next mornin'?” + </p> + <p> + “Was there evah any time in your careah, suh—I am not referrin' to + the present circumstances, but our mutual glorious past—when you + could carry a pretty girl to market hahnsome, an' let her knit all the way + on account o' the smoothness o' the motion?” said Tweezy. + </p> + <p> + “Kin you keep your feet through the West River Bridge, with the + narrer-gage comin' in on one side, an' the Montreal flyer the other, an' + the old bridge teeterin' between?” said the Deacon. “Kin you put your nose + down on the cow-catcher of a locomotive when you're waitin' at the depot + an' let 'em play 'Curfew shall not ring to-night' with the big brass + bell?” + </p> + <p> + “Kin you hold back when the brichin' breaks? Kin you stop fer orders when + your nigh hind leg's over your trace an' ye feel good of a frosty + mornin'?” said Nip, who had only learned that trick last winter, and + thought it was the crown of horsely knowledge. + </p> + <p> + “What's the use o' talkin'?” said Tedda Gabler, scornfully. “What kin ye + do?” + </p> + <p> + “I rely on my simple rights—the inalienable rights o' my unfettered + horsehood. An' I am proud to say I have never, since my first shoes, + lowered myself to obeyin' the will o' man.” + </p> + <p> + “'Must ha' had a heap o' whips broke over yer yaller back,” said Tedda. + “Hev ye found it paid any?” + </p> + <p> + “Sorrer has been my portion since the day I was foaled. Blows an' boots + an' whips an' insults—injury, outrage, an' oppression. I would not + endoor the degradin' badges o' servitood that connect us with the buggy + an' the farm-wagon.” + </p> + <p> + “It's amazin' difficult to draw a buggy 'thout traces er collar er + breast-strap er somefin',” said Marcus. “A Power-machine for sawin' wood + is most the only thing there's no straps to. I've helped saw 's much as + three cord in an afternoon in a Power-machine. Slep', too, most o' the + time, I did; but 'tain't half as interestin' ez goin' daown-taown in the + Concord.” + </p> + <p> + “Concord don't hender you goin' to sleep any,” said Nip. “My throat-lash! + D'you remember when you lay down in the sharves last week, waitin' at the + piazza?” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw! That didn't hurt the sharves. They wuz good an' wide, an' I lay + down keerful. The folks kep' me hitched up nigh an hour 'fore they + started; an' larfed—why, they all but lay down themselves with + larfin'. Say, Boney, if you've got to be hitched to anything that goes on + wheels, you've got to be hitched with somefin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Go an' jine a circus,” said Muldoon, “an' walk on your hind legs. All de + horses dat knows too much to work [he pronounced it 'woik,' New York + fashion] jine de circus.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not sayin' anythin' again' work,” said the yellow horse; “work is + the finest thing in the world.” + </p> + <p> + “'Seems too fine fer some of us,” Tedda snorted. + </p> + <p> + “I only ask that each horse should work for himself, an' enjoy the profit + of his labours. Let him work intelligently, an' not as a machine.” + </p> + <p> + “There ain't no horse that works like a machine,” Marcus began. + </p> + <p> + “There's no way o' workin' that doesn't mean goin' to pole er single—they + never put me in the Power-machine—er under saddle,” said Rick. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, shucks! We're talkin' same ez we graze,” said Nip, “raound an' raound + in circles. Rod, we hain't heard from you yet, an' you've more know-how + than any span here.” + </p> + <p> + Rod, the off-horse of the pair, had been standing with one hip lifted, + like a tired cow; and you could only tell by the quick flutter of the haw + across his eye, from time to time, that he was paying any attention to the + argument. He thrust his jaw out sidewise, as his habit is when he pulls, + and changed his leg. His voice was hard and heavy, and his ears were close + to his big, plain Hambletonian head. + </p> + <p> + “How old are you?” he said to the yellow horse. + </p> + <p> + “Nigh thirteen, I guess.” + </p> + <p> + “Mean age; ugly age; I'm gettin' that way myself. How long hev ye been + pawin' this firefanged stable-litter?” + </p> + <p> + “If you mean my principles, I've held 'em sence I was three.” + </p> + <p> + “Mean age; ugly age; teeth give heaps o' trouble then. 'Set a colt to + actin' crazy fer a while. You've kep' it up, seemin'ly. D'ye talk much to + your neighbours fer a steady thing?” + </p> + <p> + “I uphold the principles o' the Cause wherever I am pastured.” + </p> + <p> + “'Done a heap o' good, I guess?” + </p> + <p> + “I am proud to say I have taught a few of my companions the principles o' + freedom an' liberty.” + </p> + <p> + “Meanin' they ran away er kicked when they got the chanst?” + </p> + <p> + “I was talkin' in the abstrac', an' not in the concrete. My teachin's + educated them.” + </p> + <p> + “What a horse, specially a young horse, hears in the abstrac', he's liable + to do in the Concord. You was handled late, I presoom.” + </p> + <p> + “Four, risin' five.” + </p> + <p> + “That's where the trouble began. Driv' by a woman, like ez not—eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Not fer long,” said the yellow horse, with a snap of his teeth. + </p> + <p> + “Spilled her?” + </p> + <p> + “I heerd she never drove again.” + </p> + <p> + “Any childern?” + </p> + <p> + “Buckboards full of 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “Men too?” + </p> + <p> + “I have shed conside'ble men in my time.” + </p> + <p> + “By kickin'?” + </p> + <p> + “Any way that come along. Fallin' back over the dash is as handy as most.” + </p> + <p> + “They must be turr'ble afraid o' you daown taown?” + </p> + <p> + “They've sent me here to get rid o' me. I guess they spend their time + talkin' over my campaigns.” + </p> + <p> + “I wanter know!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. Now, all you gentlemen have asked me what I can do. I'll just + show you. See them two fellers lyin' down by the buggy?” + </p> + <p> + “Yep; one of 'em owns me. T'other broke me,” said Rod. + </p> + <p> + “Get 'em out here in the open, an' I'll show you something. Lemme hide + back o' you peoples, so's they won't see what I'm at.” + </p> + <p> + “Meanin' ter kill 'em?” Rod drawled. There was a shudder of horror through + the others; but the yellow horse never noticed. + </p> + <p> + “I'll catch 'em by the back o' the neck, an' pile-drive 'em a piece. They + can suit 'emselves about livin' when I'm through with 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “'Shouldn't wonder ef they did,” said Rod. The yellow horse had hidden + himself very cleverly behind the others as they stood in a group, and was + swaying his head close to the ground with a curious scythe-like motion, + looking side-wise out of his wicked eyes. You can never mistake a + man-eater getting ready to knock a man down. We had had one to pasture the + year before. + </p> + <p> + “See that?” said my companion, turning over on the pine-needles. “Nice for + a woman walking 'cross lots, wouldn't it be?” + </p> + <p> + “Bring 'em out!” said the yellow horse, hunching his sharp back. “There's + no chance among them tall trees. Bring out the—oh! Ouch!” + </p> + <p> + It was a right-and-left kick from Muldoon. I had no idea that the old + car-horse could lift so quickly. Both blows caught the yellow horse full + and fair in the ribs, and knocked the breath out of him. + </p> + <p> + “What's that for?” he said angrily, when he recovered himself; but I + noticed he did not draw any nearer to Muldoon than was necessary. + </p> + <p> + Muldoon never answered, but discoursed to himself in the whining grunt + that he uses when he is going down-hill in front of a heavy load. We call + it singing; but I think it's something much worse, really. The yellow + horse blustered and squealed a little, and at last said that, if it was a + horse-fly that had stung Muldoon, he would accept an apology. + </p> + <p> + “You'll get it,” said Muldoon, “in de sweet by-and-bye—all de + apology you've any use for. Excuse me interruptin' you, Mr. Rod, but I'm + like Tweezy—I've a Southern drawback in me hind legs.” + </p> + <p> + “Naow, I want you all here to take notice, an' you'll learn something,” + Rod went on. “This yaller-backed skate comes to our pastur'-” + </p> + <p> + “Not havin' paid his board,” put in Tedda. + </p> + <p> + “Not havin' earned his board, an' talks smooth to us abaout ripplin' + brooks an' wavin' grass, an' his high-toned, pure-souled horsehood, which + don't hender him sheddin' women an' childern, an' fallin' over the dash + onter men. You heard his talk, an' you thought it mighty fine, some o' + you.” + </p> + <p> + Tuck looked guilty here, but she did not say anything. + </p> + <p> + “Bit by bit he goes on ez you have heard.” + </p> + <p> + “I was talkin' in the abstrac',” said the yellow horse, in an altered + voice. + </p> + <p> + “Abstrac' be switched! Ez I've said, it's this yer blamed abstrac' + business that makes the young uns cut up in the Concord; an' abstrac' or + no abstrac', he crep' on an' on till he come to killin' plain an' straight—killin' + them as never done him no harm, jest beca'se they owned horses.” + </p> + <p> + “An' knowed how to manage 'em,” said Tedda. “That makes it worse.” + </p> + <p> + “Waal, he didn't kill 'em, anyway,” said Marcus. “He'd ha' been half + killed ef he had tried.” + </p> + <p> + “'Makes no differ,” Rod answered. “He meant to; an' ef he hadn't—s'pose + we want the Back Pasture turned into a biffin'-ground on our only day er + rest? 'S'pose we want our men walkin' round with bits er lead pipe an' a + twitch, an' their hands full o' stones to throw at us, same's if we wuz + hogs er hooky keows? More'n that, leavin' out Tedda here—an' I guess + it's more her maouth than her manners stands in her light—there + ain't a horse on this farm that ain't a woman's horse, an' proud of it. + An' this yer bogspavined Kansas sunflower goes up an' daown the length o' + the country, traded off an' traded on, boastin' as he's shed women—an' + childern. I don't say as a woman in a buggy ain't a fool. I don't say as + she ain't the lastin'est kind er fool, ner I don't say a child ain't worse—spattin' + the lines an' standin' up an' hollerin'—but I do say, 'tain't none + of our business to shed 'em daown the road.” + </p> + <p> + “We don't,” said the Deacon. “The baby tried to git some o' my tail for a + sooveneer last fall when I was up to the haouse, an' I didn't kick. + Boney's talk ain't goin' to hurt us any. We ain't colts.” + </p> + <p> + “Thet's what you think. Bimeby you git into a tight corner, 'Lection day er + Valley Fair, like's not, daown-taown, when you're all het an' lathery, an' + pestered with flies, an' thirsty, an' sick o' bein' worked in an aout + 'tween buggies. Then somethin' whispers inside o' your winkers, bringin' + up all that talk abaout servitood an' inalienable truck an' sech like, an' + jest then a Militia gun goes off; er your wheels hit, an'—waal, + you're only another horse ez can't be trusted. I've been there time an' + again. Boys—fer I've seen you all bought er broke—on my solemn + repitation fer a three-minute clip, I ain't givin' you no bran-mash o' my + own fixin'. I'm tellin' you my experiences, an' I've had ez heavy a load + an' ez high a check's any horse here. I wuz born with a splint on my near + fore ez big's a walnut, an' the cussed, three-cornered Hambletonian temper + that sours up an' curdles daown ez you git older. I've favoured my splint; + even little Rick he don't know what it's cost me to keep my end up + sometimes; an' I've fit my temper in stall an' harness, hitched up an' at + pasture, till the sweat trickled off my hooves, an' they thought I wuz off + condition, an' drenched me.” + </p> + <p> + “When my affliction came,” said Tweezy, gently, “I was very near to losin' + my manners. Allow me to extend to you my sympathy, suh.” + </p> + <p> + Rick said nothing, but he looked at Rod curiously. Rick is a + sunny-tempered child who never bears malice, and I don't think he quite + understood. He gets his temper from his mother, as a horse should. + </p> + <p> + “I've been there too, Rod,” said Tedda. “Open confession's good for the + soul, an' all Monroe County knows I've had my experriences.” + </p> + <p> + “But if you will excuse me, suh, that pusson”—Tweezy looked + unspeakable things at the yellow horse—“that pusson who has insulted + our intelligences comes from Kansas. An' what a ho'se of his position, an' + Kansas at that, says cannot, by any stretch of the halter, concern + gentlemen of our position. There's no shadow of equal'ty, suh, not even + for one kick. He's beneath our contempt.” + </p> + <p> + “Let him talk,” said Marcus. “It's always interestin' to know what another + horse thinks. It don't tech us.” + </p> + <p> + “An' he talks so, too,” said Tuck. “I've never heard anythin' so smart for + a long time.” + </p> + <p> + Again Rod stuck out his jaws sidewise, and went on slowly, as though he + were slugging on a plain bit at the end of a thirty-mile drive: + </p> + <p> + “I want all you here ter understand thet ther ain't no Kansas, ner no + Kentucky, ner yet no Vermont, in our business. There's jest two kind o' + horse in the United States—them ez can an' will do their work after + bein' properly broke an' handled, an' them as won't. I'm sick an' tired o' + this everlastin' tail-switchin' an' wickerin' abaout one State er another. + A horse kin be proud o' his State, an' swap lies abaout it in stall or + when he's hitched to a block, ef he keers to put in fly-time that way; but + he hain't no right to let that pride o' hisn interfere with his work, ner + to make it an excuse fer claimin' he's different. That's colts' talk, an' + don't you fergit it, Tweezy. An', Marcus, you remember that bein' a + philosopher, an' anxious to save trouble,—fer you are,—don't + excuse you from jumpin' with all your feet on a slack-jawed, crazy + clay-bank like Boney here. It's leavin' 'em alone that gives 'em their + chance to ruin colts an' kill folks. An', Tuck, waal, you're a mare + anyways—but when a horse comes along an' covers up all his talk o' + killin' with ripplin' brooks, an wavin grass, an' eight quarts of oats a + day free, after killin' his man, don't you be run away with by his yap. + You're too young an' too nervous.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll—I'll have nervous prostration sure ef there's a fight here,” + said Tuck, who saw what was in Rod's eye; “I'm—I'm that sympathetic + I'd run away clear to next caounty.” + </p> + <p> + “Yep; I know that kind o' sympathy. Jest lasts long enough to start a + fuss, an' then lights aout to make new trouble. I hain't been ten years in + harness fer nuthin'. Naow, we're goin' to keep school with Boney fer a + spell.” + </p> + <p> + “Say, look a-here, you ain't goin' to hurt me, are you? Remember, I belong + to a man in town,” cried the yellow horse, uneasily. Muldoon kept behind + him so that he could not run away. + </p> + <p> + “I know it. There must be some pore delooded fool in this State hez a + right to the loose end o' your hitchin'-strap. I'm blame sorry fer him, + but he shall hev his rights when we're through with you,” said Rod. + </p> + <p> + “If it's all the same, gentlemen, I'd ruther change pasture. Guess I'll do + it now.” + </p> + <p> + “'Can't always have your 'druthers. 'Guess you won't,” said Rod. + </p> + <p> + “But look a-here. All of you ain't so blame unfriendly to a stranger. + S'pose we count noses.” + </p> + <p> + “What in Vermont fer?” said Rod, putting up his eyebrows. The idea of + settling a question by counting noses is the very last thing that ever + enters the head of a well-broken horse. + </p> + <p> + “To see how many's on my side. Here's Miss Tuck, anyway; an' Colonel + Tweezy yonder's neutral; an' Judge Marcus, an' I guess the Reverend [the + yellow horse meant the Deacon] might see that I had my rights. He's the + likeliest-lookin' Trotter I've ever set eyes on. Pshaw. Boys. You ain't + goin' to pound me, be you? Why, we've gone round in pasture, all colts + together, this month o' Sundays, hain't we, as friendly as could be. There + ain't a horse alive I don't care who he is—has a higher opinion o' + you, Mr. Rod, than I have. Let's do it fair an' true an' above the exe. + Let's count noses same's they do in Kansas.” Here he dropped his voice a + little and turned to Marcus: “Say, Judge, there's some green food I know, + back o' the brook, no one hain't touched yet. After this little fracas is + fixed up, you an' me'll make up a party an' 'tend to it.” + </p> + <p> + Marcus did not answer for a long time, then he said: “There's a pup up to + the haouse 'bout eight weeks old. He'll yap till he gits a lickin', an' + when he sees it comin' he lies on his back, an' yowls. But he don't go + through no cirkituous nose-countin' first. I've seen a noo light sence Rod + spoke. You'll better stand up to what's served. I'm goin' to philosophise + all over your carcass.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm goin' to do yer up in brown paper,” said Muldoon. “I can fit you on + apologies.” + </p> + <p> + “Hold on. Ef we all biffed you now, these same men you've been so dead + anxious to kill 'u'd call us off. 'Guess we'll wait till they go back to + the haouse, an' you'll have time to think cool an' quiet,” said Rod. + </p> + <p> + “Have you no respec' whatever fer the dignity o' our common horsehood?” + the yellow horse squealed. + </p> + <p> + “Nary respec' onless the horse kin do something. America's paved with the + kind er horse you are—jist plain yaller-dog horse—waitin' ter + be whipped inter shape. We call 'em yearlings an' colts when they're + young. When they're aged we pound 'em—in this pastur'. Horse, sonny, + is what you start from. We know all about horse here, an' he ain't any + high-toned, pure souled child o' nature. Horse, plain horse, same ez you, + is chock-full o' tricks, an' meannesses, an' cussednesses, an' shirkin's, + an' monkey-shines, which he's took over from his sire an' his dam, an' + thickened up with his own special fancy in the way o' goin' crooked. + Thet's horse, an' thet's about his dignity an' the size of his soul 'fore + he's been broke an' rawhided a piece. Now we ain't goin' to give ornery + unswitched horse, that hain't done nawthin' wuth a quart of oats sence he + wuz foaled, pet names that would be good enough fer Nancy Hanks, or Alix, + or Directum, who hev. Don't you try to back off acrost them rocks. Wait + where you are! Ef I let my Hambletonian temper git the better o' me I'd + frazzle you out finer than rye-straw inside o' three minutes, you + woman-scarin', kid-killin', dash-breakin', unbroke, unshod, ungaited, + pastur'-hoggin', saw-backed, shark-mouthed, hair-trunk-thrown-in-in-trade + son of a bronco an' a sewin'-machine!” + </p> + <p> + “I think we'd better get home,” I said to my companion, when Rod had + finished; and we climbed into the coupe, Tedda whinnying, as we bumped + over the ledges: “Well, I'm dreffle sorry I can't stay fer the sociable; + but I hope an' trust my friends'll take a ticket fer me.” + </p> + <p> + “Bet your natchul!” said Muldoon, cheerfully, and the horses scattered + before us, trotting into the ravine. + </p> + <p> + Next morning we sent back to the livery-stable what was left of the yellow + horse. It seemed tired, but anxious to go. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE SHIP THAT FOUND HERSELF + </h2> + <p> + It was her first voyage, and though she was but a cargo-steamer of + twenty-five hundred tons, she was the very best of her kind, the outcome + of forty years of experiments and improvements in framework and machinery; + and her designers and owner thought as much of her as though she had been + the Lucania. Any one can make a floating hotel that will pay expenses, if + he puts enough money into the saloon, and charges for private baths, + suites of rooms, and such like; but in these days of competition and low + freights every square inch of a cargo-boat must be built for cheapness, + great hold-capacity, and a certain steady speed. This boat was, perhaps, + two hundred and forty feet long and thirty-two feet wide, with + arrangements that enabled her to carry cattle on her main and sheep on her + upper deck if she wanted to; but her great glory was the amount of cargo + that she could store away in her holds. Her owners—they were a very + well known Scotch firm—came round with her from the north, where she + had been launched and christened and fitted, to Liverpool, where she was + to take cargo for New York; and the owner's daughter, Miss Frazier, went + to and fro on the clean decks, admiring the new paint and the brass work, + and the patent winches, and particularly the strong, straight bow, over + which she had cracked a bottle of champagne when she named the steamer the + Dimbula. It was a beautiful September afternoon, and the boat in all her + newness—she was painted lead-colour with a red funnel—looked + very fine indeed. Her house-flag was flying, and her whistle from time to + time acknowledged the salutes of friendly boats, who saw that she was new + to the High and Narrow Seas and wished to make her welcome. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” said Miss Frazier, delightedly, to the captain, “she's a real + ship, isn't she? It seems only the other day father gave the order for + her, and now—and now—isn't she a beauty!” The girl was proud + of the firm, and talked as though she were the controlling partner. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she's no so bad,” the skipper replied cautiously. “But I'm sayin' + that it takes more than christenin' to mak' a ship. In the nature o' + things, Miss Frazier, if ye follow me, she's just irons and rivets and + plates put into the form of a ship. She has to find herself yet.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought father said she was exceptionally well found.” + </p> + <p> + “So she is,” said the skipper, with a laugh. “But it's this way wi' ships, + Miss Frazier. She's all here, but the parrts of her have not learned to + work together yet. They've had no chance.” + </p> + <p> + “The engines are working beautifully. I can hear them.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed. But there's more than engines to a ship. Every inch of her, + ye'll understand, has to be livened up and made to work wi' its neighbour—sweetenin' + her, we call it, technically.” + </p> + <p> + “And how will you do it?” the girl asked. + </p> + <p> + “We can no more than drive and steer her and so forth; but if we have + rough weather this trip—it's likely—she'll learn the rest by + heart! For a ship, ye'll obsairve, Miss Frazier, is in no sense a reegid + body closed at both ends. She's a highly complex structure o' various an' + conflictin' strains, wi' tissues that must give an' tak' accordin' to her + personal modulus of elasteecity.” Mr. Buchanan, the chief engineer, was + coming towards them. “I'm sayin' to Miss Frazier, here, that our little + Dimbula has to be sweetened yet, and nothin' but a gale will do it. How's + all wi' your engines, Buck?” + </p> + <p> + “Well enough—true by plumb an' rule, o' course; but there's no + spontaneeity yet.” He turned to the girl. “Take my word, Miss Frazier, and + maybe ye'll comprehend later; even after a pretty girl's christened a ship + it does not follow that there's such a thing as a ship under the men that + work her.” + </p> + <p> + “I was sayin' the very same, Mr. Buchanan,” the skipper interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “That's more metaphysical than I can follow,” said Miss Frazier, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Why so? Ye're good Scotch, an'—I knew your mother's father, he was + fra' Dumfries—ye've a vested right in metapheesics, Miss Frazier, + just as ye have in the Dimbula,” the engineer said. + </p> + <p> + “Eh, well, we must go down to the deep watters, an' earn Miss Frazier her + deevidends. Will you not come to my cabin for tea?” said the skipper. + “We'll be in dock the night, and when you're goin' back to Glasgie ye can + think of us loadin' her down an' drivin' her forth—all for your + sake.” + </p> + <p> + In the next few days they stowed some four thousand tons dead-weight into + the Dimbula, and took her out from Liverpool. As soon as she met the lift + of the open water, she naturally began to talk. If you lay your ear to the + side of the cabin, the next time you are in a steamer, you will hear + hundreds of little voices in every direction, thrilling and buzzing, and + whispering and popping, and gurgling and sobbing and squeaking exactly + like a telephone in a thunder-storm. Wooden ships shriek and growl and + grunt, but iron vessels throb and quiver through all their hundreds of + ribs and thousands of rivets. The Dimbula was very strongly built, and + every piece of her had a letter or a number, or both, to describe it; and + every piece had been hammered, or forged, or rolled, or punched by man, + and had lived in the roar and rattle of the shipyard for months. + Therefore, every piece had its own separate voice, in exact proportion to + the amount of trouble spent upon it. Cast-iron, as a rule, says very + little; but mild steel plates and wrought-iron, and ribs and beams that + have been much bent and welded and riveted, talk continuously. Their + conversation, of course, is not half as wise as our human talk, because + they are all, though they do not know it, bound down one to the other in a + black darkness, where they cannot tell what is happening near them, nor + what will overtake them next. + </p> + <p> + As soon as she had cleared the Irish coast, a sullen, grey-headed old wave + of the Atlantic climbed leisurely over her straight bows, and sat down on + the steam-capstan used for hauling up the anchor. Now the capstan and the + engine that drove it had been newly painted red and green; besides which, + nobody likes being ducked. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you do that again,” the capstan sputtered through the teeth of his + cogs. “Hi! Where's the fellow gone?” + </p> + <p> + The wave had slouched overside with a plop and a chuckle; but “Plenty more + where he came from,” said a brother-wave, and went through and over the + capstan, who was bolted firmly to an iron plate on the iron deck-beams + below. + </p> + <p> + “Can't you keep still up there?” said the deckbeams. “What's the matter + with you? One minute you weigh twice as much as you ought to, and the next + you don't!” + </p> + <p> + “It isn't my fault,” said the capstan. “There's a green brute outside that + comes and hits me on the head.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell that to the shipwrights. You've been in position for months and + you've never wriggled like this before. If you aren't careful you'll + strain us.” + </p> + <p> + “Talking of strain,” said a low, rasping, unpleasant voice, “are any of + you fellows—you deck-beams, we mean—aware that those + exceedingly ugly knees of yours happen to be riveted into our structure—ours?” + </p> + <p> + “Who might you be?” the deck-beams inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nobody in particular,” was the answer. “We're only the port and + starboard upper-deck stringers; and if you persist in heaving and hiking + like this, we shall be reluctantly compelled to take steps.” + </p> + <p> + Now the stringers of the ship are long iron girders, so to speak, that run + lengthways from stern to bow. They keep the iron frames (what are called + ribs in a wooden ship) in place, and also help to hold the ends of the + deck-beams, which go from side to side of the ship. Stringers always + consider themselves most important, because they are so long. + </p> + <p> + “You will take steps—will you?” This was a long echoing rumble. It + came from the frames—scores and scores of them, each one about + eighteen inches distant from the next, and each riveted to the stringers + in four places. “We think you will have a certain amount of trouble in + that”; and thousands and thousands of the little rivets that held + everything together whispered: “You Will! You will! Stop quivering and be + quiet. Hold on, brethren! Hold on! Hot Punches! What's that?” + </p> + <p> + Rivets have no teeth, so they cannot chatter with fright; but they did + their best as a fluttering jar swept along the ship from stern to bow, and + she shook like a rat in a terrier's mouth. + </p> + <p> + An unusually severe pitch, for the sea was rising, had lifted the big + throbbing screw nearly to the surface, and it was spinning round in a kind + of soda-water—half sea and half air—going much faster than was + proper, because there was no deep water for it to work in. As it sank + again, the engines—and they were triple expansion, three cylinders + in a row—snorted through all their three pistons. “Was that a joke, + you fellow outside? It's an uncommonly poor one. How are we to do our work + if you fly off the handle that way?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't fly off the handle,” said the screw, twirling huskily at the end + of the screw-shaft. “If I had, you'd have been scrap-iron by this time. + The sea dropped away from under me, and I had nothing to catch on to. + That's all.” + </p> + <p> + “That's all, d'you call it?” said the thrust-block, whose business it is + to take the push of the screw; for if a screw had nothing to hold it back + it would crawl right into the engine-room. (It is the holding back of the + screwing action that gives the drive to a ship.) “I know I do my work deep + down and out of sight, but I warn you I expect justice. All I ask for is + bare justice. Why can't you push steadily and evenly, instead of whizzing + like a whirligig, and making me hot under all my collars?” The + thrust-block had six collars, each faced with brass, and he did not wish + to get them heated. + </p> + <p> + All the bearings that supported the fifty feet of screw-shaft as it ran to + the stern whispered: “Justice—give us justice.” + </p> + <p> + “I can only give you what I can get,” the screw answered. “Look out! It's + coming again!” + </p> + <p> + He rose with a roar as the Dimbula plunged, and “whack—flack—whack— + whack” went the engines, furiously, for they had little to check them. + </p> + <p> + “I'm the noblest outcome of human ingenuity—Mr. Buchanan says so,” + squealed the high-pressure cylinder. “This is simply ridiculous!” The + piston went up savagely, and choked, for half the steam behind it was + mixed with dirty water. “Help! Oiler! Fitter! Stoker! Help I'm choking,” + it gasped. “Never in the history of maritime invention has such a calamity + over-taken one so young and strong. And if I go, who's to drive the ship?” + </p> + <p> + “Hush! oh, hush!” whispered the Steam, who, of course, had been to sea + many times before. He used to spend his leisure ashore in a cloud, or a + gutter, or a flower-pot, or a thunder-storm, or anywhere else where water + was needed. “That's only a little priming, a little carrying-over, as they + call it. It'll happen all night, on and off. I don't say it's nice, but + it's the best we can do under the circumstances.” + </p> + <p> + “What difference can circumstances make? I'm here to do my work—on + clean, dry steam. Blow circumstances!” the cylinder roared. + </p> + <p> + “The circumstances will attend to the blowing. I've worked on the North + Atlantic run a good many times—it's going to be rough before + morning.” + </p> + <p> + “It isn't distressingly calm now,” said the extra strong frames—they + were called web-frames—in the engine-room. “There's an upward thrust + that we don't understand, and there's a twist that is very bad for our + brackets and diamond-plates, and there's a sort of west-northwesterly + pull, that follows the twist, which seriously annoys us. We mention this + because we happened to cost a good deal of money, and we feel sure that + the owner would not approve of our being treated in this frivolous way.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid the matter is out of owner's hands for the present,” said the + Steam, slipping into the condenser. “You're left to your own devices till + the weather betters.” + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't mind the weather,” said a flat bass voice below; “it's this + confounded cargo that's breaking my heart. I'm the garboard-strake, and + I'm twice as thick as most of the others, and I ought to know something.” + </p> + <p> + The garboard-strake is the lowest plate in the bottom of a ship, and the + Dimbula's garboard-strake was nearly three-quarters of an inch mild steel. + </p> + <p> + “The sea pushes me up in a way I should never have expected,” the strake + grunted, “and the cargo pushes me down, and, between the two, I don't know + what I'm supposed to do.” + </p> + <p> + “When in doubt, hold on,” rumbled the Steam, making head in the boilers. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but there's only dark, and cold, and hurry, down here; and how do I + know whether the other plates are doing their duty? Those bulwark-plates + up above, I've heard, ain't more than five-sixteenths of an inch thick—scandalous, + I call it.” + </p> + <p> + “I agree with you,” said a huge web-frame, by the main cargo-hatch. He was + deeper and thicker than all the others, and curved half-way across the + ship in the shape of half an arch, to support the deck where deck-beams + would have been in the way of cargo coming up and down. “I work entirely + unsupported, and I observe that I am the sole strength of this vessel, so + far as my vision extends. The responsibility, I assure you, is enormous. I + believe the money-value of the cargo is over one hundred and fifty + thousand pounds. Think of that!” + </p> + <p> + “And every pound of it is dependent on my personal exertions.” Here spoke + a sea-valve that communicated directly with the water outside, and was + seated not very far from the garboard-strake. “I rejoice to think that I + am a Prince-Hyde Valve, with best Para rubber facings. Five patents cover + me—I mention this without pride—five separate and several + patents, each one finer than the other. At present I am screwed fast. + Should I open, you would immediately be swamped. This is + incontrovertible!” + </p> + <p> + Patent things always use the longest words they can. It is a trick that + they pick up from their inventors. + </p> + <p> + “That's news,” said a big centrifugal bilge-pump. “I had an idea that you + were employed to clean decks and things with. At least, I've used you for + that more than once. I forget the precise number, in thousands, of gallons + which I am guaranteed to throw per hour; but I assure you, my complaining + friends, that there is not the least danger. I alone am capable of + clearing any water that may find its way here. By my Biggest Deliveries, + we pitched then!” + </p> + <p> + The sea was getting up in workmanlike style. It was a dead westerly gale, + blown from under a ragged opening of green sky, narrowed on all sides by + fat, grey clouds; and the wind bit like pincers as it fretted the spray + into lacework on the flanks of the waves. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you what it is,” the foremast telephoned down its wire-stays. “I'm + up here, and I can take a dispassionate view of things. There's an + organised conspiracy against us. I'm sure of it, because every single one + of these waves is heading directly for our bows. The whole sea is + concerned in it—and so's the wind. It's awful!” + </p> + <p> + “What's awful?” said a wave, drowning the capstan for the hundredth time. + </p> + <p> + “This organised conspiracy on your part,” the capstan gurgled, taking his + cue from the mast. “Organised bubbles and spindrift! There has been a + depression in the Gulf of Mexico. Excuse me!” He leaped overside; but his + friends took up the tale one after another. + </p> + <p> + “Which has advanced—” That wave hove green water over the funnel. + </p> + <p> + “As far as Cape Hatteras—” He drenched the bridge. + </p> + <p> + “And is now going out to sea—to sea—to sea!” The third went + out in three surges, making a clean sweep of a boat, which turned bottom + up and sank in the darkening troughs alongside, while the broken falls + whipped the davits. + </p> + <p> + “That's all there is to it,” seethed the white water roaring through the + scuppers. “There's no animus in our proceedings. We're only meteorological + corollaries.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it going to get any worse?” said the bow-anchor chained down to the + deck, where he could only breathe once in five minutes. + </p> + <p> + “Not knowing, can't say. Wind may blow a bit by midnight. Thanks awfully. + Good-bye.” + </p> + <p> + The wave that spoke so politely had travelled some distance aft, and found + itself all mixed up on the deck amidships, which was a well-deck sunk + between high bulwarks. One of the bulwark-plates, which was hung on hinges + to open outward, had swung out, and passed the bulk of the water back to + the sea again with a clean smack. + </p> + <p> + “Evidently that's what I'm made for,” said the plate, closing again with a + sputter of pride. “Oh, no, you don't, my friend!” The top of a wave was + trying to get in from the outside, but as the plate did not open in that + direction, the defeated water spurted back. + </p> + <p> + “Not bad for five-sixteenths of an inch,” said the bulwark-plate. “My + work, I see, is laid down for the night”; and it began opening and + shutting, as it was designed to do, with the motion of the ship. + </p> + <p> + “We are not what you might call idle,” groaned all the frames together, as + the Dimbula climbed a big wave, lay on her side at the top, and shot into + the next hollow, twisting in the descent. A huge swell pushed up exactly + under her middle, and her bow and stern hung free with nothing to support + them. Then one joking wave caught her up at the bow, and another at the + stern, while the rest of the water slunk away from under her just to see + how she would like it; so she was held up at her two ends only, and the + weight of the cargo and the machinery fell on the groaning iron keels and + bilge-stringers. + </p> + <p> + “Ease off! Ease off; there!” roared the garboard-strake. “I want + one-eighth of an inch fair play. D' you hear me, you rivets!” + </p> + <p> + “Ease off! Ease off!” cried the bilge-stringers. “Don't hold us so tight + to the frames!” + </p> + <p> + “Ease off!” grunted the deck-beams, as the Dimbula rolled fearfully. + “You've cramped our knees into the stringers, and we can't move. Ease off; + you flat-headed little nuisances.” + </p> + <p> + Then two converging seas hit the bows, one on each side, and fell away in + torrents of streaming thunder. + </p> + <p> + “Ease off!” shouted the forward collision-bulkhead. “I want to crumple up, + but I'm stiffened in every direction. Ease off; you dirty little + forge-filings. Let me breathe!” + </p> + <p> + All the hundreds of plates that are riveted to the frames, and make the + outside skin of every steamer, echoed the call, for each plate wanted to + shift and creep a little, and each plate, according to its position, + complained against the rivets. + </p> + <p> + “We can't help it! We can't help it!” they murmured in reply. “We're put + here to hold you, and we're going to do it; you never pull us twice in the + same direction. If you'd say what you were going to do next, we'd try to + meet your views. + </p> + <p> + “As far as I could feel,” said the upper-deck planking, and that was four + inches thick, “every single iron near me was pushing or pulling in + opposite directions. Now, what's the sense of that? My friends, let us all + pull together.” + </p> + <p> + “Pull any way you please,” roared the funnel, “so long as you don't try + your experiments on me. I need fourteen wire-ropes, all pulling in + different directions, to hold me steady. Isn't that so?” + </p> + <p> + “We believe you, my boy!” whistled the funnel-stays through their clinched + teeth, as they twanged in the wind from the top of the funnel to the deck. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense! We must all pull together,” the decks repeated. “Pull + lengthways.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good,” said the stringers; “then stop pushing sideways when you get + wet. Be content to run gracefully fore and aft, and curve in at the ends + as we do.” + </p> + <p> + “No—no curves at the end. A very slight workmanlike curve from side + to side, with a good grip at each knee, and little pieces welded on,” said + the deck-beams. + </p> + <p> + “Fiddle!” cried the iron pillars of the deep, dark hold. “Who ever heard + of curves? Stand up straight; be a perfectly round column, and carry tons + of good solid weight—like that! There!” A big sea smashed on the + deck above, and the pillars stiffened themselves to the load. + </p> + <p> + “Straight up and down is not bad,” said the frames, who ran that way in + the sides of the ship, “but you must also expand yourselves sideways. + Expansion is the law of life, children. Open out! open out!” + </p> + <p> + “Come back!” said the deck-beams, savagely, as the upward heave of the sea + made the frames try to open. “Come back to your bearings, you slack-jawed + irons!” + </p> + <p> + “Rigidity! Rigidity! Rigidity!” thumped the engines. “Absolute, unvarying + rigidity—rigidity!” + </p> + <p> + “You see!” whined the rivets, in chorus. “No two of you will ever pull + alike, and—and you blame it all on us. We only know how to go + through a plate and bite down on both sides so that it can't, and mustn't, + and sha'n't move.” + </p> + <p> + “I've got one fraction of an inch play, at any rate,” said the + garboard-strake, triumphantly. So he had, and all the bottom of the ship + felt the easier for it. + </p> + <p> + “Then we're no good,” sobbed the bottom rivets. “We were ordered—we + were ordered—never to give; and we've given, and the sea will come + in, and we'll all go to the bottom together! First we're blamed for + everything unpleasant, and now we haven't the consolation of having done + our work.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't say I told you,” whispered the Steam, consolingly; “but, between + you and me and the last cloud I came from, it was bound to happen sooner + or later. You had to give a fraction, and you've given without knowing it. + Now, hold on, as before.” + </p> + <p> + “What's the use?” a few hundred rivets chattered. “We've given—we've + given; and the sooner we confess that we can't keep the ship together, and + go off our little heads, the easier it will be. No rivet forged can stand + this strain.” + </p> + <p> + “No one rivet was ever meant to. Share it among you,” the Steam answered. + </p> + <p> + “The others can have my share. I'm going to pull out,” said a rivet in one + of the forward plates. + </p> + <p> + “If you go, others will follow,” hissed the Steam. “There's nothing so + contagious in a boat as rivets going. Why, I knew a little chap like you—he + was an eighth of an inch fatter, though—on a steamer—to be + sure, she was only twelve hundred tons, now I come to think of it in + exactly the same place as you are. He pulled out in a bit of a bobble of a + sea, not half as bad as this, and he started all his friends on the same + butt-strap, and the plates opened like a furnace door, and I had to climb + into the nearest fog-bank, while the boat went down.” + </p> + <p> + “Now that's peculiarly disgraceful,” said the rivet. “Fatter than me, was + he, and in a steamer not half our tonnage? Reedy little peg! I blush for + the family, sir.” He settled himself more firmly than ever in his place, + and the Steam chuckled. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” he went on, quite gravely, “a rivet, and especially a rivet in + your position, is really the one indispensable part of the ship.” + </p> + <p> + The Steam did not say that he had whispered the very same thing to every + single piece of iron aboard. There is no sense in telling too much. + </p> + <p> + And all that while the little Dimbula pitched and chopped, and swung and + slewed, and lay down as though she were going to die, and got up as though + she had been stung, and threw her nose round and round in circles half a + dozen times as she dipped, for the gale was at its worst. It was inky + black, in spite of the tearing white froth on the waves, and, to top + everything, the rain began to fall in sheets, so that you could not see + your hand before your face. This did not make much difference to the + ironwork below, but it troubled the foremast a good deal. + </p> + <p> + “Now it's all finished,” he said dismally. “The conspiracy is too strong + for us. There is nothing left but to—” + </p> + <p> + “Hurraar! Brrrraaah! Brrrrrrp!” roared the Steam through the fog-horn, + till the decks quivered. “Don't be frightened, below. It's only me, just + throwing out a few words, in case any one happens to be rolling round + to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't mean to say there's any one except us on the sea in such + weather?” said the funnel, in a husky snuffle. + </p> + <p> + “Scores of 'em,” said the Steam, clearing its throat. “Rrrrrraaa! + Brraaaaa! Prrrrp! It's a trifle windy up here; and, Great Boilers! how it + rains!” + </p> + <p> + “We're drowning,” said the scuppers. They had been doing nothing else all + night, but this steady thrash of rain above them seemed to be the end of + the world. + </p> + <p> + “That's all right. We'll be easier in an hour or two. First the wind and + then the rain. Soon you may make sail again! Grrraaaaaah! Drrrraaaa! + Drrrp! I have a notion that the sea is going down already. If it does + you'll learn something about rolling. We've only pitched till now. By the + way, aren't you chaps in the hold a little easier than you were?” + </p> + <p> + There was just as much groaning and straining as ever, but it was not so + loud or squeaky in tone; and when the ship quivered she did not jar + stiffly, like a poker hit on the floor, but gave with a supple little + waggle, like a perfectly balanced golf-club. + </p> + <p> + “We have made a most amazing discovery,” said the stringers, one after + another. “A discovery that entirely changes the situation. We have found, + for the first time in the history of ship-building, that the inward pull + of the deck-beams and the outward thrust of the frames locks us, as it + were, more closely in our places, and enables us to endure a strain which + is entirely without parallel in the records of marine architecture.” + </p> + <p> + The Steam turned a laugh quickly into a roar up the fog-horn. “What + massive intellects you great stringers have,” he said softly, when he had + finished. + </p> + <p> + “We also,” began the deck-beams, “are discoverers and geniuses. We are of + opinion that the support of the hold-pillars materially helps us. We find + that we lock up on them when we are subjected to a heavy and singular + weight of sea above.” + </p> + <p> + Here the Dimbula shot down a hollow, lying almost on her side; righting at + the bottom with a wrench and a spasm. + </p> + <p> + “In these cases—are you aware of this, Steam?—the plating at + the bows, and particularly at the stern—we would also mention the + floors beneath us—help us to resist any tendency to spring.” The + frames spoke, in the solemn awed voice which people use when they have + just come across something entirely new for the very first time. + </p> + <p> + “I'm only a poor puffy little flutterer,” said the Steam, “but I have to + stand a good deal of pressure in my business. It's all tremendously + interesting. Tell us some more. You fellows are so strong.” + </p> + <p> + “Watch us and you'll see,” said the bow-plates, proudly. “Ready, behind + there! Here's the father and mother of waves coming! Sit tight, rivets + all!” A great sluicing comber thundered by, but through the scuffle and + confusion the Steam could hear the low, quick cries of the ironwork as the + various strains took them—cries like these: “Easy, now—easy! + Now push for all your strength! Hold out! Give a fraction! Hold up! Pull + in! Shove crossways! Mind the strain at the ends! Grip, now! Bite tight! + Let the water get away from under—and there she goes!” + </p> + <p> + The wave raced off into the darkness, shouting, “Not bad, that, if it's + your first run!” and the drenched and ducked ship throbbed to the beat of + the engines inside her. All three cylinders were white with the salt spray + that had come down through the engine-room hatch; there was white fur on + the canvas-bound steam-pipes, and even the bright-work deep below was + speckled and soiled; but the cylinders had learned to make the most of + steam that was half water, and were pounding along cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + “How's the noblest outcome of human ingenuity hitting it?” said the Steam, + as he whirled through the engine-room. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing for nothing in this world of woe,” the cylinders answered, as + though they had been working for centuries, “and precious little for + seventy-five pounds head. We've made two knots this last hour and a + quarter! Rather humiliating for eight hundred horse-power, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's better than drifting astern, at any rate. You seem rather less—how + shall I put it—stiff in the back than you were.” + </p> + <p> + “If you'd been hammered as we've been this night, you wouldn't be stiff—iff—iff; + either. Theoreti—retti—retti—cally, of course, rigidity + is the thing. Purrr—purr—practically, there has to be a little + give and take. We found that out by working on our sides for five minutes + at a stretch—chch—chh. How's the weather?” + </p> + <p> + “Sea's going down fast,” said the Steam. + </p> + <p> + “Good business,” said the high-pressure cylinder. “Whack her up, boys. + They've given us five pounds more steam”; and he began humming the first + bars of “Said the young Obadiah to the old Obadiah,” which, as you may + have noticed, is a pet tune among engines not built for high speed. + Racing-liners with twin-screws sing “The Turkish Patrol” and the overture + to the “Bronze Horse,” and “Madame Angot,” till something goes wrong, and + then they render Gounod's “Funeral March of a Marionette,” with + variations. + </p> + <p> + “You'll learn a song of your own some fine day,” said the Steam, as he + flew up the fog-horn for one last bellow. + </p> + <p> + Next day the sky cleared and the sea dropped a little, and the Dimbula + began to roll from side to side till every inch of iron in her was sick + and giddy. But luckily they did not all feel ill at the same time: + otherwise she would have opened out like a wet paper box. + </p> + <p> + The Steam whistled warnings as he went about his business: it is in this + short, quick roll and tumble that follows a heavy sea that most of the + accidents happen, for then everything thinks that the worst is over and + goes off guard. So he orated and chattered till the beams and frames and + floors and stringers and things had learned how to lock down and lock up + on one another, and endure this new kind of strain. + </p> + <p> + They found ample time to practise, for they were sixteen days at sea, and + it was foul weather till within a hundred miles of New York. The Dimbula + picked up her pilot, and came in covered with salt and red rust. Her + funnel was dirty-grey from top to bottom; two boats had been carried away; + three copper ventilators looked like hats after a fight with the police; + the bridge had a dimple in the middle of it; the house that covered the + steam steering-gear was split as with hatchets; there was a bill for small + repairs in the engine-room almost as long as the screw-shaft; the forward + cargo-hatch fell into bucket-staves when they raised the iron cross-bars; + and the steam-capstan had been badly wrenched on its bed. Altogether, as + the skipper said, it was “a pretty general average.” + </p> + <p> + “But she's soupled,” he said to Mr. Buchanan. “For all her dead-weight she + rode like a yacht. Ye mind that last blow off the Banks—I am proud + of her, Buck.” + </p> + <p> + “It's vera good,” said the chief engineer, looking along the dishevelled + decks. “Now, a man judgin' superfeecially would say we were a wreck, but + we know otherwise—by experience.” + </p> + <p> + Naturally everything in the Dimbula fairly stiffened with pride, and the + foremast and the forward collision-bulkhead, who are pushing creatures, + begged the Steam to warn the Port of New York of their arrival. “Tell + those big boats all about us,” they said. “They seem to take us quite as a + matter of course.” + </p> + <p> + It was a glorious, clear, dead calm morning, and in single file, with less + than half a mile between each, their bands playing and their tugboats + shouting and waving handkerchiefs, were the Majestic, the Paris, the + Touraine, the Servia, the Kaiser Wilhelm II, and the Werkendam, all + statelily going out to sea. As the Dimbula shifted her helm to give the + great boats clear way, the Steam (who knows far too much to mind making an + exhibition of himself now and then) shouted: + </p> + <p> + “Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! Princes, Dukes, and Barons of the High Seas! Know ye by + these presents, we are the Dimbula, fifteen days nine hours from + Liverpool, having crossed the Atlantic with four thousand ton of cargo for + the first time in our career! We have not foundered. We are here. 'Eer! + 'Eer! We are not disabled. But we have had a time wholly unparalleled in + the annals of ship-building! Our decks were swept! We pitched; we rolled! + We thought we were going to die! Hi! Hi! But we didn't. We wish to give + notice that we have come to New York all the way across the Atlantic, + through the worst weather in the world; and we are the Dimbula! We are—arr—ha—ha—ha-r-r-r!” + </p> + <p> + The beautiful line of boats swept by as steadily as the procession of the + Seasons. The Dimbula heard the Majestic say, “Hmph!” and the Paris + grunted, “How!” and the Touraine said, “Oui!” with a little coquettish + flicker of steam; and the Servia said, “Haw!” and the Kaiser and the + Werkendam said, “Hoch!” Dutch fashion—and that was absolutely all. + </p> + <p> + “I did my best,” said the Steam, gravely, “but I don't think they were + much impressed with us, somehow. Do you?” + </p> + <p> + “It's simply disgusting,” said the bow-plates. “They might have seen what + we've been through. There isn't a ship on the sea that has suffered as we + have—is there, now?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I wouldn't go so far as that,” said the Steam, “because I've worked + on some of those boats, and sent them through weather quite as bad as the + fortnight that we've had, in six days; and some of them are a little over + ten thousand tons, I believe. Now I've seen the Majestic, for instance, + ducked from her bows to her funnel; and I've helped the Arizona, I think + she was, to back off an iceberg she met with one dark night; and I had to + run out of the Paris's engine-room, one day, because there was thirty foot + of water in it. Of course, I don't deny—” The Steam shut off + suddenly, as a tugboat, loaded with a political club and a brass band, + that had been to see a New York Senator off to Europe, crossed their bows, + going to Hoboken. There was a long silence that reached, without a break, + from the cut-water to the propeller-blades of the Dimbula. + </p> + <p> + Then a new, big voice said slowly and thickly, as though the owner had + just waked up: “It's my conviction that I have made a fool of myself.” + </p> + <p> + The Steam knew what had happened at once; for when a ship finds herself + all the talking of the separate pieces ceases and melts into one voice, + which is the soul of the ship. + </p> + <p> + “Who are you?” he said, with a laugh. “I am the Dimbula, of course. I've + never been anything else except that—and a fool!” + </p> + <p> + The tugboat, which was doing its very best to be run down, got away just + in time; its band playing clashily and brassily a popular but impolite + air: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + In the days of old Rameses—are you on? + In the days of old Rameses—are you on? + In the days of old Rameses, + That story had paresis, + Are you on—are you on—are you on? +</pre> + <p> + “Well, I'm glad you've found yourself,” said the Steam. “To tell the + truth, I was a little tired of talking to all those ribs and stringers. + Here's Quarantine. After that we'll go to our wharf and clean up a little, + and—next month we'll do it all over again.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE TOMB OF HIS ANCESTORS + </h2> + <p> + Some people will tell you that if there were but a single loaf of bread in + all India it would be divided equally between the Plowdens, the Trevors, + the Beadons, and the Rivett-Carnacs. That is only one way of saying that + certain families serve India generation after generation, as dolphins + follow in line across the open sea. + </p> + <p> + Let us take a small and obscure case. There has been at least one + representative of the Devonshire Chinns in or near Central India since the + days of Lieutenant-Fireworker Humphrey Chinn, of the Bombay European + Regiment, who assisted at the capture of Seringapatam in 1799. Alfred + Ellis Chinn, Humphrey's younger brother, commanded a regiment of Bombay + grenadiers from 1804 to 1813, when he saw some mixed fighting; and in 1834 + John Chinn of the same family—we will call him John Chinn the First—came + to light as a level-headed administrator in time of trouble at a place + called Mundesur. He died young, but left his mark on the new country, and + the Honourable the Board of Directors of the Honourable the East India + Company embodied his virtues in a stately resolution, and paid for the + expenses of his tomb among the Satpura hills. + </p> + <p> + He was succeeded by his son, Lionel Chinn, who left the little old + Devonshire home just in time to be severely wounded in the Mutiny. He + spent his working life within a hundred and fifty miles of John Chinn's + grave, and rose to the command of a regiment of small, wild hill-men, most + of whom had known his father. His son John was born in the small + thatched-roofed, mud-walled cantonment, which is even to-day eighty miles + from the nearest railway, in the heart of a scrubby, tigerish country. + Colonel Lionel Chinn served thirty years and retired. In the Canal his + steamer passed the outward-bound troop-ship, carrying his son eastward to + the family duty. + </p> + <p> + The Chinns are luckier than most folk, because they know exactly what they + must do. A clever Chinn passes for the Bombay Civil Service, and gets away + to Central India, where everybody is glad to see him. A dull Chinn enters + the Police Department or the Woods and Forest, and sooner or later he, + too, appears in Central India, and that is what gave rise to the saying, + “Central India is inhabited by Bhils, Mairs, and Chinns, all very much + alike.” The breed is small-boned, dark, and silent, and the stupidest of + them are good shots. John Chinn the Second was rather clever, but as the + eldest son he entered the army, according to Chinn tradition. His duty was + to abide in his father's regiment for the term of his natural life, though + the corps was one which most men would have paid heavily to avoid. They + were irregulars, small, dark, and blackish, clothed in rifle-green with + black-leather trimmings; and friends called them the “Wuddars,” which + means a race of low-caste people who dig up rats to eat. But the Wuddars + did not resent it. They were the only Wuddars, and their points of pride + were these: + </p> + <p> + Firstly, they had fewer English officers than any native regiment. + Secondly, their subalterns were not mounted on parade, as is the general + rule, but walked at the head of their men. A man who can hold his own with + the Wuddars at their quickstep must be sound in wind and limb. Thirdly, + they were the most pukka shikarries (out-and-out hunters) in all India. + Fourthly-up to one-hundredthly—they were the Wuddars—Chinn's + Irregular Bhil Levies of the old days, but now, henceforward and for ever, + the Wuddars. + </p> + <p> + No Englishman entered their mess except for love or through family usage. + The officers talked to their soldiers in a tongue not two hundred white + folk in India understood; and the men were their children, all drawn from + the Bhils, who are, perhaps, the strangest of the many strange races in + India. They were, and at heart are, wild men, furtive, shy, full of untold + superstitions. The races whom we call natives of the country found the + Bhil in possession of the land when they first broke into that part of the + world thousands of years ago. The books call them Pre-Aryan, Aboriginal, + Dravidian, and so forth; and, in other words, that is what the Bhils call + themselves. When a Rajput chief whose bards can sing his pedigree + backwards for twelve hundred years is set on the throne, his investiture + is not complete till he has been marked on the forehead with blood from + the veins of a Bhil. The Rajputs say the ceremony has no meaning, but the + Bhil knows that it is the last, last shadow of his old rights as the + long-ago owner of the soil. + </p> + <p> + Centuries of oppression and massacre made the Bhil a cruel and half-crazy + thief and cattle-stealer, and when the English came he seemed to be almost + as open to civilisation as the tigers of his own jungles. But John Chinn + the First, father of Lionel, grandfather of our John, went into his + country, lived with him, learned his language, shot the deer that stole + his poor crops, and won his confidence, so that some Bhils learned to + plough and sow, while others were coaxed into the Company's service to + police their friends. + </p> + <p> + When they understood that standing in line did not mean instant execution, + they accepted soldiering as a cumbrous but amusing kind of sport, and were + zealous to keep the wild Bhils under control. That was the thin edge of + the wedge. John Chinn the First gave them written promises that, if they + were good from a certain date, the Government would overlook previous + offences; and since John Chinn was never known to break his word—he + promised once to hang a Bhil locally esteemed invulnerable, and hanged him + in front of his tribe for seven proved murders—the Bhils settled + down as steadily as they knew how. It was slow, unseen work, of the sort + that is being done all over India to-day; and though John Chinn's only + reward came, as I have said, in the shape of a grave at Government + expense, the little people of the hills never forgot him. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Lionel Chinn knew and loved them, too, and they were very fairly + civilised, for Bhils, before his service ended. Many of them could hardly + be distinguished from low-caste Hindoo farmers; but in the south, where + John Chinn the First was buried, the wildest still clung to the Satpura + ranges, cherishing a legend that some day Jan Chinn, as they called him, + would return to his own. In the mean time they mistrusted the white man + and his ways. The least excitement would stampede them, plundering, at + random, and now and then killing; but if they were handled discreetly they + grieved like children, and promised never to do it again. + </p> + <p> + The Bhils of the regiment—the uniformed men—were virtuous in + many ways, but they needed humouring. They felt bored and homesick unless + taken after tiger as beaters; and their cold-blooded daring—all + Wuddars shoot tigers on foot: it is their caste-mark—made even the + officers wonder. They would follow up a wounded tiger as unconcernedly as + though it were a sparrow with a broken wing; and this through a country + full of caves and rifts and pits, where a wild beast could hold a dozen + men at his mercy. Now and then some little man was brought to barracks + with his head smashed in or his ribs torn away; but his companions never + learned caution; they contented themselves with settling the tiger. + </p> + <p> + Young John Chinn was decanted at the verandah of the Wuddars' lonely + mess-house from the back seat of a two-wheeled cart, his gun-cases + cascading all round him. The slender little, hookey-nosed boy looked + forlorn as a strayed goat when he slapped the white dust off his knees, + and the cart jolted down the glaring road. But in his heart he was + contented. After all, this was the place where he had been born, and + things were not much changed since he had been sent to England, a child, + fifteen years ago. + </p> + <p> + There were a few new buildings, but the air and the smell and the sunshine + were the same; and the little green men who crossed the parade-ground + looked very familiar. Three weeks ago John Chinn would have said he did + not remember a word of the Bhil tongue, but at the mess door he found his + lips moving in sentences that he did not understand—bits of old + nursery rhymes, and tail-ends of such orders as his father used to give + the men. + </p> + <p> + The Colonel watched him come up the steps, and laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Look!” he said to the Major. “No need to ask the young un's breed. He's a + pukka Chinn. 'Might be his father in the Fifties over again.” + </p> + <p> + “'Hope he'll shoot as straight,” said the Major. “He's brought enough + ironmongery with him.” + </p> + <p> + “'Wouldn't be a Chinn if he didn't. Watch him blowin' his nose. 'Regular + Chinn beak. 'Flourishes his handkerchief like his father. It's the second + edition—line for line.” + </p> + <p> + “'Fairy tale, by Jove!” said the Major, peering through the slats of the + jalousies. “If he's the lawful heir, he'll.... Now old Chinn could no more + pass that chick without fiddling with it than....” + </p> + <p> + “His son!” said the Colonel, jumping up. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I be blowed!” said the Major. The boy's eye had been caught by a + split-reed screen that hung on a slew between the veranda pillars, and, + mechanically, he had tweaked the edge to set it level. Old Chinn had sworn + three times a day at that screen for many years; he could never get it to + his satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + His son entered the anteroom in the middle of a fivefold silence. They + made him welcome for his father's sake and, as they took stock of him, for + his own. He was ridiculously like the portrait of the Colonel on the wall, + and when he had washed a little of the dust from his throat he went to his + quarters with the old man's short, noiseless jungle-step. + </p> + <p> + “So much for heredity,” said the Major. “That comes of four generations + among the Bhils.” + </p> + <p> + “And the men know it,” said a Wing officer. “They've been waiting for this + youth with their tongues hanging out. I am persuaded that, unless he + absolutely beats 'em over the head, they'll lie down by companies and + worship him.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothin' like havin' a father before you,” said the Major. “I'm a parvenu + with my chaps. I've only been twenty years in the regiment, and my revered + parent he was a simple squire. There's no getting at the bottom of a + Bhil's mind. Now, why is the superior bearer that young Chinn brought with + him fleeing across country with his bundle?” He stepped into the verandah, + and shouted after the man—a typical new-joined subaltern's servant + who speaks English and cheats in proportion. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” he called. + </p> + <p> + “Plenty bad man here. I going, sar,” was the reply. “Have taken Sahib's + keys, and say will shoot.” + </p> + <p> + “Doocid lucid—doocid convincin'. How those up-country thieves can + leg it! He has been badly frightened by some one.” The Major strolled to + his quarters to dress for mess. + </p> + <p> + Young Chinn, walking like a man in a dream, had fetched a compass round + the entire cantonment before going to his own tiny cottage. The captain's + quarters, in which he had been born, delayed him for a little; then he + looked at the well on the parade-ground, where he had sat of evenings with + his nurse, and at the ten-by-fourteen church, where the officers went to + service if a chaplain of any official creed happened to come along. It + seemed very small as compared with the gigantic buildings he used to stare + up at, but it was the same place. + </p> + <p> + From time to time he passed a knot of silent soldiers, who saluted. They + might have been the very men who had carried him on their backs when he + was in his first knickerbockers. A faint light burned in his room, and, as + he entered, hands clasped his feet, and a voice murmured from the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Who is it?” said young Chinn, not knowing he spoke in the Bhil tongue. + </p> + <p> + “I bore you in my arms, Sahib, when I was a strong man and you were a + small one—crying, crying, crying! I am your servant, as I was your + father's before you. We are all your servants.” + </p> + <p> + Young Chinn could not trust himself to reply, and the voice went on: + </p> + <p> + “I have taken your keys from that fat foreigner, and sent him away; and + the studs are in the shirt for mess. Who should know, if I do not know? + And so the baby has become a man, and forgets his nurse; but my nephew + shall make a good servant, or I will beat him twice a day.” + </p> + <p> + Then there rose up, with a rattle, as straight as a Bhil arrow, a little + white-haired wizened ape of a man, with medals and orders on his tunic, + stammering, saluting, and trembling. Behind him a young and wiry Bhil, in + uniform, was taking the trees out of Chinn's mess-boots. + </p> + <p> + Chinn's eyes were full of tears. The old man held out his keys. + </p> + <p> + “Foreigners are bad people. He will never come back again. We are all + servants of your father's son. Has the Sahib forgotten who took him to see + the trapped tiger in the village across the river, when his mother was so + frightened and he was so brave?” + </p> + <p> + The scene came back to Chinn in great magic-lantern flashes. “Bukta!” he + cried; and all in a breath: “You promised nothing should hurt me. Is it + Bukta?” + </p> + <p> + The man was at his feet a second time. “He has not forgotten. He remembers + his own people as his father remembered. Now can I die. But first I will + live and show the Sahib how to kill tigers. That that yonder is my nephew. + If he is not a good servant, beat him and send him to me, and I will + surely kill him, for now the Sahib is with his own people. Ai, Jan haba—Jan + haba! My Jan haba! I will stay here and see that this does his work well. + Take off his boots, fool. Sit down upon the bed, Sahib, and let me look. + It is Jan haba.” + </p> + <p> + He pushed forward the hilt of his sword as a sign of service, which is an + honour paid only to viceroys, governors, generals, or to little children + whom one loves dearly. Chinn touched the hilt mechanically with three + fingers, muttering he knew not what. It happened to be the old answer of + his childhood, when Bukta in jest called him the little General Sahib. + </p> + <p> + The Major's quarters were opposite Chinn's, and when he heard his servant + gasp with surprise he looked across the room. Then the Major sat on the + bed and whistled; for the spectacle of the senior native commissioned + officer of the regiment, an “unmixed” Bhil, a Companion of the Order of + British India, with thirty-five years' spotless service in the army, and a + rank among his own people superior to that of many Bengal princelings, + valeting the last-joined subaltern, was a little too much for his nerves. + </p> + <p> + The throaty bugles blew the Mess-call that has a long legend behind it. + First a few piercing notes like the shrieks of beaters in a far-away + cover, and next, large, full, and smooth, the refrain of the wild song: + “And oh, and oh, the green pulse of Mundore—Mundore!” + </p> + <p> + “All little children were in bed when the Sahib heard that call last,” + said Bukta, passing Chinn a clean handkerchief. The call brought back + memories of his cot under the mosquito-netting, his mother's kiss, and the + sound of footsteps growing fainter as he dropped asleep among his men. So + he hooked the dark collar of his new mess-jacket, and went to dinner like + a prince who has newly inherited his father's crown. + </p> + <p> + Old Bukta swaggered forth curling his whiskers. He knew his own value, and + no money and no rank within the gift of the Government would have induced + him to put studs in young officers' shirts, or to hand them clean ties. + Yet, when he took off his uniform that night, and squatted among his + fellows for a quiet smoke, he told them what he had done, and they said + that he was entirely right. Thereat Bukta propounded a theory which to a + white mind would have seemed raving insanity; but the whispering, + level-headed little men of war considered it from every point of view, and + thought that there might be a great deal in it. + </p> + <p> + At mess under the oil-lamps the talk turned as usual to the unfailing + subject of shikar—big game-shooting of every kind and under all + sorts of conditions. Young Chinn opened his eyes when he understood that + each one of his companions had shot several tigers in the Wuddar style—on + foot, that is—making no more of the business than if the brute had + been a dog. + </p> + <p> + “In nine cases out of ten,” said the Major, “a tiger is almost as + dangerous as a porcupine. But the tenth time you come home feet first.” + </p> + <p> + That set all talking, and long before midnight Chinn's brain was in a + whirl with stories of tigers—man-eaters and cattle-killers each + pursuing his own business as methodically as clerks in an office; new + tigers that had lately come into such-and-such a district; and old, + friendly beasts of great cunning, known by nicknames in the mess-such as + “Puggy,” who was lazy, with huge paws, and “Mrs. Malaprop,” who turned up + when you never expected her, and made female noises. Then they spoke of + Bhil superstitions, a wide and picturesque field, till young Chinn hinted + that they must be pulling his leg. + </p> + <p> + “'Deed, we aren't,” said a man on his left. “We know all about you. You're + a Chinn and all that, and you've a sort of vested right here; but if you + don't believe what we're telling you, what will you do when old Bukta + begins his stories? He knows about ghost-tigers, and tigers that go to a + hell of their own; and tigers that walk on their hind feet; and your + grandpapa's riding-tiger, as well. 'Odd he hasn't spoken of that yet.” + </p> + <p> + “You know you've an ancestor buried down Satpura way, don't you?” said the + Major, as Chinn smiled irresolutely. + </p> + <p> + “Of course I do,” said Chinn, who had the chronicle of the Book of Chinn + by heart. It lies in a worn old ledger on the Chinese lacquer table behind + the piano in the Devonshire home, and the children are allowed to look at + it on Sundays. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I wasn't sure. Your revered ancestor, my boy, according to the + Bhils, has a tiger of his own—a saddle-tiger that he rides round the + country whenever he feels inclined. I don't call it decent in an + ex-Collector's ghost; but that is what the Southern Bhils believe. Even + our men, who might be called moderately cool, don't care to beat that + country if they hear that Jan Chinn is running about on his tiger. It is + supposed to be a clouded animal—not stripy, but blotchy, like a + tortoise-shell tom-cat. No end of a brute, it is, and a sure sign of war + or pestilence or—or something. There's a nice family legend for + you.” + </p> + <p> + “What's the origin of it, d' you suppose?” said Chinn. + </p> + <p> + “Ask the Satpura Bhils. Old Jan Chinn was a mighty hunter before the Lord. + Perhaps it was the tiger's revenge, or perhaps he's huntin' 'em still. You + must go to his tomb one of these days and inquire. Bukta will probably + attend to that. He was asking me before you came whether by any ill-luck + you had already bagged your tiger. If not, he is going to enter you under + his own wing. Of course, for you of all men it's imperative. You'll have a + first-class time with Bukta.” + </p> + <p> + The Major was not wrong. Bukta kept an anxious eye on young Chinn at + drill, and it was noticeable that the first time the new officer lifted up + his voice in an order the whole line quivered. Even the Colonel was taken + aback, for it might have been Lionel Chinn returned from Devonshire with a + new lease of life. Bukta had continued to develop his peculiar theory + among his intimates, and it was accepted as a matter of faith in the + lines, since every word and gesture on young Chinn's part so confirmed it. + </p> + <p> + The old man arranged early that his darling should wipe out the reproach + of not having shot a tiger; but he was not content to take the first or + any beast that happened to arrive. In his own villages he dispensed the + high, low, and middle justice, and when his people—naked and + fluttered—came to him with word of a beast marked down, he bade them + send spies to the kills and the watering-places, that he might be sure the + quarry was such an one as suited the dignity of such a man. + </p> + <p> + Three or four times the reckless trackers returned, most truthfully saying + that the beast was mangy, undersized—a tigress worn with nursing, or + a broken-toothed old male—and Bukta would curb young Chinn's + impatience. + </p> + <p> + At last, a noble animal was marked down—a ten-foot cattle-killer + with a huge roll of loose skin along the belly, glossy-hided, full-frilled + about the neck, whiskered, frisky, and young. He had slain a man in pure + sport, they said. + </p> + <p> + “Let him be fed,” quoth Bukta, and the villagers dutifully drove out a cow + to amuse him, that he might lie up near by. + </p> + <p> + Princes and potentates have taken ship to India and spent great moneys for + the mere glimpse of beasts one-half as fine as this of Bukta's. + </p> + <p> + “It is not good,” said he to the Colonel, when he asked for + shooting-leave, “that my Colonel's son who may be—that my Colonel's + son should lose his maidenhead on any small jungle beast. That may come + after. I have waited long for this which is a tiger. He has come in from + the Mair country. In seven days we will return with the skin.” + </p> + <p> + The mess gnashed their teeth enviously. Bukta, had he chosen, might have + invited them all. But he went out alone with Chinn, two days in a + shooting-cart and a day on foot, till they came to a rocky, glary valley + with a pool of good water in it. It was a parching day, and the boy very + naturally stripped and went in for a bathe, leaving Bukta by the clothes. + A white skin shows far against brown jungle, and what Bukta beheld on + Chinn's back and right shoulder dragged him forward step by step with + staring eyeballs. + </p> + <p> + “I'd forgotten it isn't decent to strip before a man of his position,” + said Chinn, flouncing in the water. “How the little devil stares! What is + it, Bukta?” “The Mark!” was the whispered answer. + </p> + <p> + “It is nothing. You know how it is with my people!” Chinn was annoyed. The + dull-red birth-mark on his shoulder, something like a conventionalised + Tartar cloud, had slipped his memory or he would not have bathed. It + occurred, so they said at home, in alternate generations, appearing, + curiously enough, eight or nine years after birth, and, save that it was + part of the Chinn inheritance, would not be considered pretty. He hurried + ashore, dressed again, and went on till they met two or three Bhils, who + promptly fell on their faces. “My people,” grunted Bukta, not + condescending to notice them. “And so your people, Sahib. When I was a + young man we were fewer, but not so weak. Now we are many, but poor stock. + As may be remembered. How will you shoot him, Sahib? From a tree; from a + shelter which my people shall build; by day or by night?” + </p> + <p> + “On foot and in the daytime,” said young Chinn. + </p> + <p> + “That was your custom, as I have heard,” said Bukta to himself “I will get + news of him. Then you and I will go to him. I will carry one gun. You have + yours. There is no need of more. What tiger shall stand against thee?” + </p> + <p> + He was marked down by a little water-hole at the head of a ravine, + full-gorged and half asleep in the May sunlight. He was walked up like a + partridge, and he turned to do battle for his life. Bukta made no motion + to raise his rifle, but kept his eyes on Chinn, who met the shattering + roar of the charge with a single shot—it seemed to him hours as he + sighted—which tore through the throat, smashing the backbone below + the neck and between the shoulders. The brute couched, choked, and fell, + and before Chinn knew well what had happened Bukta bade him stay still + while he paced the distance between his feet and the ringing jaws. + </p> + <p> + “Fifteen,” said Bukta. “Short paces. No need for a second shot, Sahib. He + bleeds cleanly where he lies, and we need not spoil the skin. I said there + would be no need of these, but they came—in case.” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the sides of the ravine were crowned with the heads of Bukta's + people—a force that could have blown the ribs out of the beast had + Chinn's shot failed; but their guns were hidden, and they appeared as + interested beaters, some five or six waiting the word to skin. Bukta + watched the life fade from the wild eyes, lifted one hand, and turned on + his heel. + </p> + <p> + “No need to show that we care,” said he. “Now, after this, we can kill + what we choose. Put out your hand, Sahib.” + </p> + <p> + Chinn obeyed. It was entirely steady, and Bukta nodded. “That also was + your custom. My men skin quickly. They will carry the skin to cantonments. + Will the Sahib come to my poor village for the night and, perhaps, forget + that I am his officer?” + </p> + <p> + “But those men—the beaters. They have worked hard, and perhaps—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, if they skin clumsily, we will skin them. They are my people. In the + lines I am one thing. Here I am another.” + </p> + <p> + This was very true. When Bukta doffed uniform and reverted to the + fragmentary dress of his own people, he left his civilisation of drill in + the next world. That night, after a little talk with his subjects, he + devoted to an orgie; and a Bhil orgie is a thing not to be safely written + about. Chinn, flushed with triumph, was in the thick of it, but the + meaning of the mysteries was hidden. Wild folk came and pressed about his + knees with offerings. He gave his flask to the elders of the village. They + grew eloquent, and wreathed him about with flowers. Gifts and loans, not + all seemly, were thrust upon him, and infernal music rolled and maddened + round red fires, while singers sang songs of the ancient times, and danced + peculiar dances. The aboriginal liquors are very potent, and Chinn was + compelled to taste them often, but, unless the stuff had been drugged, how + came he to fall asleep suddenly, and to waken late the next day—half + a march from the village? + </p> + <p> + “The Sahib was very tired. A little before dawn he went to sleep,” Bukta + explained. “My people carried him here, and now it is time we should go + back to cantonments.” + </p> + <p> + The voice, smooth and deferential, the step, steady and silent, made it + hard to believe that only a few hours before Bukta was yelling and + capering with naked fellow-devils of the scrub. + </p> + <p> + “My people were very pleased to see the Sahib. They will never forget. + When next the Sahib goes out recruiting, he will go to my people, and they + will give him as many men as we need.” + </p> + <p> + Chinn kept his own counsel, except as to the shooting of the tiger, and + Bukta embroidered that tale with a shameless tongue. The skin was + certainly one of the finest ever hung up in the mess, and the first of + many. When Bukta could not accompany his boy on shooting-trips, he took + care to put him in good hands, and Chinn learned more of the mind and + desire of the wild Bhil in his marches and campings, by talks at twilight + or at wayside pools, than an uninstructed man could have come at in a + lifetime. + </p> + <p> + Presently his men in the regiment grew bold to speak of their relatives—mostly + in trouble—and to lay cases of tribal custom before him. They would + say, squatting in his verandah at twilight, after the easy, confidential + style of the Wuddars, that such-and-such a bachelor had run away with + such-and-such a wife at a far-off village. Now, how many cows would Chinn + Sahib consider a just fine? Or, again, if written order came from the + Government that a Bhil was to repair to a walled city of the plains to + give evidence in a law-court, would it be wise to disregard that order? On + the other hand, if it were obeyed, would the rash voyager return alive? + </p> + <p> + “But what have I to do with these things?” Chinn demanded of Bukta, + impatiently. “I am a soldier. I do not know the law.” + </p> + <p> + “Hoo! Law is for fools and white men. Give them a large and loud order, + and they will abide by it. Thou art their law.” + </p> + <p> + “But wherefore?” + </p> + <p> + Every trace of expression left Bukta's countenance. The idea might have + smitten him for the first time. “How can I say?” he replied. “Perhaps it + is on account of the name. A Bhil does not love strange things. Give them + orders, Sahib—two, three, four words at a time such as they can + carry away in their heads. That is enough.” + </p> + <p> + Chinn gave orders then, valiantly, not realising that a word spoken in + haste before mess became the dread unappealable law of villages beyond the + smoky hills was, in truth, no less than the Law of Jan Chinn the First, + who, so the whispered legend ran, had come back to earth, to oversee the + third generation, in the body and bones of his grandson. + </p> + <p> + There could be no sort of doubt in this matter. All the Bhils knew that + Jan Chinn reincarnated had honoured Bukta's village with his presence + after slaying his first—in this life—tiger; that he had eaten + and drunk with the people, as he was used; and—Bukta must have + drugged Chinn's liquor very deeply—upon his back and right shoulder + all men had seen the same angry red Flying Cloud that the high Gods had + set on the flesh of Jan Chinn the First when first he came to the Bhil. As + concerned the foolish white world which has no eyes, he was a slim and + young officer in the Wuddars; but his own people knew he was Jan Chinn, + who had made the Bhil a man; and, believing, they hastened to carry his + words, careful never to alter them on the way. + </p> + <p> + Because the savage and the child who plays lonely games have one horror of + being laughed at or questioned, the little folk kept their convictions to + themselves; and the Colonel, who thought he knew his regiment, never + guessed that each one of the six hundred quick-footed, beady-eyed + rank-and-file, to attention beside their rifles, believed serenely and + unshakenly that the subaltern on the left flank of the line was a demi-god + twice born—tutelary deity of their land and people. The Earth-gods + themselves had stamped the incarnation, and who would dare to doubt the + handiwork of the Earth-gods? + </p> + <p> + Chinn, being practical above all things, saw that his family name served + him well in the lines and in camp. His men gave no trouble—one does + not commit regimental offences with a god in the chair of justice—and + he was sure of the best beaters in the district when he needed them. They + believed that the protection of Jan Chinn the First cloaked them, and were + bold in that belief beyond the utmost daring of excited Bhils. + </p> + <p> + His quarters began to look like an amateur natural-history museum, in + spite of duplicate heads and horns and skulls that he sent home to + Devonshire. The people, very humanly, learned the weak side of their god. + It is true he was unbribable, but bird-skins, butterflies, beetles, and, + above all, news of big game pleased him. In other respects, too, he lived + up to the Chinn tradition. He was fever-proof. A night's sitting out over + a tethered goat in a damp valley, that would have filled the Major with a + month's malaria, had no effect on him. He was, as they said, “salted + before he was born.” + </p> + <p> + Now in the autumn of his second year's service an uneasy rumour crept out + of the earth and ran about among the Bhils. Chinn heard nothing of it till + a brother-officer said across the mess-table: “Your revered ancestor's on + the rampage in the Satpura country. You'd better look him up.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't want to be disrespectful, but I'm a little sick of my revered + ancestor. Bukta talks of nothing else. What's the old boy supposed to be + doing now?” + </p> + <p> + “Riding cross-country by moonlight on his processional tiger. That's the + story. He's been seen by about two thousand Bhils, skipping along the tops + of the Satpuras, and scaring people to death. They believe it devoutly, + and all the Satpura chaps are worshipping away at his shrine—tomb, I + mean—like good uns. You really ought to go down there. Must be a + queer thing to see your grandfather treated as a god.” + </p> + <p> + “What makes you think there's any truth in the tale?” said Chinn. + </p> + <p> + “Because all our men deny it. They say they've never heard of Chinn's + tiger. Now that's a manifest lie, because every Bhil has.” + </p> + <p> + “There's only one thing you've overlooked,” said the Colonel, + thoughtfully. “When a local god reappears on earth, it's always an excuse + for trouble of some kind; and those Satpura Bhils are about as wild as + your grandfather left them, young un. It means something.” + </p> + <p> + “Meanin' they may go on the war-path?” said Chinn. + </p> + <p> + “'Can't say—as yet. 'Shouldn't be surprised a little bit.” + </p> + <p> + “I haven't been told a syllable.” + </p> + <p> + “Proves it all the more. They are keeping something back.” + </p> + <p> + “Bukta tells me everything, too, as a rule. Now, why didn't he tell me + that?” + </p> + <p> + Chinn put the question directly to the old man that night, and the answer + surprised him. + </p> + <p> + “Why should I tell what is well known? Yes, the Clouded Tiger is out in + the Satpura country.” + </p> + <p> + “What do the wild Bhils think that it means?” + </p> + <p> + “They do not know. They wait. Sahib, what is coming? Say only one little + word, and we will be content.” + </p> + <p> + “We? What have tales from the south, where the jungly Bhils live, to do + with drilled men?” + </p> + <p> + “When Jan Chinn wakes is no time for any Bhil to be quiet.” + </p> + <p> + “But he has not waked, Bukta.” + </p> + <p> + “Sahib”—the old man's eyes were full of tender reproof—“if he + does not wish to be seen, why does he go abroad in the moonlight? We know + he is awake, but we do not know what he desires. Is it a sign for all the + Bhils, or one that concerns the Satpura folk alone? Say one little word, + Sahib, that I may carry it to the lines, and send on to our villages. Why + does Jan Chinn ride out? Who has done wrong? Is it pestilence? Is it + murrain? Will our children die? Is it a sword? Remember, Sahib, we are thy + people and thy servants, and in this life I bore thee in my arms—not + knowing.” + </p> + <p> + “Bukta has evidently looked on the cup this evening,” Chinn thought; “but + if I can do anything to soothe the old chap I must. It's like the Mutiny + rumours on a small scale.” + </p> + <p> + He dropped into a deep wicker chair, over which was thrown his first + tiger-skin, and his weight on the cushion flapped the clawed paws over his + shoulders. He laid hold of them mechanically as he spoke, drawing the + painted hide, cloak-fashion, about him. + </p> + <p> + “Now will I tell the truth, Bukta,” he said, leaning forward, the dried + muzzle on his shoulder, to invent a specious lie. + </p> + <p> + “I see that it is the truth,” was the answer, in a shaking voice. + </p> + <p> + “Jan Chinn goes abroad among the Satpuras, riding on the Clouded Tiger, ye + say? Be it so. Therefore the sign of the wonder is for the Satpura Bhils + only, and does not touch the Bhils who plough in the north and east, the + Bhils of the Khandesh, or any others, except the Satpura Bhils, who, as we + know, are wild and foolish.” + </p> + <p> + “It is, then, a sign for them. Good or bad?” + </p> + <p> + “Beyond doubt, good. For why should Jan Chinn make evil to those whom he + has made men? The nights over yonder are hot; it is ill to lie in one bed + over-long without turning, and Jan Chinn would look again upon his people. + So he rises, whistles his Clouded Tiger, and goes abroad a little to + breathe the cool air. If the Satpura Bhils kept to their villages, and did + not wander after dark, they would not see him. Indeed, Bukta, it is no + more than that he would see the light again in his own country. Send this + news south, and say that it is my word.” + </p> + <p> + Bukta bowed to the floor. “Good Heavens!” thought Chinn, “and this + blinking pagan is a first-class officer, and as straight as a die! I may + as well round it off neatly.” He went on: + </p> + <p> + “If the Satpura Bhils ask the meaning of the sign, tell them that Jan + Chinn would see how they kept their old promises of good living. Perhaps + they have plundered; perhaps they mean to disobey the orders of the + Government; perhaps there is a dead man in the jungle; and so Jan Chinn + has come to see.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he, then, angry?” + </p> + <p> + “Bah! Am I ever angry with my Bhils? I say angry words, and threaten many + things. Thou knowest, Bukta. I have seen thee smile behind the hand. I + know, and thou knowest. The Bhils are my children. I have said it many + times.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay. We be thy children,” said Bukta. + </p> + <p> + “And no otherwise is it with Jan Chinn, my father's father. He would see + the land he loved and the people once again. It is a good ghost, Bukta. I + say it. Go and tell them. And I do hope devoutly,” he added, “that it will + calm 'em down.” Flinging back the tiger-skin, he rose with a long, + unguarded yawn that showed his well-kept teeth. + </p> + <p> + Bukta fled, to be received in the lines by a knot of panting inquirers. + </p> + <p> + “It is true,” said Bukta. “He wrapped him-self in the skin, and spoke from + it. He would see his own country again. The sign is not for us; and, + indeed, he is a young man. How should he lie idle of nights? He says his + bed is too hot and the air is bad. He goes to and fro for the love of + night-running. He has said it.” + </p> + <p> + The grey-whiskered assembly shuddered. + </p> + <p> + “He says the Bhils are his children. Ye know he does not lie. He has said + it to me.” + </p> + <p> + “But what of the Satpura Bhils? What means the sign for them?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing. It is only night-running, as I have said. He rides to see if + they obey the Government, as he taught them to do in his first life.” + </p> + <p> + “And what if they do not?” + </p> + <p> + “He did not say.” + </p> + <p> + The light went out in Chinn's quarters. + </p> + <p> + “Look,” said Bukta. “Now he goes away. None the less it is a good ghost, + as he has said. How shall we fear Jan Chinn, who made the Bhil a man? His + protection is on us; and ye know Jan Chinn never broke a protection spoken + or written on paper. When he is older and has found him a wife he will lie + in his bed till morning.” + </p> + <p> + A commanding officer is generally aware of the regimental state of mind a + little before the men; and this is why the Colonel said, a few days later, + that some one had been putting the Fear of God into the Wuddars. As he was + the only person officially entitled to do this, it distressed him to see + such unanimous virtue. “It's too good to last,” he said. “I only wish I + could find out what the little chaps mean.” + </p> + <p> + The explanation, as it seemed to him, came at the change of the moon, when + he received orders to hold himself in readiness to “allay any possible + excitement” among the Satpura Bhils, who were, to put it mildly, uneasy + because a paternal Government had sent up against them a Mahratta + State-educated vaccinator, with lancets, lymph, and an officially + registered calf. In the language of State, they had “manifested a strong + objection to all prophylactic measures,” had “forcibly detained the + vaccinator,” and “were on the point of neglecting or evading their tribal + obligations.” + </p> + <p> + “That means they are in a blue funk—same as they were at + census-time,” said the Colonel; “and if we stampede them into the hills + we'll never catch 'em, in the first place, and, in the second, they'll + whoop off plundering till further orders. 'Wonder who the God-forsaken + idiot is who is trying to vaccinate a Bhil. I knew trouble was coming. One + good thing is that they'll only use local corps, and we can knock up + something we'll call a campaign, and let them down easy. Fancy us potting + our best beaters because they don't want to be vaccinated! They're only + crazy with fear.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you think, sir,” said Chinn, the next day, “that perhaps you could + give me a fortnight's shooting-leave?” + </p> + <p> + “Desertion in the face of the enemy, by Jove!” The Colonel laughed. “I + might, but I'd have to antedate it a little, because we're warned for + service, as you might say. However, we'll assume that you applied for + leave three days ago, and are now well on your way south.” + </p> + <p> + “I'd like to take Bukta with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, yes. I think that will be the best plan. You've some kind of + hereditary influence with the little chaps, and they may listen to you + when a glimpse of our uniforms would drive them wild. You've never been in + that part of the world before, have you? Take care they don't send you to + your family vault in your youth and innocence. I believe you'll be all + right if you can get 'em to listen to you.” + </p> + <p> + “I think so, sir; but if—if they should accidentally put an—make + asses of 'emselves—they might, you know—I hope you'll + represent that they were only frightened. There isn't an ounce of real + vice in 'em, and I should never forgive myself if any one of—of my + name got them into trouble.” + </p> + <p> + The Colonel nodded, but said nothing. + </p> + <p> + Chinn and Bukta departed at once. Bukta did not say that, ever since the + official vaccinator had been dragged into the hills by indignant Bhils, + runner after runner had skulked up to the lines, entreating, with forehead + in the dust, that Jan Chinn should come and explain this unknown horror + that hung over his people. + </p> + <p> + The portent of the Clouded Tiger was now too clear. Let Jan Chinn comfort + his own, for vain was the help of mortal man. Bukta toned down these + beseechings to a simple request for Chinn's presence. Nothing would have + pleased the old man better than a rough-and-tumble campaign against the + Satpuras, whom he, as an “unmixed” Bhil, despised; but he had a duty to + all his nation as Jan Chinn's interpreter; and he devoutly believed that + forty plagues would fall on his village if he tampered with that + obligation. Besides, Jan Chinn knew all things, and he rode the Clouded + Tiger. + </p> + <p> + They covered thirty miles a day on foot and pony, raising the blue + wall-like line of the Satpuras as swiftly as might be. Bukta was very + silent. + </p> + <p> + They began the steep climb a little after noon, but it was near sunset ere + they reached the stone platform clinging to the side of a rifted, + jungle-covered hill, where Jan Chinn the First was laid, as he had + desired, that he might overlook his people. All India is full of neglected + graves that date from the beginning of the eighteenth century—tombs + of forgotten colonels of corps long since disbanded; mates of East India + men who went on shooting expeditions and never came back; factors, agents, + writers, and ensigns of the Honourable the East India Company by hundreds + and thousands and tens of thousands. English folk forget quickly, but + natives have long memories, and if a man has done good in his life it is + remembered after his death. The weathered marble four-square tomb of Jan + Chinn was hung about with wild flowers and nuts, packets of wax and honey, + bottles of native spirits, and infamous cigars, with buffalo horns and + plumes of dried grass. At one end was a rude clay image of a white man, in + the old-fashioned top-hat, riding on a bloated tiger. + </p> + <p> + Bukta salamed reverently as they approached. Chinn bared his head and + began to pick out the blurred inscription. So far as he could read it ran + thus—word for word, and letter for letter: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + To the Memory of JOHN CHINN, Esq. + Late Collector of............ + ....ithout Bloodshed or...error of Authority + Employ.only..cans of Conciliat...and Confiden. + accomplished the...tire Subjection... + a Lawless and Predatory Peop... + ....taching them to...ish Government + by a Conquest over....Minds + The most perma...and rational Mode of Domini.. + ...Governor General and Counc...engal + have ordered thi.....erected + ....arted this Life Aug. 19, 184..Ag... +</pre> + <p> + On the other side of the grave were ancient verses, also very worn. As + much as Chinn could decipher said: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ....the savage band + Forsook their Haunts and b.....is Command + ....mended..rais check a...st for spoil. + And.s.ing Hamlets prove his gene....toil. + Humanit...survey......ights restor.. + A Nation..ield..subdued without a Sword. +</pre> + <p> + For some little time he leaned on the tomb thinking of this dead man of + his own blood, and of the house in Devonshire; then, nodding to the + plains: “Yes; it's a big work all of it even my little share. He must have + been worth knowing.... Bukta, where are my people?” + </p> + <p> + “Not here, Sahib. No man comes here except in full sun. They wait above. + Let us climb and see.” + </p> + <p> + But Chinn, remembering the first law of Oriental diplomacy, in an even + voice answered: “I have come this far only because the Satpura folk are + foolish, and dared not visit our lines. Now bid them wait on me here. I am + not a servant, but the master of Bhils.” + </p> + <p> + “I go—I go,” clucked the old man. Night was falling, and at any + moment Jan Chinn might whistle up his dreaded steed from the darkening + scrub. + </p> + <p> + Now for the first time in a long life Bukta disobeyed a lawful command and + deserted his leader; for he did not come back, but pressed to the flat + table-top of the hill, and called softly. Men stirred all about him—little + trembling men with bows and arrows who had watched the two since noon. + </p> + <p> + “Where is he?” whispered one. + </p> + <p> + “At his own place. He bids you come,” said Bukta. + </p> + <p> + “Now?” + </p> + <p> + “Now.” + </p> + <p> + “Rather let him loose the Clouded Tiger upon us. We do not go.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor I, though I bore him in my arms when he was a child in this his life. + Wait here till the day.” + </p> + <p> + “But surely he will be angry.” + </p> + <p> + “He will be very angry, for he has nothing to eat. But he has said to me + many times that the Bhils are his children. By sunlight I believe this, + but—by moonlight I am not so sure. What folly have ye Satpura pigs + compassed that ye should need him at all?” + </p> + <p> + “One came to us in the name of the Government with little ghost-knives and + a magic calf, meaning to turn us into cattle by the cutting off of our + arms. We were greatly afraid, but we did not kill the man. He is here, + bound—a black man; and we think he comes from the west. He said it + was an order to cut us all with knives—especially the women and the + children. We did not hear that it was an order, so we were afraid, and + kept to our hills. Some of our men have taken ponies and bullocks from the + plains, and others pots and cloths and ear-rings.” + </p> + <p> + “Are any slain?” + </p> + <p> + “By our men? Not yet. But the young men are blown to and fro by many + rumours like flames upon a hill. I sent runners asking for Jan Chinn lest + worse should come to us. It was this fear that he foretold by the sign of + the Clouded Tiger.” + </p> + <p> + “He says it is otherwise,” said Bukta; and he repeated, with + amplifications, all that young Chinn had told him at the conference of the + wicker chair. + </p> + <p> + “Think you,” said the questioner, at last, “that the Government will lay + hands on us?” + </p> + <p> + “Not I,” Bukta rejoined. “Jan Chinn will give an order, and ye will obey. + The rest is between the Government and Jan Chinn. I myself know something + of the ghost-knives and the scratching. It is a charm against the + Smallpox. But how it is done I cannot tell. Nor need that concern you.” + </p> + <p> + “If he stands by us and before the anger of the Government we will most + strictly obey Jan Chinn, except—except we do not go down to that + place to-night.” + </p> + <p> + They could hear young Chinn below them shouting for Bukta; but they + cowered and sat still, expecting the Clouded Tiger. The tomb had been holy + ground for nearly half a century. If Jan Chinn chose to sleep there, who + had better right? But they would not come within eyeshot of the place till + broad day. + </p> + <p> + At first Chinn was exceedingly angry, till it occurred to him that Bukta + most probably had a reason (which, indeed, he had), and his own dignity + might suffer if he yelled without answer. He propped himself against the + foot of the grave, and, alternately dozing and smoking, came through the + warm night proud that he was a lawful, legitimate, fever-proof Chinn. + </p> + <p> + He prepared his plan of action much as his grandfather would have done; + and when Bukta appeared in the morning with a most liberal supply of food, + said nothing of the overnight desertion. Bukta would have been relieved by + an outburst of human anger; but Chinn finished his victual leisurely, and + a cheroot, ere he made any sign. + </p> + <p> + “They are very much afraid,” said Bukta, who was not too bold himself. “It + remains only to give orders. They said they will obey if thou wilt only + stand between them and the Government.” + </p> + <p> + “That I know,” said Chinn, strolling slowly to the table-land. A few of + the elder men stood in an irregular semicircle in an open glade; but the + ruck of people—women and children were hidden in the thicket. They + had no desire to face the first anger of Jan Chinn the First. + </p> + <p> + Seating himself on a fragment of split rock, he smoked his cheroot to the + butt, hearing men breathe hard all about him. Then he cried, so suddenly + that they jumped: + </p> + <p> + “Bring the man that was bound!” + </p> + <p> + A scuffle and a cry were followed by the appearance of a Hindoo + vaccinator, quaking with fear, bound hand and foot, as the Bhils of old + were accustomed to bind their human sacrifices. He was pushed cautiously + before the presence; but young Chinn did not look at him. + </p> + <p> + “I said—the man that was bound. Is it a jest to bring me one tied + like a buffalo? Since when could the Bhil bind folk at his pleasure? Cut!” + </p> + <p> + Half a dozen hasty knives cut away the thongs, and the man crawled to + Chinn, who pocketed his case of lancets and tubes of lymph. Then, sweeping + the semicircle with one comprehensive forefinger, and in the voice of + compliment, he said, clearly and distinctly: “Pigs! + </p> + <p> + “Ai!” whispered Bukta. “Now he speaks. Woe to foolish people!” + </p> + <p> + “I have come on foot from my house” (the assembly shuddered) “to make + clear a matter which any other Satpura Bhil would have seen with both eyes + from a distance. Ye know the Smallpox who pits and scars your children so + that they look like wasp-combs. It is an order of the Government that + whoso is scratched on the arm with these little knives which I hold up is + charmed against her. All Sahibs are thus charmed, and very many Hindoos. + This is the mark of the charm. Look!” + </p> + <p> + He rolled back his sleeve to the armpit and showed the white scars of the + vaccination-mark on his white skin. “Come, all, and look.” + </p> + <p> + A few daring spirits came up, and nodded their heads wisely. There was + certainly a mark, and they knew well what other dread marks were hidden by + the shirt. Merciful was Jan Chinn, that then and there proclaimed his + godhead! + </p> + <p> + “Now all these things the man whom ye bound told you.” + </p> + <p> + “I did—a hundred times; but they answered with blows,” groaned the + operator, chafing his wrists and ankles. + </p> + <p> + “But, being pigs, ye did not believe; and so came I here to save you, + first from Smallpox, next from a great folly of fear, and lastly, it may + be, from the rope and the jail. It is no gain to me; it is no pleasure to + me: but for the sake of that one who is yonder, who made the Bhil a man”—he + pointed down the hill—“I, who am of his blood, the son of his son, + come to turn your people. And I speak the truth, as did Jan Chinn.” + </p> + <p> + The crowd murmured reverently, and men stole out of the thicket by twos + and threes to join it. There was no anger in their god's face. + </p> + <p> + “These are my orders. (Heaven send they'll take 'em, but I seem to have + impressed 'em so far!) I myself will stay among you while this man + scratches your arms with the knives, after the order of the Government. In + three, or it may be five or seven, days, your arms will swell and itch and + burn. That is the power of Smallpox fighting in your base blood against + the orders of the Government I will therefore stay among you till I see + that Smallpox is conquered, and I will not go away till the men and the + women and the little children show me upon their arms such marks as I have + even now showed you. I bring with me two very good guns, and a man whose + name is known among beasts and men. We will hunt together, I and he and + your young men, and the others shall eat and lie still. This is my order.” + </p> + <p> + There was a long pause while victory hung in the balance. A white-haired + old sinner, standing on one uneasy leg, piped up: + </p> + <p> + “There are ponies and some few bullocks and other things for which we need + a kowl [protection]. They were not taken in the way of trade.” + </p> + <p> + The battle was won, and John Chinn drew a breath of relief. The young + Bhils had been raiding, but if taken swiftly all could be put straight. + </p> + <p> + “I will write a kowl so soon as the ponies, the bullocks, and the other + things are counted before me and sent back whence they came. But first we + will put the Government mark on such as have not been visited by + Smallpox.” In an undertone, to the vaccinator: “If you show you are afraid + you'll never see Poona again, my friend.” + </p> + <p> + “There is not sufficient ample supply of vaccination for all this + population,” said the man. “They destroyed the offeecial calf.” + </p> + <p> + “They won't know the difference. Scrape 'em and give me a couple of + lancets; I'll attend to the elders.” + </p> + <p> + The aged diplomat who had demanded protection was the first victim. He + fell to Chinn's hand and dared not cry out. As soon as he was freed he + dragged up a companion, and held him fast, and the crisis became, as it + were, a child's sport; for the vaccinated chased the unvaccinated to + treatment, vowing that all the tribe must suffer equally. The women + shrieked, and the children ran howling; but Chinn laughed, and waved the + pink-tipped lancet. + </p> + <p> + “It is an honour,” he cried. “Tell them, Bukta, how great an honour it is + that I myself mark them. Nay, I cannot mark every one—the Hindoo + must also do his work—but I will touch all marks that he makes, so + there will be an equal virtue in them. Thus do the Rajputs stick pigs. Ho, + brother with one eye! Catch that girl and bring her to me. She need not + run away yet, for she is not married, and I do not seek her in marriage. + She will not come? Then she shall be shamed by her little brother, a fat + boy, a bold boy. He puts out his arm like a soldier. Look! He does not + flinch at the blood. Some day he shall be in my regiment. And now, mother + of many, we will lightly touch thee, for Smallpox has been before us here. + It is a true thing, indeed, that this charm breaks the power of Mata. + There will be no more pitted faces among the Satpuras, and so ye can ask + many cows for each maid to be wed.” + </p> + <p> + And so on and so on—quick-poured showman's patter, sauced in the + Bhil hunting-proverbs and tales of their own brand of coarse humour till + the lancets were blunted and both operators worn out. + </p> + <p> + But, nature being the same the world over, the unvaccinated grew jealous + of their marked comrades, and came near to blows about it. Then Chinn + declared himself a court of justice, no longer a medical board, and made + formal inquiry into the late robberies. + </p> + <p> + “We are the thieves of Mahadeo,” said the Bhils, simply. “It is our fate, + and we were frightened. When we are frightened we always steal.” + </p> + <p> + Simply and directly as children, they gave in the tale of the plunder, all + but two bullocks and some spirits that had gone amissing (these Chinn + promised to make good out of his own pocket), and ten ringleaders were + despatched to the lowlands with a wonderful document, written on the leaf + of a note-book, and addressed to an Assistant District Superintendent of + Police. There was warm calamity in that note, as Jan Chinn warned them, + but anything was better than loss of liberty. + </p> + <p> + Armed with this protection, the repentant raiders went down-hill. They had + no desire whatever to meet Mr. Dundas Fawne of the Police, aged + twenty-two, and of a cheerful countenance, nor did they wish to revisit + the scene of their robberies. Steering a middle course, they ran into the + camp of the one Government chaplain allowed to the various irregular corps + through a district of some fifteen thousand square miles, and stood before + him in a cloud of dust. He was by way of being a priest, they knew, and, + what was more to the point, a good sportsman who paid his beaters + generously. + </p> + <p> + When he read Chinn's note he laughed, which they deemed a lucky omen, till + he called up policemen, who tethered the ponies and the bullocks by the + piled house-gear, and laid stern hands upon three of that smiling band of + the thieves of Mahadeo. The chaplain himself addressed them magisterially + with a riding-whip. That was painful, but Jan Chinn had prophesied it. + They submitted, but would not give up the written protection, fearing the + jail. On their way back they met Mr. D. Fawne, who had heard about the + robberies, and was not pleased. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said the eldest of the gang, when the second interview was at + an end, “certainly Jan Chinn's protection has saved us our liberty, but it + is as though there were many beatings in one small piece of paper. Put it + away.” + </p> + <p> + One climbed into a tree, and stuck the letter into a cleft forty feet from + the ground, where it could do no harm. Warmed, sore, but happy, the ten + returned to Jan Chinn next day, where he sat among uneasy Bhils, all + looking at their right arms, and all bound under terror of their god's + disfavour not to scratch. + </p> + <p> + “It was a good kowl,” said the leader. “First the chaplain, who laughed, + took away our plunder, and beat three of us, as was promised. Next, we + meet Fawne Sahib, who frowned, and asked for the plunder. We spoke the + truth, and so he beat us all, one after another, and called us chosen + names. He then gave us these two bundles”—they set down a bottle of + whisky and a box of cheroots—“and we came away. The kowl is left in + a tree, because its virtue is that so soon as we show it to a Sahib we are + beaten.” + </p> + <p> + “But for that kowl” said Jan Chinn, sternly, “ye would all have been + marching to jail with a policeman on either side. Ye come now to serve as + beaters for me. These people are unhappy, and we will go hunting till they + are well. To-night we will make a feast.” + </p> + <p> + It is written in the chronicles of the Satpura Bhils, together with many + other matters not fit for print, that through five days, after the day + that he had put his mark upon them, Jan Chinn the First hunted for his + people; and on the five nights of those days the tribe was gloriously and + entirely drunk. Jan Chinn bought country spirits of an awful strength, and + slew wild pig and deer beyond counting, so that if any fell sick they + might have two good reasons. + </p> + <p> + Between head—and stomach-aches they found no time to think of their + arms, but followed Jan Chinn obediently through the jungles, and with each + day's returning confidence men, women, and children stole away to their + villages as the little army passed by. They carried news that it was good + and right to be scratched with ghost-knives; that Jan Chinn was indeed + reincarnated as a god of free food and drink, and that of all nations the + Satpura Bhils stood first in his favour, if they would only refrain from + scratching. Henceforward that kindly demi-god would be connected in their + minds with great gorgings and the vaccine and lancets of a paternal + Government. + </p> + <p> + “And to-morrow I go back to my home,” said Jan Chinn to his faithful few, + whom neither spirits, overeating, nor swollen glands could conquer. It is + hard for children and savages to behave reverently at all times to the + idols of their make-belief; and they had frolicked excessively with Jan + Chinn. But the reference to his home cast a gloom on the people. + </p> + <p> + “And the Sahib will not come again?” said he who had been vaccinated + first. + </p> + <p> + “That is to be seen,” answered Chinn, warily. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, but come as a white man—come as a young man whom we know and + love; for, as thou alone knowest, we are a weak people. If we again saw + thy—thy horse—” They were picking up their courage. + </p> + <p> + “I have no horse. I came on foot with Bukta, yonder. What is this?” + </p> + <p> + “Thou knowest—the thing that thou hast chosen for a night-horse.” + The little men squirmed in fear and awe. + </p> + <p> + “Night-horses? Bukta, what is this last tale of children?” + </p> + <p> + Bukta had been a silent leader in Chinn's presence since the night of his + desertion, and was grateful for a chance-flung question. + </p> + <p> + “They know, Sahib,” he whispered. “It is the Clouded Tiger. That that + comes from the place where thou didst once sleep. It is thy horse—as + it has been these three generations.” + </p> + <p> + “My horse! That was a dream of the Bhils.” + </p> + <p> + “It is no dream. Do dreams leave the tracks of broad pugs on earth? Why + make two faces before thy people? They know of the night-ridings, and they—and + they—” + </p> + <p> + “Are afraid, and would have them cease.” + </p> + <p> + Bukta nodded. “If thou hast no further need of him. He is thy horse.” + </p> + <p> + “The thing leaves a trail, then?” said Chinn. + </p> + <p> + “We have seen it. It is like a village road under the tomb.” + </p> + <p> + “Can ye find and follow it for me?” + </p> + <p> + “By daylight—if one comes with us, and, above all, stands near by.” + </p> + <p> + “I will stand close, and we will see to it that Jan Chinn does not ride + any more.” + </p> + <p> + The Bhils shouted the last words again and again. + </p> + <p> + From Chinn's point of view the stalk was nothing more than an ordinary one—down-hill, + through split and crannied rocks, unsafe, perhaps, if a man did not keep + his wits by him, but no worse than twenty others he had undertaken. Yet + his men—they refused absolutely to beat, and would only trail—dripped + sweat at every move. They showed the marks of enormous pugs that ran, + always down-hill, to a few hundred feet below Jan Chinn's tomb, and + disappeared in a narrow-mouthed cave. It was an insolently open road, a + domestic highway, beaten without thought of concealment. + </p> + <p> + “The beggar might be paying rent and taxes,” Chinn muttered ere he asked + whether his friend's taste ran to cattle or man. + </p> + <p> + “Cattle,” was the answer. “Two heifers a week. We drive them for him at + the foot of the hill. It is his custom. If we did not, he might seek us.” + </p> + <p> + “Blackmail and piracy,” said Chinn. “I can't say I fancy going into the + cave after him. What's to be done?” + </p> + <p> + The Bhils fell back as Chinn lodged himself behind a rock with his rifle + ready. Tigers, he knew, were shy beasts, but one who had been long + cattle-fed in this sumptuous style might prove overbold. + </p> + <p> + “He speaks!” some one whispered from the rear. “He knows, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, of all the infernal cheek!” said Chinn. There was an angry growl + from the cave—a direct challenge. + </p> + <p> + “Come out, then,” Chinn shouted. “Come out of that. Let's have a look at + you.” The brute knew well enough that there was some connection between + brown nude Bhils and his weekly allowance; but the white helmet in the + sunlight annoyed him, and he did not approve of the voice that broke his + rest. Lazily as a gorged snake, he dragged himself out of the cave, and + stood yawning and blinking at the entrance. The sunlight fell upon his + flat right side, and Chinn wondered. Never had he seen a tiger marked + after this fashion. Except for his head, which was staringly barred, he + was dappled—not striped, but dappled like a child's rocking-horse in + rich shades of smoky black on red gold. That portion of his belly and + throat which should have been white was orange, and his tail and paws were + black. + </p> + <p> + He looked leisurely for some ten seconds, and then deliberately lowered + his head, his chin dropped and drawn in, staring intently at the man. The + effect of this was to throw forward the round arch of his skull, with two + broad bands across it, while below the bands glared the unwinking eyes; so + that, head on, as he stood, he showed something like a diabolically + scowling pantomime-mask. It was a piece of natural mesmerism that he had + practised many times on his quarry, and though Chinn was by no means a + terrified heifer, he stood for a while, held by the extraordinary oddity + of the attack. The head—the body seemed to have been packed away + behind it—the ferocious, skull-like head, crept nearer to the + switching of an angry tail-tip in the grass. Left and right the Bhils had + scattered to let John Chinn subdue his own horse. + </p> + <p> + “My word!” he thought. “He's trying to frighten me!” and fired between the + saucer-like eyes, leaping aside upon the shot. + </p> + <p> + A big coughing mass, reeking of carrion, bounded past him up the hill, and + he followed discreetly. The tiger made no attempt to turn into the jungle; + he was hunting for sight and breath—nose up, mouth open, the + tremendous fore-legs scattering the gravel in spurts. + </p> + <p> + “Scuppered!” said John Chinn, watching the flight. “Now if he was a + partridge he'd tower. Lungs must be full of blood.” + </p> + <p> + The brute had jerked himself over a boulder and fallen out of sight the + other side. John Chinn looked over with a ready barrel. But the red trail + led straight as an arrow even to his grandfather's tomb, and there, among + the smashed spirit-bottles and the fragments of the mud image, the life + left, with a flurry and a grunt. + </p> + <p> + “If my worthy ancestor could see that,” said John Chinn, “he'd have been + proud of me. Eyes, lower jaw, and lungs. A very nice shot.” He whistled + for Bukta as he drew the tape over the stiffening bulk. + </p> + <p> + “Ten—six—eight—by Jove! It's nearly eleven—call it + eleven. Fore-arm, twenty-four—five—seven and a half. A short + tail, too: three feet one. But what a skin! Oh, Bukta! Bukta! The men with + the knives swiftly.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he beyond question dead?” said an awe-stricken voice behind a rock. + </p> + <p> + “That was not the way I killed my first tiger,” said Chinn. “I did not + think that Bukta would run. I had no second gun.” + </p> + <p> + “It—it is the Clouded Tiger,” said Bukta, un-heeding the taunt. + </p> + <p> + “He is dead.” + </p> + <p> + Whether all the Bhils, vaccinated and unvaccinated, of the Satpuras had + lain by to see the kill, Chinn could not say; but the whole hill's flank + rustled with little men, shouting, singing, and stamping. And yet, till he + had made the first cut in the splendid skin, not a man would take a knife; + and, when the shadows fell, they ran from the red-stained tomb, and no + persuasion would bring them back till dawn. So Chinn spent a second night + in the open, guarding the carcass from jackals, and thinking about his + ancestor. + </p> + <p> + He returned to the lowlands to the triumphal chant of an escorting army + three hundred strong, the Mahratta vaccinator close at his elbow, and the + rudely dried skin a trophy before him. When that army suddenly and + noiselessly disappeared, as quail in high corn, he argued he was near + civilisation, and a turn in the road brought him upon the camp of a wing + of his own corps. He left the skin on a cart-tail for the world to see, + and sought the Colonel. + </p> + <p> + “They're perfectly right,” he explained earnestly. “There isn't an ounce + of vice in 'em. They were only frightened. I've vaccinated the whole + boiling, and they like it awfully. What are—what are we doing here, + sir?” + </p> + <p> + “That's what I'm trying to find out,” said the Colonel. “I don't know yet + whether we're a piece of a brigade or a police force. However, I think + we'll call ourselves a police force. How did you manage to get a Bhil + vaccinated?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir,” said Chinn, “I've been thinking it over, and, as far as I can + make out, I've got a sort of hereditary influence over 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “So I know, or I wouldn't have sent you; but what, exactly?” + </p> + <p> + “It's rather rummy. It seems, from what I can make out, that I'm my own + grandfather reincarnated, and I've been disturbing the peace of the + country by riding a pad-tiger of nights. If I hadn't done that, I don't + think they'd have objected to the vaccination; but the two together were + more than they could stand. And so, sir, I've vaccinated 'em, and shot my + tiger-horse as a sort o' proof of good faith. You never saw such a skin in + your life.” + </p> + <p> + The Colonel tugged his moustache thought-fully. “Now, how the deuce,” said + he, “am I to include that in my report?” + </p> + <p> + Indeed, the official version of the Bhils' anti-vaccination stampede said + nothing about Lieutenant John Chinn, his godship. But Bukta knew, and the + corps knew, and every Bhil in the Satpura hills knew. + </p> + <p> + And now Bukta is zealous that John Chinn shall swiftly be wedded and + impart his powers to a son; for if the Chinn succession fails, and the + little Bhils are left to their own imaginings, there will be fresh trouble + in the Satpuras. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE DEVIL AND THE DEEP SEA + </h2> + <p> + All supplies very bad and dear, and there are no facilities for even the + smallest repairs.—Sailing Directions. + </p> + <p> + Her nationality was British, but you will not find her house-flag in the + list of our mercantile marine. She was a nine-hundred-ton, iron, + schooner-rigged, screw cargo-boat, differing externally in no way from any + other tramp of the sea. But it is with steamers as it is with men. There + are those who will for a consideration sail extremely close to the wind; + and, in the present state of a fallen world, such people and such steamers + have their use. From the hour that the Aglaia first entered the Clyde—new, + shiny, and innocent, with a quart of cheap champagne trickling down her + cut-water—Fate and her owner, who was also her captain, decreed that + she should deal with embarrassed crowned heads, fleeing Presidents, + financiers of over-extended ability, women to whom change of air was + imperative, and the lesser law-breaking Powers. Her career led her + sometimes into the Admiralty Courts, where the sworn statements of her + skipper filled his brethren with envy. The mariner cannot tell or act a + lie in the face of the sea, or mis-lead a tempest; but, as lawyers have + discovered, he makes up for chances withheld when he returns to shore, an + affidavit in either hand. + </p> + <p> + The Aglaia figured with distinction in the great Mackinaw salvage-case. It + was her first slip from virtue, and she learned how to change her name, + but not her heart, and to run across the sea. As the Guiding Light she was + very badly wanted in a South American port for the little matter of + entering harbour at full speed, colliding with a coal-hulk and the State's + only man-of-war, just as that man-of-war was going to coal. She put to sea + without explanations, though three forts fired at her for half an hour. As + the Julia M'Gregor she had been concerned in picking up from a raft + certain gentlemen who should have stayed in Noumea, but who preferred + making themselves vastly unpleasant to authority in quite another quarter + of the world; and as the Shah-in-Shah she had been overtaken on the high + seas, indecently full of munitions of war, by the cruiser of an agitated + Power at issue with its neighbour. That time she was very nearly sunk, and + her riddled hull gave eminent lawyers of two countries great profit. After + a season she reappeared as the Martin Hunt painted a dull slate-colour, + with pure saffron funnel, and boats of robin's-egg blue, engaging in the + Odessa trade till she was invited (and the invitation could not well be + disregarded) to keep away from Black Sea ports altogether. + </p> + <p> + She had ridden through many waves of depression. Freights might drop out + of sight, Seamen's Unions throw spanners and nuts at certificated masters, + or stevedores combine till cargo perished on the dock-head; but the boat + of many names came and went, busy, alert, and inconspicuous always. Her + skipper made no complaint of hard times, and port officers observed that + her crew signed and signed again with the regularity of Atlantic liner + boatswains. Her name she changed as occasion called; her well-paid crew + never; and a large percentage of the profits of her voyages was spent with + an open hand on her engine-room. She never troubled the underwriters, and + very seldom stopped to talk with a signal-station, for her business was + urgent and private. + </p> + <p> + But an end came to her tradings, and she perished in this manner. Deep + peace brooded over Europe, Asia, Africa, America, Australasia, and + Polynesia. The Powers dealt together more or less honestly; banks paid + their depositors to the hour; diamonds of price came safely to the hands + of their owners; Republics rested content with their Dictators; diplomats + found no one whose presence in the least incommoded them; monarchs lived + openly with their lawfully wedded wives. It was as though the whole earth + had put on its best Sunday bib and tucker; and business was very bad for + the Martin Hunt. The great, virtuous calm engulfed her, slate sides, + yellow funnel, and all, but cast up in another hemisphere the steam whaler + Haliotis, black and rusty, with a manure-coloured funnel, a litter of + dingy white boats, and an enormous stove, or furnace, for boiling blubber + on her forward well-deck. There could be no doubt that her trip was + successful, for she lay at several ports not too well known, and the smoke + of her trying-out insulted the beaches. + </p> + <p> + Anon she departed, at the speed of the average London four-wheeler, and + entered a semi-inland sea, warm, still, and blue, which is, perhaps, the + most strictly preserved water in the world. There she stayed for a certain + time, and the great stars of those mild skies beheld her playing + puss-in-the-corner among islands where whales are never found. All that + while she smelt abominably, and the smell, though fishy, was not + whalesome. One evening calamity descended upon her from the island of + Pygang-Watai, and she fled, while her crew jeered at a fat black-and-brown + gunboat puffing far behind. They knew to the last revolution the capacity + of every boat, on those seas, that they were anxious to avoid. A British + ship with a good conscience does not, as a rule, flee from the man-of-war + of a foreign Power, and it is also considered a breach of etiquette to + stop and search British ships at sea. These things the skipper of the + Haliotis did not pause to prove, but held on at an inspiriting eleven + knots an hour till nightfall. One thing only he overlooked. + </p> + <p> + The Power that kept an expensive steam-patrol moving up and down those + waters (they had dodged the two regular ships of the station with an ease + that bred contempt) had newly brought up a third and a fourteen-knot boat + with a clean bottom to help the work; and that was why the Haliotis, + driving hard from the east to the west, found herself at daylight in such + a position that she could not help seeing an arrangement of four flags, a + mile and a half behind, which read: “Heave to, or take the consequences!” + </p> + <p> + She had her choice, and she took it. The end came when, presuming on her + lighter draught, she tried to draw away northward over a friendly shoal. + The shell that arrived by way of the Chief Engineer's cabin was some five + inches in diameter, with a practice, not a bursting, charge. It had been + intended to cross her bows, and that was why it knocked the framed + portrait of the Chief Engineer's wife—and she was a very pretty girl—on + to the floor, splintered his wash-hand stand, crossed the alleyway into + the engine-room, and striking on a grating, dropped directly in front of + the forward engine, where it burst, neatly fracturing both the bolts that + held the connecting-rod to the forward crank. + </p> + <p> + What follows is worth consideration. The forward engine had no more work + to do. Its released piston-rod, therefore, drove up fiercely, with nothing + to check it, and started most of the nuts of the cylinder-cover. It came + down again, the full weight of the steam behind it, and the foot of the + disconnected connecting-rod, useless as the leg of a man with a sprained + ankle, flung out to the right and struck the starboard, or right-hand, + cast-iron supporting-column of the forward engine, cracking it clean + through about six inches above the base, and wedging the upper portion + outwards three inches towards the ship's side. There the connecting-rod + jammed. Meantime, the after-engine, being as yet unembarrassed, went on + with its work, and in so doing brought round at its next revolution the + crank of the forward engine, which smote the already jammed + connecting-rod, bending it and therewith the piston-rod cross-head—the + big cross-piece that slides up and down so smoothly. + </p> + <p> + The cross-head jammed sideways in the guides, and, in addition to putting + further pressure on the already broken starboard supporting-column, + cracked the port, or left-hand, supporting-column in two or three places. + There being nothing more that could be made to move, the engines brought + up, all standing, with a hiccup that seemed to lift the Haliotis a foot + out of the water; and the engine-room staff, opening every steam outlet + that they could find in the confusion, arrived on deck somewhat scalded, + but calm. There was a sound below of things happening—a rushing, + clicking, purring, grunting, rattling noise that did not last for more + than a minute. It was the machinery adjusting itself, on the spur of the + moment, to a hundred altered conditions. Mr. Wardrop, one foot on the + upper grating, inclined his ear sideways, and groaned. You cannot stop + engines working at twelve knots an hour in three seconds without + disorganising them. The Haliotis slid forward in a cloud of steam, + shrieking like a wounded horse. There was nothing more to do. The + five-inch shell with a reduced charge had settled the situation. And when + you are full, all three holds, of strictly preserved pearls; when you have + cleaned out the Tanna Bank, the Sea-Horse Bank, and four other banks from + one end to the other of the Amanala Sea—when you have ripped out the + very heart of a rich Government monopoly so that five years will not + repair your wrong-doings—you must smile and take what is in store. + But the skipper reflected, as a launch put out from the man-of-war, that + he had been bombarded on the high seas, with the British flag—several + of them—picturesquely disposed above him, and tried to find comfort + from the thought. + </p> + <p> + “Where,” said the stolid naval lieutenant hoisting himself aboard, “where + are those dam' pearls?” + </p> + <p> + They were there beyond evasion. No affidavit could do away with the + fearful smell of decayed oysters, the diving-dresses, and the + shell-littered hatches. They were there to the value of seventy thousand + pounds, more or less; and every pound poached. + </p> + <p> + The man-of-war was annoyed; for she had used up many tons of coal, she had + strained her tubes, and, worse than all, her officers and crew had been + hurried. Every one on the Haliotis was arrested and rearrested several + times, as each officer came aboard; then they were told by what they + esteemed to be the equivalent of a midshipman that they were to consider + themselves prisoners, and finally were put under arrest. + </p> + <p> + “It's not the least good,” said the skipper, suavely. “You'd much better + send us a tow—” + </p> + <p> + “Be still—you are arrest!” was the reply. + </p> + <p> + “Where the devil do you expect we are going to escape to? We're helpless. + You've got to tow us into somewhere, and explain why you fired on us. Mr. + Wardrop, we're helpless, aren't we?” + </p> + <p> + “Ruined from end to end,” said the man of machinery. “If she rolls, the + forward cylinder will come down and go through her bottom. Both columns + are clean cut through. There's nothing to hold anything up.” + </p> + <p> + The council of war clanked off to see if Mr. Wardrop's words were true. He + warned them that it was as much as a man's life was worth to enter the + engine-room, and they contented themselves with a distant inspection + through the thinning steam. The Haliotis lifted to the long, easy swell, + and the starboard supporting-column ground a trifle, as a man grits his + teeth under the knife. The forward cylinder was depending on that unknown + force men call the pertinacity of materials, which now and then balances + that other heartbreaking power, the perversity of inanimate things. + </p> + <p> + “You see!” said Mr. Wardrop, hurrying them away. “The engines aren't worth + their price as old iron.” + </p> + <p> + “We tow,” was the answer. “Afterwards we shall confiscate.” + </p> + <p> + The man-of-war was short-handed, and did not see the necessity for putting + a prize-crew aboard the Haliotis. So she sent one sublieutenant, whom the + skipper kept very drunk, for he did not wish to make the tow too easy, + and, moreover, he had an inconspicuous little rope hanging from the stem + of his ship. + </p> + <p> + Then they began to tow at an average speed of four knots an hour. The + Haliotis was very hard to move, and the gunnery-lieutenant, who had fired + the five-inch shell, had leisure to think upon consequences. Mr. Wardrop + was the busy man. He borrowed all the crew to shore up the cylinders with + spars and blocks from the bottom and sides of the ship. It was a day's + risky work; but anything was better than drowning at the end of a + tow-rope; and if the forward cylinder had fallen, it would have made its + way to the sea-bed, and taken the Haliotis after. + </p> + <p> + “Where are we going to, and how long will they tow us?” he asked of the + skipper. + </p> + <p> + “God knows! and this prize-lieutenant's drunk. What do you think you can + do?” + </p> + <p> + “There's just the bare chance,” Mr. Wardrop whispered, though no one was + within hearing—“there's just the bare chance o' repairin' her, if a + man knew how. They've twisted the very guts out of her, bringing her up + with that jerk; but I'm saying that, with time and patience, there's just + the chance o' making steam yet. We could do it.” + </p> + <p> + The skipper's eye brightened. “Do you mean,” he began, “that she is any + good?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no,” said Mr. Wardrop. “She'll need three thousand pounds in repairs, + at the lowest, if she's to take the sea again, an' that apart from any + injury to her structure. She's like a man fallen down five pair o' stairs. + We can't tell for months what has happened; but we know she'll never be + good again without a new inside. Ye should see the condenser-tubes an' the + steam connections to the donkey, for two things only. I'm not afraid of + them repairin' her. I'm afraid of them stealin' things.” + </p> + <p> + “They've fired on us. They'll have to explain that.” + </p> + <p> + “Our reputation's not good enough to ask for explanations. Let's take what + we have and be thankful. Ye would not have consuls remembern' the Guidin' + Light, an' the Shah-in-Shah, an' the Aglaia, at this most alarmin' crisis. + We've been no better than pirates these ten years. Under Providence we're + no worse than thieves now. We've much to be thankful for—if we e'er + get back to her.” + </p> + <p> + “Make it your own way, then,” said the skipper. “If there's the least + chance—” + </p> + <p> + “I'll leave none,” said Mr. Wardrop—“none that they'll dare to take. + Keep her heavy on the tow, for we need time.” + </p> + <p> + The skipper never interfered with the affairs of the engine-room, and Mr. + Wardrop—an artist in his profession—turned to and composed a + work terrible and forbidding. His background was the dark-grained sides of + the engine-room; his material the metals of power and strength, helped out + with spars, baulks, and ropes. The man-of-war towed sullenly and + viciously. The Haliotis behind her hummed like a hive before swarming. + With extra and totally unneeded spars her crew blocked up the space round + the forward engine till it resembled a statue in its scaffolding, and the + butts of the shores interfered with every view that a dispassionate eye + might wish to take. And that the dispassionate mind might be swiftly + shaken out of its calm, the well-sunk bolts of the shores were wrapped + round untidily with loose ends of ropes, giving a studied effect of most + dangerous insecurity. Next, Mr. Wardrop took up a collection from the + after-engine, which, as you will remember, had not been affected in the + general wreck. The cylinder escape-valve he abolished with a + flogging-hammer. It is difficult in far-off ports to come by such valves, + unless, like Mr. Wardrop, you keep duplicates in store. At the same time + men took off the nuts of two of the great holding-down bolts that serve to + keep the engines in place on their solid bed. An engine violently arrested + in mid-career may easily jerk off the nut of a holding-down bolt, and this + accident looked very natural. + </p> + <p> + Passing along the tunnel, he removed several shaft coupling-bolts and—nuts, + scattering other and ancient pieces of iron underfoot. Cylinder-bolts he + cut off to the number of six from the after-engine cylinder, so that it + might match its neighbour, and stuffed the bilge—and feed-pumps with + cotton-waste. Then he made up a neat bundle of the various odds and ends + that he had gathered from the engines—little things like nuts and + valve-spindles, all carefully tallowed—and retired with them under + the floor of the engine-room, where he sighed, being fat, as he passed + from manhole to manhole of the double bottom, and in a fairly dry + submarine compartment hid them. Any engineer, particularly in an + unfriendly port, has a right to keep his spare stores where he chooses; + and the foot of one of the cylinder shores blocked all entrance into the + regular store-room, even if that had not been already closed with steel + wedges. In conclusion, he disconnected the after-engine, laid piston and + connecting-rod, carefully tallowed, where it would be most inconvenient to + the casual visitor, took out three of the eight collars of the + thrust-block, hid them where only he could find them again, filled the + boilers by hand, wedged the sliding doors of the coal-bunkers, and rested + from his labours. The engine-room was a cemetery, and it did not need the + contents of the ash-lift through the skylight to make it any worse. + </p> + <p> + He invited the skipper to look at the completed work. + </p> + <p> + “Saw ye ever such a forsaken wreck as that?” said he, proudly. “It almost + frights me to go under those shores. Now, what d' you think they'll do to + us?” + </p> + <p> + “Wait till we see,” said the skipper. “It'll be bad enough when it comes.” + </p> + <p> + He was not wrong. The pleasant days of towing ended all too soon, though + the Haliotis trailed behind her a heavily weighted jib stayed out into the + shape of a pocket; and Mr. Wardrop was no longer an artist of imagination, + but one of seven-and-twenty prisoners in a prison full of insects. The + man-of-war had towed them to the nearest port, not to the headquarters of + the colony, and when Mr. Wardrop saw the dismal little harbour, with its + ragged line of Chinese junks, its one crazy tug, and the boat-building + shed that, under the charge of a philosophical Malay, represented a + dockyard, he sighed and shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I did well,” he said. “This is the habitation o' wreckers an' thieves. + We're at the uttermost ends of the earth. Think you they'll ever know in + England?” + </p> + <p> + “Doesn't look like it,” said the skipper. + </p> + <p> + They were marched ashore with what they stood up in, under a generous + escort, and were judged according to the customs of the country, which, + though excellent, are a little out of date. There were the pearls; there + were the poachers; and there sat a small but hot Governor. He consulted + for a while, and then things began to move with speed, for he did not wish + to keep a hungry crew at large on the beach, and the man-of-war had gone + up the coast. With a wave of his hand—a stroke of the pen was not + necessary—he consigned them to the black gang-tana, the + back-country, and the hand of the Law removed them from his sight and the + knowledge of men. They were marched into the palms, and the back-country + swallowed them up—all the crew of the Haliotis. + </p> + <p> + Deep peace continued to brood over Europe, Asia, Africa, America, + Australasia, and Polynesia. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + It was the firing that did it. They should have kept their counsel; but + when a few thousand foreigners are bursting with joy over the fact that a + ship under the British flag has been fired at on the high seas, news + travels quickly; and when it came out that the pearl-stealing crew had not + been allowed access to their consul (there was no consul within a few + hundred miles of that lonely port) even the friendliest of Powers has a + right to ask questions. The great heart of the British public was beating + furiously on account of the performance of a notorious race-horse, and had + not a throb to waste on distant accidents; but somewhere deep in the hull + of the ship of State there is machinery which more or less accurately + takes charge of foreign affairs. That machinery began to revolve, and who + so shocked and surprised as the Power that had captured the Haliotis? It + explained that colonial governors and far-away men-of-war were difficult + to control, and promised that it would most certainly make an example both + of the Governor and the vessel. As for the crew reported to be pressed + into military service in tropical climes, it would produce them as soon as + possible, and it would apologise, if necessary. Now, no apologies were + needed. When one nation apologises to another, millions of amateurs who + have no earthly concern with the difficulty hurl themselves into the + strife and embarrass the trained specialist. It was requested that the + crew be found, if they were still alive—they had been eight months + beyond knowledge—and it was promised that all would be forgotten. + </p> + <p> + The little Governor of the little port was pleased with himself. + Seven-and-twenty white men made a very compact force to throw away on a + war that had neither beginning nor end—a jungle and stockade fight + that flickered and smouldered through the wet hot years in the hills a + hundred miles away, and was the heritage of every wearied official. He + had, he thought, deserved well of his country; and if only some one would + buy the unhappy Haliotis, moored in the harbour below his verandah, his + cup would be full. He looked at the neatly silvered lamps that he had + taken from her cabins, and thought of much that might be turned to + account. But his countrymen in that moist climate had no spirit. They + would peep into the silent engine-room, and shake their heads. Even the + men-of-war would not tow her further up the coast, where the Governor + believed that she could be repaired. She was a bad bargain; but her cabin + carpets were undeniably beautiful, and his wife approved of her mirrors. + </p> + <p> + Three hours later cables were bursting round him like shells, for, though + he knew it not, he was being offered as a sacrifice by the nether to the + upper millstone, and his superiors had no regard for his feelings. He had, + said the cables, grossly exceeded his power, and failed to report on + events. He would, therefore—at this he cast himself back in his + hammock—produce the crew of the Haliotis. He would send for them, + and, if that failed, he would put his dignity on a pony and fetch them + himself. He had no conceivable right to make pearl-poachers serve in any + war. He would be held responsible. + </p> + <p> + Next morning the cables wished to know whether he had found the crew of + the Haliotis. They were to be found, freed and fed—he was to feed + them—till such time as they could be sent to the nearest English + port in a man-of-war. If you abuse a man long enough in great words + flashed over the sea-beds, things happen. The Governor sent inland swiftly + for his prisoners, who were also soldiers; and never was a militia + regiment more anxious to reduce its strength. No power short of death + could make these mad men wear the uniform of their service. They would not + fight, except with their fellows, and it was for that reason the regiment + had not gone to war, but stayed in a stockade, reasoning with the new + troops. The autumn campaign had been a fiasco, but here were the + Englishmen. All the regiment marched back to guard them, and the hairy + enemy, armed with blow-pipes, rejoiced in the forest. Five of the crew had + died, but there lined up on the Governor's verandah two-and-twenty men + marked about the legs with the scars of leech-bites. A few of them wore + fringes that had once been trousers; the others used loin-cloths of gay + patterns; and they existed beautifully but simply in the Governor's + verandah, and when he came out they sang at him. When you have lost + seventy thousand pounds' worth of pearls, your pay, your ship, and all + your clothes, and have lived in bondage for five months beyond the + faintest pretences of civilisation, you know what true independence means, + for you become the happiest of created things—natural man. + </p> + <p> + The Governor told the crew that they were evil, and they asked for food. + When he saw how they ate, and when he remembered that none of the pearl + patrol-boats were expected for two months, he sighed. But the crew of the + Haliotis lay down in the verandah, and said that they were pensioners of + the Governor's bounty. A grey-bearded man, fat and bald-headed, his one + garment a green-and-yellow loin-cloth, saw the Haliotis in the harbour, + and bellowed for joy. The men crowded to the verandah-rail, kicking aside + the long cane chairs. They pointed, gesticulated, and argued freely, + without shame. The militia regiment sat down in the Governor's garden. The + Governor retired to his hammock—it was as easy to be killed lying as + standing—and his women squeaked from the shuttered rooms. + </p> + <p> + “She sold?” said the grey-bearded man, pointing to the Haliotis. He was + Mr. Wardrop. + </p> + <p> + “No good,” said the Governor, shaking his head. “No one come buy.” + </p> + <p> + “He's taken my lamps, though,” said the skipper. He wore one leg of a pair + of trousers, and his eye wandered along the verandah. The Governor + quailed. There were cuddy camp-stools and the skipper's writing-table in + plain sight. + </p> + <p> + “They've cleaned her out, o' course,” said Mr. Wardrop. “They would. We'll + go aboard and take an inventory. See!” He waved his hands over the + harbour. “We—live—there—now. Sorry?” + </p> + <p> + The Governor smiled a smile of relief. + </p> + <p> + “He's glad of that,” said one of the crew, reflectively. “I shouldn't + wonder.” + </p> + <p> + They flocked down to the harbour-front, the militia regiment clattering + behind, and embarked themselves in what they found—it happened to be + the Governor's boat. Then they disappeared over the bulwarks of the + Haliotis, and the Governor prayed that they might find occupation inside. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wardrop's first bound took him to the engine-room; and when the others + were patting the well-remembered decks, they heard him giving God thanks + that things were as he had left them. The wrecked engines stood over his + head untouched; no inexpert hand had meddled with his shores; the steel + wedges of the store-room were rusted home; and, best of all, the hundred + and sixty tons of good Australian coal in the bunkers had not diminished. + </p> + <p> + “I don't understand it,” said Mr. Wardrop. “Any Malay knows the use o' + copper. They ought to have cut away the pipes. And with Chinese junks + coming here, too. It's a special interposition o' Providence.” + </p> + <p> + “You think so,” said the skipper, from above. “There's only been one thief + here, and he's cleaned her out of all my things, anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + Here the skipper spoke less than the truth, for under the planking of his + cabin, only to be reached by a chisel, lay a little money which never drew + any interest—his sheet-anchor to windward. It was all in clean + sovereigns that pass current the world over, and might have amounted to + more than a hundred pounds. + </p> + <p> + “He's left me alone. Let's thank God,” repeated Mr. Wardrop. + </p> + <p> + “He's taken everything else; look!” + </p> + <p> + The Haliotis, except as to her engine-room, had been systematically and + scientifically gutted from one end to the other, and there was strong + evidence that an unclean guard had camped in the skipper's cabin to + regulate that plunder. She lacked glass, plate, crockery, cutlery, + mattresses, cuddy carpets and chairs, all boats, and her copper + ventilators. These things had been removed, with her sails and as much of + the wire rigging as would not imperil the safety of the masts. + </p> + <p> + “He must have sold those,” said the skipper. “The other things are in his + house, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + Every fitting that could be pried or screwed out was gone. Port, + starboard, and masthead lights; teak gratings; sliding sashes of the + deckhouse; the captain's chest of drawers, with charts and chart-table; + photographs, brackets, and looking-glasses; cabin doors; rubber cuddy + mats; hatch-irons; half the funnel-stays; cork fenders; carpenter's + grindstone and tool-chest; holystones, swabs, squeegees; all cabin and + pantry lamps; galley-fittings en bloc; flags and flag-locker; clocks, + chronometers; the forward compass and the ship's bell and belfry, were + among the missing. + </p> + <p> + There were great scarred marks on the deck-planking over which the + cargo-derricks had been hauled. One must have fallen by the way, for the + bulwark-rails were smashed and bent and the side-plates bruised. + </p> + <p> + “It's the Governor,” said the skipper “He's been selling her on the + instalment plan.” + </p> + <p> + “Let's go up with spanners and shovels, and kill 'em all,” shouted the + crew. “Let's drown him, and keep the woman!” + </p> + <p> + “Then we'll be shot by that black-and-tan regiment—our regiment. + What's the trouble ashore? They've camped our regiment on the beach.” + </p> + <p> + “We're cut off; that's all. Go and see what they want,” said Mr. Wardrop. + “You've the trousers.” + </p> + <p> + In his simple way the Governor was a strategist. He did not desire that + the crew of the Haliotis should come ashore again, either singly or in + detachments, and he proposed to turn their steamer into a convict-hulk. + They would wait—he explained this from the quay to the skipper in + the barge—and they would continue to wait till the man-of-war came + along, exactly where they were. If one of them set foot ashore, the entire + regiment would open fire, and he would not scruple to use the two cannon + of the town. Meantime food would be sent daily in a boat under an armed + escort. The skipper, bare to the waist, and rowing, could only grind his + teeth; and the Governor improved the occasion, and revenged himself for + the bitter words in the cables, by saying what he thought of the morals + and manners of the crew. The barge returned to the Haliotis in silence, + and the skipper climbed aboard, white on the cheek-bones and blue about + the nostrils. + </p> + <p> + “I knew it,” said Mr. Wardrop; “and they won't give us good food, either. + We shall have bananas morning, noon, and night, an' a man can't work on + fruit. We know that.” + </p> + <p> + Then the skipper cursed Mr. Wardrop for importing frivolous side-issues + into the conversation; and the crew cursed one another, and the Haliotis, + the voyage, and all that they knew or could bring to mind. They sat down + in silence on the empty decks, and their eyes burned in their heads. The + green harbour water chuckled at them overside. They looked at the + palm-fringed hills inland, at the white houses above the harbour road, at + the single tier of native craft by the quay, at the stolid soldiery + sitting round the two cannon, and, last of all, at the blue bar of the + horizon. Mr. Wardrop was buried in thought, and scratched imaginary lines + with his untrimmed finger-nails on the planking. + </p> + <p> + “I make no promise,” he said, at last, “for I can't say what may or may + not have happened to them. But here's the ship, and here's us.” + </p> + <p> + There was a little scornful laughter at this, and Mr. Wardrop knitted his + brows. He recalled that in the days when he wore trousers he had been + Chief Engineer of the Haliotis. + </p> + <p> + “Harland, Mackesy, Noble, Hay, Naughton, Fink, O'Hara, Trumbull.” + </p> + <p> + “Here, sir!” The instinct of obedience waked to answer the roll-call of + the engine-room. + </p> + <p> + “Below!” + </p> + <p> + They rose and went. + </p> + <p> + “Captain, I'll trouble you for the rest of the men as I want them. We'll + get my stores out, and clear away the shores we don't need, and then we'll + patch her up. My men will remember that they're in the Haliotis,—under + me.” + </p> + <p> + He went into the engine-room, and the others stared. They were used to the + accidents of the sea, but this was beyond their experience. None who had + seen the engine-room believed that anything short of new engines from end + to end could stir the Haliotis from her moorings. + </p> + <p> + The engine-room stores were unearthed, and Mr. Wardrop's face, red with + the filth of the bilges and the exertion of travelling on his stomach, lit + with joy. The spare gear of the Haliotis had been unusually complete, and + two-and-twenty men, armed with screw-jacks, differential blocks, tackle, + vices, and a forge or so, can look Kismet between the eyes without + winking. The crew were ordered to replace the holding-down and + shaft-bearing bolts, and return the collars of the thrust-block. When they + had finished, Mr. Wardrop delivered a lecture on repairing compound + engines without the aid of the shops, and the men sat about on the cold + machinery. The cross-head jammed in the guides leered at them drunkenly, + but offered no help. They ran their fingers hopelessly into the cracks of + the starboard supporting-column, and picked at the ends of the ropes round + the shores, while Mr. Wardrop's voice rose and fell echoing, till the + quick tropic night closed down over the engine-room skylight. + </p> + <p> + Next morning the work of reconstruction began. It has been explained that + the foot of the connecting-rod was forced against the foot of the + starboard supporting-column, which it had cracked through and driven + outward towards the ship's skin. To all appearance the job was more than + hopeless, for rod and column seemed to have been welded into one. But + herein Providence smiled on them for one moment to hearten them through + the weary weeks ahead. The second engineer—more reckless than + resourceful—struck at random with a cold chisel into the cast-iron + of the column, and a greasy, grey flake of metal flew from under the + imprisoned foot of the connecting-rod, while the rod itself fell away + slowly, and brought up with a thunderous clang somewhere in the dark of + the crank-pit. The guides-plates above were still jammed fast in the + guides, but the first blow had been struck. They spent the rest of the day + grooming the donkey-engine, which stood immediately forward of the + engine-room hatch. Its tarpaulin, of course, had been stolen, and eight + warm months had not improved the working parts. Further, the last dying + hiccup of the Haliotis seemed—or it might have been the Malay from + the boat-house—to have lifted the thing bodily on its bolts, and set + it down inaccurately as regarded its steam connections. + </p> + <p> + “If we only had one single cargo-derrick!” Mr. Wardrop sighed. “We can + take the cylinder-cover off by hand, if we sweat; but to get the rod out + o' the piston's not possible unless we use steam. Well, there'll be steam + the morn, if there's nothing else. She'll fizzle!” + </p> + <p> + Next morning men from the shore saw the Haliotis through a cloud, for it + was as though the deck smoked. Her crew were chasing steam through the + shaken and leaky pipes to its work in the forward donkey-engine; and where + oakum failed to plug a crack, they stripped off their loin-cloths for + lapping, and swore, half-boiled and mother-naked. The donkey-engine worked—at + a price—the price of constant attention and furious stoking—worked + long enough to allow a wire-rope (it was made up of a funnel and a + foremast-stay) to be led into the engine-room and made fast on the + cylinder-cover of the forward engine. That rose easily enough, and was + hauled through the skylight and on to the deck, many hands assisting the + doubtful steam. Then came the tug of war, for it was necessary to get to + the piston and the jammed piston-rod. They removed two of the piston + junk-ring studs, screwed in two strong iron eye-bolts by way of handles, + doubled the wire-rope, and set half a dozen men to smite with an + extemporised battering-ram at the end of the piston-rod, where it peered + through the piston, while the donkey-engine hauled upwards on the piston + itself. After four hours of this furious work, the piston-rod suddenly + slipped, and the piston rose with a jerk, knocking one or two men over + into the engine-room. But when Mr. Wardrop declared that the piston had + not split, they cheered, and thought nothing of their wounds; and the + donkey-engine was hastily stopped; its boiler was nothing to tamper with. + </p> + <p> + And day by day their supplies reached them by boat. The skipper humbled + himself once more before the Governor, and as a concession had leave to + get drinking-water from the Malay boat-builder on the quay. It was not + good drinking-water, but the Malay was anxious to supply anything in his + power, if he were paid for it. + </p> + <p> + Now when the jaws of the forward engine stood, as it were, stripped and + empty, they began to wedge up the shores of the cylinder itself. That work + alone filled the better part of three days—warm and sticky days, + when the hands slipped and sweat ran into the eyes. When the last wedge + was hammered home there was no longer an ounce of weight on the + supporting-columns; and Mr. Wardrop rummaged the ship for boiler-plate + three-quarters of an inch thick, where he could find it. There was not + much available, but what there was was more than beaten gold to him. In + one desperate forenoon the entire crew, naked and lean, haled back, more + or less into place, the starboard supporting-column, which, as you + remember, was cracked clean through. Mr. Wardrop found them asleep where + they had finished the work, and gave them a day's rest, smiling upon them + as a father while he drew chalk-marks about the cracks. They woke to new + and more trying labour; for over each one of those cracks a plate of + three-quarter-inch boiler-iron was to be worked hot, the rivet-holes being + drilled by hand. All that time they were fed on fruits, chiefly bananas, + with some sago. + </p> + <p> + Those were the days when men swooned over the ratchet-drill and the + hand-forge, and where they fell they had leave to lie unless their bodies + were in the way of their fellows' feet. And so, patch upon patch, and a + patch over all, the starboard supporting-column was clouted; but when they + thought all was secure, Mr. Wardrop decreed that the noble patchwork would + never support working engines; at the best, it could only hold the + guide-bars approximately true, he deadweight of the cylinders must be + borne by vertical struts; and, therefore, a gang would repair to the bows, + and take out, with files, the big bow-anchor davits, each of which was + some three inches in diameter. They threw hot coals at Wardrop, and + threatened to kill him, those who did not weep (they were ready to weep on + the least provocation); but he hit them with iron bars heated at the end, + and they limped forward, and the davits came with them when they returned. + They slept sixteen hours on the strength of it, and in three days two + struts were in place, bolted from the foot of the starboard + supporting-column to the under side of the cylinder. There remained now + the port, or condenser-column, which, though not so badly cracked as its + fellow, had also been strengthened in four places with boiler-plate + patches, but needed struts. They took away the main stanchions of the + bridge for that work, and, crazy with toil, did not see till all was in + place that the rounded bars of iron must be flattened from top to bottom + to allow the air-pump levers to clear them. It was Wardrop's oversight, + and he wept bitterly before the men as he gave the order to unbolt the + struts and flatten them with hammer and the flame. Now the broken engine + was underpinned firmly, and they took away the wooden shores from under + the cylinders, and gave them to the robbed bridge, thanking God for even + half a day's work on gentle, kindly wood instead of the iron that had + entered into their souls. Eight months in the back-country among the + leeches, at a temperature of 84 degrees moist, is very bad for the nerves. + </p> + <p> + They had kept the hardest work to the last, as boys save Latin prose, and, + worn though they were, Mr. Wardrop did not dare to give them rest. The + piston-rod and connecting-rod were to be straightened, and this was a job + for a regular dockyard with every appliance. They fell to it, cheered by a + little chalk showing of work done and time consumed which Mr. Wardrop + wrote up on the engine-room bulkhead. Fifteen days had gone—fifteen + days of killing labour—and there was hope before them. + </p> + <p> + It is curious that no man knows how the rods were straightened. The crew + of the Haliotis remember that week very dimly, as a fever patient + remembers the delirium of a long night. There were fires everywhere, they + say; the whole ship was one consuming furnace, and the hammers were never + still. Now, there could not have been more than one fire at the most, for + Mr. Wardrop distinctly recalls that no straightening was done except under + his own eye. They remember, too, that for many years voices gave orders + which they obeyed with their bodies, but their minds were abroad on all + the seas. It seems to them that they stood through days and nights slowly + sliding a bar backwards and forwards through a white glow that was part of + the ship. They remember an intolerable noise in their burning heads from + the walls of the stoke-hole, and they remember being savagely beaten by + men whose eyes seemed asleep. When their shift was over they would draw + straight lines in the air, anxiously and repeatedly, and would question + one another in their sleep, crying, “Is she straight?” + </p> + <p> + At last—they do not remember whether this was by day or by night—Mr. + Wardrop began to dance clumsily, and wept the while; and they too danced + and wept, and went to sleep twitching all over; and when they woke, men + said that the rods were straightened, and no one did any work for two + days, but lay on the decks and ate fruit. Mr. Wardrop would go below from + time to time, and pat the two rods where they lay, and they heard him + singing hymns. + </p> + <p> + Then his trouble of mind went from him, and at the end of the third day's + idleness he made a drawing in chalk upon the deck, with letters of the + alphabet at the angles. He pointed out that, though the piston-rod was + more or less straight, the piston-rod cross-head—the thing that had + been jammed sideways in the guides—had been badly strained, and had + cracked the lower end of the piston-rod. He was going to forge and shrink + a wrought-iron collar on the neck of the piston-rod where it joined the + cross-head, and from the collar he would bolt a Y-shaped piece of iron + whose lower arms should be bolted into the cross-head. If anything more + were needed, they could use up the last of the boiler-plate. + </p> + <p> + So the forges were lit again, and men burned their bodies, but hardly felt + the pain. The finished connection was not beautiful, but it seemed strong + enough—at least, as strong as the rest of the machinery; and with + that job their labours came to an end. All that remained was to connect up + the engines, and to get food and water. The skipper and four men dealt + with the Malay boat-builder by night chiefly; it was no time to haggle + over the price of sago and dried fish. The others stayed aboard and + replaced piston, piston-rod, cylinder-cover, cross-head, and bolts, with + the aid of the faithful donkey-engine. The cylinder-cover was hardly + steam-proof, and the eye of science might have seen in the connecting-rod + a flexure something like that of a Christmas-tree candle which has melted + and been straightened by hand over a stove, but, as Mr. Wardrop said, “She + didn't hit anything.” + </p> + <p> + As soon as the last bolt was in place, men tumbled over one another in + their anxiety to get to the hand starting-gear, the wheel and worm, by + which some engines can be moved when there is no steam aboard. They nearly + wrenched off the wheel, but it was evident to the blindest eye that the + engines stirred. They did not revolve in their orbits with any enthusiasm, + as good machines should; indeed, they groaned not a little; but they moved + over and came to rest in a way which proved that they still recognised + man's hand. Then Mr. Wardrop sent his slaves into the darker bowels of the + engine-room and the stoke-hole, and followed them with a flare-lamp. The + boilers were sound, but would take no harm from a little scaling and + cleaning. Mr. Wardrop would not have any one over-zealous, for he feared + what the next stroke of the tool might show. “The less we know about her + now,” said he, “the better for us all, I'm thinkin'. Ye'll understand me + when I say that this is in no sense regular engineerin'.” + </p> + <p> + As his raiment, when he spoke, was his grey beard and uncut hair, they + believed him. They did not ask too much of what they met, but polished and + tallowed and scraped it to a false brilliancy. + </p> + <p> + “A lick of paint would make me easier in my mind,” said Mr. Wardrop, + plaintively. “I know half the condenser-tubes are started; and the + propeller-shaftin''s God knows how far out of the true, and we'll need a + new air-pump, an' the main-steam leaks like a sieve, and there's worse + each way I look; but—paint's like clothes to a man, 'an ours is near + all gone.” + </p> + <p> + The skipper unearthed some stale ropy paint of the loathsome green that + they used for the galleys of sailing-ships, and Mr. Wardrop spread it + abroad lavishly to give the engines self-respect. + </p> + <p> + His own was returning day by day, for he wore his loin-cloth continuously; + but the crew, having worked under orders, did not feel as he did. The + completed work satisfied Mr. Wardrop. He would at the last have made shift + to run to Singapore, and gone home without vengeance taken to show his + engines to his brethren in the craft; but the others and the captain + forbade him. They had not yet recovered their self-respect. + </p> + <p> + “It would be safer to make what ye might call a trial trip, but beggars + mustn't be choosers; an if the engines will go over to the hand-gear, the + probability—I'm only saying it's a probability—the chance is + that they'll hold up when we put steam on her.” + </p> + <p> + “How long will you take to get steam?” said the skipper. + </p> + <p> + “God knows! Four hours—a day—half a week. If I can raise sixty + pound I'll not complain.” + </p> + <p> + “Be sure of her first; we can't afford to go out half a mile, and break + down.” + </p> + <p> + “My soul and body, man, we're one continuous breakdown, fore an' aft! We + might fetch Singapore, though.” + </p> + <p> + “We'll break down at Pygang-Watai, where we can do good,” was the answer, + in a voice that did not allow argument. “She's my boat, and—I've had + eight months to think in.” + </p> + <p> + No man saw the Haliotis depart, though many heard her. She left at two in + the morning, having cut her moorings, and it was none of her crew's + pleasure that the engines should strike up a thundering half-seas-over + chanty that echoed among the hills. Mr. Wardrop wiped away a tear as he + listened to the new song. + </p> + <p> + “She's gibberin'—she's just gibberin',” he whimpered. “Yon's the + voice of a maniac.” + </p> + <p> + And if engines have any soul, as their masters believe, he was quite + right. There were outcries and clamours, sobs and bursts of chattering + laughter, silences where the trained ear yearned for the clear note, and + torturing reduplications where there should have been one deep voice. Down + the screw-shaft ran murmurs and warnings, while a heart-diseased flutter + without told that the propeller needed re-keying. + </p> + <p> + “How does she make it?” said the skipper. + </p> + <p> + “She moves, but—but she's breakin' my heart. The sooner we're at + Pygang-Watai, the better. She's mad, and we're waking the town.” + </p> + <p> + “Is she at all near safe?” + </p> + <p> + “What do I care how safe she is? She's mad. Hear that, now! To be sure, + nothing's hittin' anything, and the bearin's are fairly cool, but—can + ye not hear?” + </p> + <p> + “If she goes,” said the skipper, “I don't care a curse. And she's my boat, + too.” + </p> + <p> + She went, trailing a fathom of weed behind her. From a slow two knots an + hour she crawled up to a triumphant four. Anything beyond that made the + struts quiver dangerously, and filled the engine-room with steam. Morning + showed her out of sight of land, and there was a visible ripple under her + bows; but she complained bitterly in her bowels, and, as though the noise + had called it, there shot along across the purple sea a swift, dark proa, + hawk-like and curious, which presently ranged alongside and wished to know + if the Haliotis were helpless. Ships, even the steamers of the white men, + had been known to break down in those waters, and the honest Malay and + Javanese traders would sometimes aid them in their own peculiar way. But + this ship was not full of lady passengers and well-dressed officers. Men, + white, naked and savage, swarmed down her sides—some with red-hot + iron bars, and others with large hammers—threw themselves upon those + innocent inquiring strangers, and, before any man could say what had + happened, were in full possession of the proa, while the lawful owners + bobbed in the water overside. Half an hour later the proa's cargo of sago + and trepang, as well as a doubtful-minded compass, was in the Haliotis. + The two huge triangular mat sails, with their seventy-foot yards and + booms, had followed the cargo, and were being fitted to the stripped masts + of the steamer. + </p> + <p> + They rose, they swelled, they filled, and the empty steamer visibly laid + over as the wind took them. They gave her nearly three knots an hour, and + what better could men ask? But if she had been forlorn before, this new + purchase made her horrible to see. Imagine a respectable charwoman in the + tights of a ballet-dancer rolling drunk along the streets, and you will + come to some faint notion of the appearance of that nine-hundred-ton, + well-decked, once schooner-rigged cargo-boat as she staggered under her + new help, shouting and raving across the deep. With steam and sail that + marvellous voyage continued; and the bright-eyed crew looked over the + rail, desolate, unkempt, unshorn, shamelessly clothed beyond the + decencies. + </p> + <p> + At the end of the third week she sighted the island of Pygang-Watai, whose + harbour is the turning-point of a pearl sea-patrol. Here the gun-boats + stay for a week ere they retrace their line. There is no village at + Pygang-Watai; only a stream of water, some palms, and a harbour safe to + rest in till the first violence of the southeast monsoon has blown itself + out. + </p> + <p> + They opened up the low coral beach, with its mound of whitewashed coal + ready for supply, the deserted huts for the sailors, and the flagless + flagstaff. + </p> + <p> + Next day there was no Haliotis—only a little proa rocking in the + warm rain at the mouth of the harbour, whose crew watched with hungry eyes + the smoke of a gunboat on the horizon. + </p> + <p> + Months afterwards there were a few lines in an English newspaper to the + effect that some gunboat of some foreign Power had broken her back at the + mouth of some far-away harbour by running at full speed into a sunken + wreck. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART1" id="link2H_PART1"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART I + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + I have done one braver thing + Than all the worthies did; + And yet a braver thence doth spring, + Which is to keep that hid. + + The Undertaking. +</pre> + <p> + “Is it officially declared yet?” + </p> + <p> + “They've gone as far as to admit 'extreme local scarcity,' and they've + started relief-works in one or two districts, the paper says.” + </p> + <p> + “That means it will be declared as soon as they can make sure of the men + and the rolling-stock. Shouldn't wonder if it were as bad as the '78 + Famine.” + </p> + <p> + “'Can't be,” said Scott, turning a little in the long cane chair. + </p> + <p> + “We've had fifteen-anna crops in the north, and Bombay and Bengal report + more than they know what to do with. They'll be able to check it before it + gets out of hand. It will only be local.” + </p> + <p> + Martyn picked the “Pioneer” from the table, read through the telegrams + once more, and put up his feet on the chair-rests. It was a hot, dark, + breathless evening, heavy with the smell of the newly watered Mall. The + flowers in the Club gardens were dead and black on their stalks, the + little lotus-pond was a circle of caked mud, and the tamarisk-trees were + white with the dust of weeks. Most of the men were at the band-stand in + the public gardens—from the Club verandah you could hear the native + Police band hammering stale waltzes—or on the polo-ground, or in the + high-walled fives-court, hotter than a Dutch oven. Half a dozen grooms, + squatted at the heads of their ponies, waited their masters' return. From + time to time a man would ride at a foot-pace into the Club compound, and + listlessly loaf over to the whitewashed barracks beside the main building. + These were supposed to be chambers. Men lived in them, meeting the same + white faces night after night at dinner, and drawing out their office-work + till the latest possible hour, that they might escape that doleful + company. + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do?” said Martyn, with a yawn. “Let's have a swim + before dinner.” + </p> + <p> + “Water's hot. I was at the bath to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Play you game o' billiards—fifty up.” + </p> + <p> + “It's a hundred and five in the hall now. Sit still and don't be so + abominably energetic.” + </p> + <p> + A grunting camel swung up to the porch, his badged and belted rider + fumbling a leather pouch. + </p> + <p> + “Kubber-kargaz-ki-yektraaa,” the man whined, handing down the newspaper + extra—a slip printed on one side only, and damp from the press. It + was pinned up on the green-baize board, between notices of ponies for sale + and fox-terriers missing. + </p> + <p> + Martyn rose lazily, read it, and whistled. “It's declared!” he cried. + “One, two, three—eight districts go under the operations of the + Famine Code ek dum. They've put Jimmy Hawkins in charge.” + </p> + <p> + “Good business!” said Scott, with the first sign of interest he had shown. + “When in doubt hire a Punjabi. I worked under Jimmy when I first came out + and he belonged to the Punjab. He has more bundobust than most men.” + </p> + <p> + “Jimmy's a Jubilee Knight now,” said Martyn. “He's a good chap, even + though he is a thrice-born civilian and went to the Benighted Presidency. + What unholy names these Madras districts rejoice in—all ungas or + rungas or pillays or polliums!” + </p> + <p> + A dog-cart drove up in the dusk, and a man entered, mopping his head. He + was editor of the one daily paper at the capital of a Province of + twenty-five million natives and a few hundred white men: as his staff was + limited to himself and one assistant, his office-hours ran variously from + ten to twenty a day. + </p> + <p> + “Hi, Raines; you're supposed to know everything,” said Martyn, stopping + him. “How's this Madras 'scarcity' going to turn out?” + </p> + <p> + “No one knows as yet. There's a message as long as your arm coming in on + the telephone. I've left my cub to fill it out. Madras has owned she can't + manage it alone, and Jimmy seems to have a free hand in getting all the + men he needs. Arbuthnot's warned to hold himself in readiness.” + </p> + <p> + “'Badger' Arbuthnot?” + </p> + <p> + “The Peshawur chap. Yes: and the Pi wires that Ellis and Clay have been + moved from the Northwest already, and they've taken half a dozen Bombay + men, too. It's pukka famine, by the looks of it.” + </p> + <p> + “They're nearer the scene of action than we are; but if it comes to + indenting on the Punjab this early, there's more in this than meets the + eye,” said Martyn. + </p> + <p> + “Here to-day and gone to-morrow. 'Didn't come to stay for ever,” said + Scott, dropping one of Marryat's novels, and rising to his feet. “Martyn, + your sister's waiting for you.” + </p> + <p> + A rough grey horse was backing and shifting at the edge of the verandah, + where the light of a kerosene lamp fell on a brown-calico habit and a + white face under a grey-felt hat. + </p> + <p> + “Right, O!” said Martyn. “I'm ready. Better come and dine with us, if + you've nothing to do, Scott. William, is there any dinner in the house?” + </p> + <p> + “I'll go home and see,” was the rider's answer. “You can drive him over—at + eight, remember.” + </p> + <p> + Scott moved leisurely to his room, and changed into the evening-dress of + the season and the country: spotless white linen from head to foot, with a + broad silk cummerbund. Dinner at the Martyns' was a decided improvement on + the goat-mutton, twiney-tough fowl, and tinned entrees of the Club. But it + was a great pity that Martyn could not afford to send his sister to the + hills for the hot weather. As an Acting District Superintendent of Police, + Martyn drew the magnificent pay of six hundred depreciated silver rupees a + month, and his little four-roomed bungalow said just as much. There were + the usual blue-and-white-striped jail-made rugs on the uneven floor; the + usual glass-studded Amritsar phulkaris draped on nails driven into the + flaking whitewash of the walls; the usual half-dozen chairs that did not + match, picked up at sales of dead men's effects; and the usual streaks of + black grease where the leather punka-thong ran through the wall. It was as + though everything had been unpacked the night before to be repacked next + morning. Not a door in the house was true on its hinges. The little + windows, fifteen feet up, were darkened with wasp-nests, and lizards + hunted flies between the beams of the wood-ceiled roof. But all this was + part of Scott's life. Thus did people live who had such an income; and in + a land where each man's pay, age, and position are printed in a book, that + all may read, it is hardly worth while to play at pretence in word or + deed. Scott counted eight years' service in the Irrigation Department, and + drew eight hundred rupees a month, on the understanding that if he served + the State faithfully for another twenty-two years he could retire on a + pension of some four hundred rupees a month. His working-life, which had + been spent chiefly under canvas or in temporary shelters where a man could + sleep, eat, and write letters, was bound up with the opening and guarding + of irrigation canals, the handling of two or three thousand workmen of all + castes and creeds, and the payment of vast sums of coined silver. + </p> + <p> + He had finished that spring, not without credit, the last section of the + great Mosuhl Canal, and—much against his will, for he hated + office-work—had been sent in to serve during the hot weather on the + accounts and supply side of the Department, with sole charge of the + sweltering sub-office at the capital of the Province. Martyn knew this; + William, his sister, knew it; and everybody knew it. Scott knew, too, as + well as the rest of the world, that Miss Martyn had come out to India four + years ago to keep house for her brother, who, as every one knew, had + borrowed the money to pay for her passage, and that she ought, as all the + world said, to have married at once. In stead of this, she had refused + some half a dozen subalterns, a Civilian twenty years her senior, one + Major, and a man in the Indian Medical Department. This, too, was common + property. She had “stayed down three hot weathers,” as the saying is, + because her brother was in debt and could not afford the expense of her + keep at even a cheap hill-station. Therefore her face was white as bone, + and in the centre of her forehead was a big silvery scar about the size of + a shilling—the mark of a Delhi sore, which is the same as a “Bagdad + date.” This comes from drinking bad water, and slowly eats into the flesh + till it is ripe enough to be burned out. + </p> + <p> + None the less William had enjoyed herself hugely in her four years. Twice + she had been nearly drowned while fording a river; once she had been run + away with on a camel; had witnessed a midnight attack of thieves on her + brother's camp; had seen justice administered, with long sticks, in the + open under trees; could speak Urdu and even rough Punjabi with a fluency + that was envied by her seniors; had entirely fallen out of the habit of + writing to her aunts in England, or cutting the pages of the English + magazines; had been through a very bad cholera year, seeing sights unfit + to be told; and had wound up her experiences by six weeks of typhoid + fever, during which her head had been shaved and hoped to keep her + twenty-third birthday that September. It is conceivable that the aunts + would not have approved of a girl who never set foot on the ground if a + horse were within hail; who rode to dances with a shawl thrown over her + skirt; who wore her hair cropped and curling all over her head; who + answered indifferently to the name of William or Bill; whose speech was + heavy with the flowers of the vernacular; who could act in amateur + theatricals, play on the banjo, rule eight servants and two horses, their + accounts and their diseases, and look men slowly and deliberately between + the eyes—even after they had proposed to her and been rejected. + </p> + <p> + “I like men who do things,” she had confided to a man in the Educational + Department, who was teaching the sons of cloth-merchants and dyers the + beauty of Wordsworth's “Excursion” in annotated cram-books; and when he + grew poetical, William explained that she “didn't understand poetry very + much; it made her head ache,” and another broken heart took refuge at the + Club. But it was all William's fault. She delighted in hearing men talk of + their own work, and that is the most fatal way of bringing a man to your + feet. + </p> + <p> + Scott had known her for some three years, meeting her, as a rule, under + canvass, when his camp and her brother's joined for a day on the edge of + the Indian Desert. He had danced with her several times at the big + Christmas gatherings, when as many as five hundred white people came in to + the station; and had always a great respect for her housekeeping and her + dinners. + </p> + <p> + She looked more like a boy than ever when, the meal ended, she sat, + rolling cigarettes, her low forehead puckered beneath the dark curls as + she twiddled the papers and stuck out her rounded chin when the tobacco + stayed in place, or, with a gesture as true as a school-boy's throwing a + stone, tossed the finished article across the room to Martyn, who caught + it with one hand, and continued his talk with Scott. It was all “shop,”—canals + and the policing of canals; the sins of villagers who stole more water + than they had paid for, and the grosser sin of native constables who + connived at the thefts; of the transplanting bodily of villages to newly + irrigated ground, and of the coming fight with the desert in the south + when the Provincial funds should warrant the opening of the long-surveyed + Luni Protective Canal System. And Scott spoke openly of his great desire + to be put on one particular section of the work where he knew the land and + the people; and Martyn sighed for a billet in the Himalayan foot-hills, + and said his mind of his superiors, and William rolled cigarettes and said + nothing, but smiled gravely on her brother because he was happy. + </p> + <p> + At ten Scott's horse came to the door, and the evening was ended. The + lights of the two low bungalows in which the daily paper was printed + showed bright across the road. It was too early to try to find sleep, and + Scott drifted over to the editor. Raines, stripped to the waist like a + sailor at a gun, lay half asleep in a long chair, waiting for night + telegrams. He had a theory that if a man did not stay by his work all day + and most of the night he laid himself open to fever: so he ate and slept + among his files. + </p> + <p> + “Can you do it?” he said drowsily. “I didn't mean to bring you over.” + </p> + <p> + “About what? I've been dining at the Martyns'.” + </p> + <p> + “The Madras famine, of course. Martyn's warned, too. They're taking men + where they can find 'em. I sent a note to you at the Club just now, asking + if you could do us a letter once a week from the south—between two + and three columns, say. Nothing sensational, of course, but just plain + facts about who is doing what, and so forth. Our regular rates—ten + rupees a column.” + </p> + <p> + “'Sorry, but it's out of my line,” Scott answered, staring absently at the + map of India on the wall. “It's rough on Martyn—very. 'Wonder what + he'll do with his sister? 'Wonder what the deuce they'll do with me? I've + no famine experience. This is the first I've heard of it. Am I ordered?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes. Here's the wire. They'll put you on to relief-works,” Raines + said, “with a horde of Madrassis dying like flies; one native apothecary + and half a pint of cholera-mixture among the ten thousand of you. It comes + of your being idle for the moment. Every man who isn't doing two men's + work seems to have been called upon. Hawkins evidently believes in + Punjabis. It's going to be quite as bad as anything they have had in the + last ten years.” + </p> + <p> + “It's all in the day's work, worse luck. I suppose I shall get my orders + officially some time to-morrow. I'm awfully glad I happened to drop in. + Better go and pack my kit now. Who relieves me here—do you know?” + </p> + <p> + Raines turned over a sheaf of telegrams. “McEuan,” said he, “from Murree.” + </p> + <p> + Scott chuckled. “He thought he was going to be cool all summer. He'll be + very sick about this. Well, no good talking. 'Night.” + </p> + <p> + Two hours later, Scott, with a clear conscience, laid himself down to rest + on a string cot in a bare room. Two worn bullock trunks, a leather + water-bottle, a tin ice-box, and his pet saddle sewed up in sacking were + piled at the door, and the Club secretary's receipt for last month's bill + was under his pillow. His orders came next morning, and with them an + unofficial telegram from Sir James Hawkins; who was not in the habit of + forgetting good men when he had once met them, bidding him report himself + with all speed at some unpronounceable place fifteen hundred miles to the + south, for the famine was sore in the land, and white men were needed. + </p> + <p> + A pink and fattish youth arrived in the red-hot noonday, whimpering a + little at fate and famines, which never allowed any one three months' + peace. He was Scott's successor—another cog in the machinery, moved + forward behind his fellow whose services, as the official announcement + ran, “were placed at the disposal of the Madras Government for famine duty + until further orders.” Scott handed over the funds in his charge, showed + him the coolest corner in the office, warned him against excess of zeal, + and, as twilight fell, departed from the Club in a hired carriage, with + his faithful body-servant, Faiz Ullah, and a mound of disordered baggage + atop, to catch the southern mail at the loopholed and bastioned + railway-station. The heat from the thick brick walls struck him across the + face as if it had been a hot towel; and he reflected that there were at + least five nights and four days of this travel before him. Faiz Ullah, + used to the chances of service, plunged into the crowd on the stone + platform, while Scott, a black cheroot between his teeth, waited till his + compartment should be set away. A dozen native policemen, with their + rifles and bundles, shouldered into the press of Punjabi farmers, Sikh + craftsmen, and greasy-locked Afreedee pedlars, escorting with all pomp + Martyn's uniform-case, water-bottles, ice-box, and bedding-roll. They saw + Faiz Ullah's lifted hand, and steered for it. + </p> + <p> + “My Sahib and your Sahib,” said Faiz Ullah to Martyn's man, “will travel + together. Thou and I, O brother, will thus secure the servants' places + close by; and because of our masters' authority none will dare to disturb + us.” + </p> + <p> + When Faiz Ullah reported all things ready, Scott settled down at full + length, coatless and bootless, on the broad leather-covered bunk. The heat + under the iron-arched roof of the station might have been anything over a + hundred degrees. At the last moment Martyn entered, dripping. + </p> + <p> + “Don't swear,” said Scott, lazily; “it's too late to change your carriage; + and we'll divide the ice.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing here?” said the police-man. + </p> + <p> + “I'm lent to the Madras Government, same as you. By Jove, it's a bender of + a night! Are you taking any of your men down?” + </p> + <p> + “A dozen. I suppose I shall have to superintend relief distributions. + 'Didn't know you were under orders too.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't till after I left you last night. Raines had the news first. My + orders came this morning. McEuan relieved me at four, and I got off at + once. 'Shouldn't wonder if it wouldn't be a good thing—this famine—if + we come through it alive.” + </p> + <p> + “Jimmy ought to put you and me to work together,” said Martyn; and then, + after a pause: “My sister's here.” + </p> + <p> + “Good business,” said Scott, heartily. “Going to get off at Umballa, I + suppose, and go up to Simla. Who'll she stay with there?” + </p> + <p> + “No-o; that's just the trouble of it. She's going down with me.” + </p> + <p> + Scott sat bolt upright under the oil-lamps as the train jolted past + Tarn-Taran. “What! You don't mean you couldn't afford—” + </p> + <p> + “'Tain't that. I'd have scraped up the money somehow.” + </p> + <p> + “You might have come to me, to begin with,” said Scott, stiffly; “we + aren't altogether strangers.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you needn't be stuffy about it. I might, but—you don't know + my sister. I've been explaining and exhorting and all the rest of it all + day—lost my temper since seven this morning, and haven't got it back + yet—but she wouldn't hear of any compromise. A woman's entitled to + travel with her husband if she wants to; and William says she's on the + same footing. You see, we've been together all our lives, more or less, + since my people died. It isn't as if she were an ordinary sister.” + </p> + <p> + “All the sisters I've ever heard of would have stayed where they were well + off.” + </p> + <p> + She's as clever as a man, confound—Martyn went on. “She broke up the + bungalow over my head while I was talking at her. 'Settled the whole thing + in three hours—servants, horses, and all. I didn't get my orders + till nine.” + </p> + <p> + “Jimmy Hawkins won't be pleased,” said Scott “A famine's no place for a + woman.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Jim—I mean Lady Jim's in camp with him. At any rate, she says + she will look after my sister. William wired down to her on her own + responsibility, asking if she could come, and knocked the ground from + under me by showing me her answer.” + </p> + <p> + Scott laughed aloud. “If she can do that she can take care of herself, and + Mrs. Jim won't let her run into any mischief. There aren't many women, + sisters or wives, who would walk into a famine with their eyes open. It + isn't as if she didn't know what these things mean. She was through the + Jalo cholera last year.” + </p> + <p> + The train stopped at Amritsar, and Scott went back to the ladies' + compartment, immediately behind their carriage. William, with a cloth + riding-cap on her curls, nodded affably. + </p> + <p> + “Come in and have some tea,” she said. “'Best thing in the world for + heat-apoplexy.” + </p> + <p> + “Do I look as if I were going to have heat-apoplexy?” + </p> + <p> + “'Never can tell,” said William, wisely. “It's always best to be ready.” + </p> + <p> + She had arranged her compartment with the knowledge of an old campaigner. + A felt-covered water-bottle hung in the draught of one of the shuttered + windows; a tea-set of Russian china, packed in a wadded basket, stood on + the seat; and a travelling spirit-lamp was clamped against the woodwork + above it. + </p> + <p> + William served them generously, in large cups, hot tea, which saves the + veins of the neck from swelling inopportunely on a hot night. It was + characteristic of the girl that, her plan of action once settled, she + asked for no comments on it. Life among men who had a great deal of work + to do, and very little time to do it in, had taught her the wisdom of + effacing, as well as of fending for, herself. She did not by word or deed + suggest that she would be useful, comforting, or beautiful in their + travels, but continued about her business serenely: put the cups back + without clatter when tea was ended, and made cigarettes for her guests. + </p> + <p> + “This time last night,” said Scott, “we didn't expect—er—this + kind of thing, did we?” + </p> + <p> + “I've learned to expect anything,” said William. “You know, in our + service, we live at the end of the telegraph; but, of course, this ought + to be a good thing for us all, departmentally—if we live.” + </p> + <p> + “It knocks us out of the running in our own Province,” Scott replied, with + equal gravity. “I hoped to be put on the Luni Protective Works this cold + weather, but there's no saying how long the famine may keep us.” + </p> + <p> + “Hardly beyond October, I should think,” said Martyn. “It will be ended, + one way or the other, then.” + </p> + <p> + “And we've nearly a week of this,” said William. “Sha'n't we be dusty when + it's over?” + </p> + <p> + For a night and a day they knew their surroundings, and for a night and a + day, skirting the edge of the great Indian Desert on a narrow-gauge + railway, they remembered how in the days of their apprenticeship they had + come by that road from Bombay. Then the languages in which the names of + the stations were written changed, and they launched south into a foreign + land, where the very smells were new. Many long and heavily laden + grain-trains were in front of them, and they could feel the hand of Jimmy + Hawkins from far off. They waited in extemporised sidings while + processions of empty trucks returned to the north, and were coupled on to + slow, crawling trains, and dropped at midnight, Heaven knew where; but it + was furiously hot, and they walked to and fro among sacks, and dogs + howled. Then they came to an India more strange to them than to the + untravelled Englishman—the flat, red India of palm-tree, + palmyra-palm, and rice—the India of the picture-books, of “Little + Harry and His Bearer”—all dead and dry in the baking heat. They had + left the incessant passenger-traffic of the north and west far and far + behind them. Here the people crawled to the side of the train, holding + their little ones in their arms; and a loaded truck would be left behind, + the men and women clustering round it like ants by spilled honey. Once in + the twilight they saw on a dusty plain a regiment of little brown men, + each bearing a body over his shoulder; and when the train stopped to leave + yet another truck, they perceived that the burdens were not corpses, but + only foodless folk picked up beside dead oxen by a corps of Irregular + troops. Now they met more white men, here one and there two, whose tents + stood close to the line, and who came armed with written authorities and + angry words to cut off a truck. They were too busy to do more than nod at + Scott and Martyn, and stare curiously at William, who could do nothing + except make tea, and watch how her men staved off the rush of wailing, + walking skeletons, putting them down three at a time in heaps, with their + own hands uncoupling the marked trucks, or taking receipts from the + hollow-eyed, weary white men, who spoke another argot than theirs. They + ran out of ice, out of soda-water, and out of tea; for they were six days + and seven nights on the road, and it seemed to them like seven times seven + years. + </p> + <p> + At last, in a dry, hot dawn, in a land of death, lit by long red fires of + railway-sleepers, where they were burning the dead, they came to their + destination, and were met by Jim Hawkins, the Head of the Famine, + unshaven, unwashed, but cheery, and entirely in command of affairs. + </p> + <p> + Martyn, he decreed then and there, was to live on trains till further + orders; was to go back with empty trucks, filling them with starving + people as he found them, and dropping them at a famine-camp on the edge of + the Eight Districts. He would pick up supplies and return, and his + constables would guard the loaded grain-cars, also picking up people, and + would drop them at a camp a hundred miles south. Scott—Hawkins was + very glad to see Scott again—would that same hour take charge of a + convoy of bullock-carts, and would go south, feeding as he went, to yet + another famine-camp, where he would leave his starving—there would + be no lack of starving on the route—and wait for orders by + telegraph. Generally, Scott was in all small things to act as he thought + best. + </p> + <p> + William bit her under lip. There was no one in the wide world like her one + brother, but Martyn's orders gave him no discretion. + </p> + <p> + She came out on the platform, masked with dust from head to foot, a + horse-shoe wrinkle on her forehead, put here by much thinking during the + past week, but as self-possessed as ever. Mrs. Jim—who should have + been Lady Jim but that no one remembered the title—took possession + of her with a little gasp. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm so glad you're here,” she almost sobbed. “You oughtn't to, of + course, but there—there isn't another woman in the place, and we + must help each other, you know; and we've all the wretched people and the + little babies they are selling.” + </p> + <p> + “I've seen some,” said William. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't it ghastly? I've bought twenty; they're in our camp; but won't you + have something to eat first? We've more than ten people can do here; and + I've got a horse for you. Oh, I'm so glad you've come, dear. You're a + Punjabi, too, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Steady, Lizzie,” said Hawkins, over his shoulder. “We'll look after you, + Miss Martyn. 'Sorry I can't ask you to breakfast, Martyn. You'll have to + eat as you go. Leave two of your men to help Scott. These poor devils + can't stand up to load carts. Saunders” (this to the engine-driver, who + was half asleep in the cab), “back down and get those empties away. You've + 'line clear' to Anundrapillay; they'll give you orders north of that. + Scott, load up your carts from that B. P. P. truck, and be off as soon as + you can. The Eurasian in the pink shirt is your interpreter and guide. + You'll find an apothecary of sorts tied to the yoke of the second wagon. + He's been trying to bolt; you'll have to look after him. Lizzie, drive + Miss Martyn to camp, and tell them to send the red horse down here for + me.” + </p> + <p> + Scott, with Faiz Ullah and two policemen, was already busied with the + carts, backing them up to the truck and unbolting the sideboards quietly, + while the others pitched in the bags of millet and wheat. Hawkins watched + him for as long as it took to fill one cart. + </p> + <p> + “That's a good man,” he said. “If all goes well I shall work him hard.” + This was Jim Hawkins's notion of the highest compliment one human being + could pay another. + </p> + <p> + An hour later Scott was under way; the apothecary threatening him with the + penalties of the law for that he, a member of the Subordinate Medical + Department, had been coerced and bound against his will and all laws + governing the liberty of the subject; the pink-shirted Eurasian begging + leave to see his mother, who happened to be dying some three miles away: + “Only verree, verree short leave of absence, and will presently return, + sar—“; the two constables, armed with staves, bringing up the rear; + and Faiz Ullah, a Mohammedan's contempt for all Hindoos and foreigners in + every line of his face, explaining to the drivers that though Scott Sahib + was a man to be feared on all fours, he, Faiz Ullah, was Authority Itself. + </p> + <p> + The procession creaked past Hawkins's camp—three stained tents under + a clump of dead trees, behind them the famine-shed, where a crowd of + hopeless ones tossed their arms around the cooking-kettles. + </p> + <p> + “'Wish to Heaven William had kept out of it,” said Scott to himself, after + a glance. “We'll have cholera, sure as a gun, when the Rains break.” + </p> + <p> + But William seemed to have taken kindly to the operations of the Famine + Code, which, when famine is declared, supersede the workings of the + ordinary law. Scott saw her, the centre of a mob of weeping women, in a + calico riding-habit, and a blue-grey felt hat with a gold puggaree. + </p> + <p> + “I want fifty rupees, please. I forgot to ask Jack before he went away. + Can you lend it me? It's for condensed-milk for the babies,” said she. + </p> + <p> + Scott took the money from his belt, and handed it over without a word. + “For goodness sake, take care of yourself,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I shall be all right. We ought to get the milk in two days. By the + way, the orders are, I was to tell you, that you're to take one of Sir + Jim's horses. There's a grey Cabuli here that I thought would be just your + style, so I've said you'd take him. Was that right?” + </p> + <p> + “That's awfully good of you. We can't either of us talk much about style, + I am afraid.” + </p> + <p> + Scott was in a weather-stained drill shooting-kit, very white at the seams + and a little frayed at the wrists. William regarded him thoughtfully, from + his pith helmet to his greased ankle-boots. “You look very nice, I think. + Are you sure you've everything you'll need—quinine, chlorodyne, and + so on?” + </p> + <p> + “'Think so,” said Scott, patting three or four of his shooting-pockets as + he mounted and rode alongside his convoy. + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye,” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye, and good luck,” said William. “I'm awfully obliged for the + money.” She turned on a spurred heel and disappeared into the tent, while + the carts pushed on past the famine-sheds, past the roaring lines of the + thick, fat fires, down to the baked Gehenna of the South. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART2" id="link2H_PART2"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART II + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + So let us melt and make no noise, + No tear-floods nor sigh-tempests move; + 'Twere profanation of our joys + To tell the Laity our love. + + A Valediction. +</pre> + <p> + It was punishing work, even though he travelled by night and camped by + day; but within the limits of his vision there was no man whom Scott could + call master. He was as free as Jimmy Hawkins—freer, in fact, for the + Government held the Head of the Famine tied neatly to a telegraph-wire, + and if Jimmy had ever regarded telegrams seriously, the death-rate of that + famine would have been much higher than it was. + </p> + <p> + At the end of a few days' crawling Scott learned something of the size of + the India which he served, and it astonished him. His carts, as you know, + were loaded with wheat, millet, and barley, good food-grains needing only + a little grinding. But the people to whom he brought the life-giving + stuffs were rice-eaters. They could hull rice in their mortars, but they + knew nothing of the heavy stone querns of the North, and less of the + material that the white man convoyed so laboriously. They clamoured for + rice—unhusked paddy, such as they were accustomed to—and, when + they found that there was none, broke away weeping from the sides of the + cart. What was the use of these strange hard grains that choked their + throats? They would die. And then and there very many of them kept their + word. Others took their allowance, and bartered enough millet to feed a + man through a week for a few handfuls of rotten rice saved by some less + unfortunate. A few put their share into the rice-mortars, pounded it, and + made a paste with foul water; but they were very few. Scott understood + dimly that many people in the India of the South ate rice, as a rule, but + he had spent his service in a grain Province, had seldom seen rice in the + blade or ear, and least of all would have believed that in time of deadly + need men could die at arm's length of plenty, sooner than touch food they + did not know. In vain the interpreters interpreted; in vain his two + policemen showed in vigorous pantomime what should be done. The starving + crept away to their bark and weeds, grubs, leaves, and clay, and left the + open sacks untouched. But sometimes the women laid their phantoms of + children at Scott's feet, looking back as they staggered away. + </p> + <p> + Faiz Ullah opined it was the will of God that these foreigners should die, + and it remained only to give orders to burn the dead. None the less there + was no reason why the Sahib should lack his comforts, and Faiz Ullah, a + campaigner of experience, had picked up a few lean goats and had added + them to the procession. That they might give milk for the morning meal, he + was feeding them on the good grain that these imbeciles rejected. “Yes,” + said Faiz Ullah; “if the Sahib thought fit, a little milk might be given + to some of the babies”; but, as the Sahib well knew, babies were cheap, + and, for his own part, Faiz Ullah held that there was no Government order + as to babies. Scott spoke forcefully to Faiz Ullah and the two policemen, + and bade them capture goats where they could find them. This they most + joyfully did, for it was a recreation, and many ownerless goats were + driven in. Once fed, the poor brutes were willing enough to follow the + carts, and a few days' good food—food such as human beings died for + lack of—set them in milk again. + </p> + <p> + “But I am no goatherd,” said Faiz Ullah. “It is against my izzat [my + honour].” + </p> + <p> + “When we cross the Bias River again we will talk of izzat,” Scott replied. + “Till that day thou and the policemen shall be sweepers to the camp, if I + give the order.” + </p> + <p> + “Thus, then, it is done,” grunted Faiz Ullah, “if the Sahib will have it + so”; and he showed how a goat should be milked, while Scott stood over + him. + </p> + <p> + “Now we will feed them,” said Scott; “twice a day we will feed them”; and + he bowed his back to the milking, and took a horrible cramp. + </p> + <p> + When you have to keep connection unbroken between a restless mother of + kids and a baby who is at the point of death, you suffer in all your + system. But the babies were fed. Each morning and evening Scott would + solemnly lift them out one by one from their nest of gunny-bags under the + cart-tilts. There were always many who could do no more than breathe, and + the milk was dropped into their toothless mouths drop by drop, with due + pauses when they choked. Each morning, too, the goats were fed; and since + they would straggle without a leader, and since the natives were + hirelings, Scott was forced to give up riding, and pace slowly at the head + of his flocks, accommodating his step to their weaknesses. All this was + sufficiently absurd, and he felt the absurdity keenly; but at least he was + saving life, and when the women saw that their children did not die, they + made shift to eat a little of the strange foods, and crawled after the + carts, blessing the master of the goats. + </p> + <p> + “Give the women something to live for,” said Scott to himself, as he + sneezed in the dust of a hundred little feet, “and they'll hang on + somehow. This beats William's condensed-milk trick all to pieces. I shall + never live it down, though.” + </p> + <p> + He reached his destination very slowly, found that a rice-ship had come in + from Burmah, and that stores of paddy were available; found also an + overworked Englishman in charge of the shed, and, loading the carts, set + back to cover the ground he had already passed. He left some of the + children and half his goats at the famine-shed. For this he was not + thanked by the Englishman, who had already more stray babies than he knew + what to do with. Scott's back was suppled to stooping now, and he went on + with his wayside ministrations in addition to distributing the paddy. More + babies and more goats were added unto him; but now some of the babies wore + rags, and beads round their wrists or necks. “That” said the interpreter, + as though Scott did not know, “signifies that their mothers hope in + eventual contingency to resume them offeecially.” + </p> + <p> + “The sooner, the better,” said Scott; but at the same time he marked, with + the pride of ownership, how this or that little Ramasawmy was putting on + flesh like a bantam. As the paddy-carts were emptied he headed for + Hawkins's camp by the railway, timing his arrival to fit in with the + dinner-hour, for it was long since he had eaten at a cloth. He had no + desire to make any dramatic entry, but an accident of the sunset ordered + it that when he had taken off his helmet to get the evening breeze, the + low light should fall across his forehead, and he could not see what was + before him; while one waiting at the tent door beheld with new eyes a + young man, beautiful as Paris, a god in a halo of golden dust, walking + slowly at the head of his flocks, while at his knee ran small naked + Cupids. But she laughed—William, in a slate-coloured blouse, laughed + consumedly till Scott, putting the best face he could upon the matter, + halted his armies and bade her admire the kindergarten. It was an unseemly + sight, but the proprieties had been left ages ago, with the tea-party at + Amritsar Station, fifteen hundred miles to the north. + </p> + <p> + “They are coming on nicely,” said William. “We've only five-and-twenty + here now. The women are beginning to take them away again.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you in charge of the babies, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—Mrs. Jim and I. We didn't think of goats, though. We've been + trying condensed-milk and water.” + </p> + <p> + “Any losses?” + </p> + <p> + “More than I care to think of;” said William, with a shudder. “And you?” + </p> + <p> + Scott said nothing. There had been many little burials along his route—one + cannot burn a dead baby—many mothers who had wept when they did not + find again the children they had trusted to the care of the Government. + </p> + <p> + Then Hawkins came out carrying a razor, at which Scott looked hungrily, + for he had a beard that he did not love. And when they sat down to dinner + in the tent he told his tale in few words, as it might have been an + official report. Mrs. Jim snuffled from time to time, and Jim bowed his + head judicially; but William's grey eyes were on the clean-shaven face, + and it was to her that Scott seemed to appeal. + </p> + <p> + “Good for the Pauper Province!” said William, her chin on her hand, as she + leaned forward among the wine-glasses. Her cheeks had fallen in, and the + scar on her forehead was more prominent than ever, but the well-turned + neck rose roundly as a column from the ruffle of the blouse which was the + accepted evening-dress in camp. + </p> + <p> + “It was awfully absurd at times,” said Scott. “You see, I didn't know much + about milking or babies. They'll chaff my head off, if the tale goes up + North.” + </p> + <p> + “Let 'em,” said William, haughtily. “We've all done coolie-work since we + came. I know Jack has.” This was to Hawkins's address, and the big man + smiled blandly. + </p> + <p> + “Your brother's a highly efficient officer, William,” said he, “and I've + done him the honour of treating him as he deserves. Remember, I write the + confidential reports.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you must say that William's worth her weight in gold,” said Mrs. + Jim. “I don't know what we should have done without her. She has been + everything to us.” She dropped her hand upon William's, which was rough + with much handling of reins, and William patted it softly. Jim beamed on + the company. Things were going well with his world. Three of his more + grossly incompetent men had died, and their places had been filled by + their betters. Every day brought the Rains nearer. They had put out the + famine in five of the Eight Districts, and, after all, the death-rate had + not been too heavy—things considered. He looked Scott over + carefully, as an ogre looks over a man, and rejoiced in his thews and + iron-hard condition. + </p> + <p> + “He's just the least bit in the world tucked up,” said Jim to himself, + “but he can do two men's work yet.” Then he was aware that Mrs. Jim was + telegraphing to him, and according to the domestic code the message ran: + “A clear case. Look at them!” + </p> + <p> + He looked and listened. All that William was saying was: “What can you + expect of a country where they call a bhistee [a water-carrier] a + tunni-cutch?” and all that Scott answered was: “I shall be glad to get + back to the Club. Save me a dance at the Christmas Ball, won't you?” + </p> + <p> + “It's a far cry from here to the Lawrence Hall,” said Jim. “Better turn in + early, Scott. It's paddy-carts to-morrow; you'll begin loading at five.” + </p> + <p> + “Aren't you going to give Mr. Scott a single day's rest?” + </p> + <p> + “'Wish I could, Lizzie, but I'm afraid I can't. As long as he can stand up + we must use him.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I've had one Europe evening, at least. By Jove, I'd nearly + forgotten! What do I do about those babies of mine?” + </p> + <p> + “Leave them here,” said William—“we are in charge of that—and + as many goats as you can spare. I must learn how to milk now.” + </p> + <p> + “If you care to get up early enough to-morrow I'll show you. I have to + milk, you see. Half of 'em have beads and things round their necks. You + must be careful not to take 'em off; in case the mothers turn up.” + </p> + <p> + “You forget I've had some experience here.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope to goodness you won't overdo.” Scott's voice was unguarded. + </p> + <p> + “I'll take care of her,” said Mrs. Jim, telegraphing hundred-word messages + as she carried William off; while Jim gave Scott his orders for the coming + campaign. It was very late—nearly nine o'clock. + </p> + <p> + “Jim, you're a brute,” said his wife, that night; and the Head of the + Famine chuckled. + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit of it, dear. I remember doing the first Jandiala Settlement for + the sake of a girl in a crinoline, and she was slender, Lizzie. I've never + done as good a piece of work since. He'll work like a demon.” + </p> + <p> + “But you might have given him one day.” + </p> + <p> + “And let things come to a head now? No, dear; it's their happiest time.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe either of the darlings know what's the matter with them. + Isn't it beautiful? Isn't it lovely?” + </p> + <p> + “Getting up at three to learn to milk, bless her heart! Oh, ye Gods, why + must we grow old and fat?” + </p> + <p> + “She's a darling. She has done more work under me—” + </p> + <p> + “Under you? The day after she came she was in charge and you were her + subordinate. You've stayed there ever since; she manages you almost as + well as you manage me.” + </p> + <p> + “She doesn't, and that's why I love her. She's as direct as a man—as + her brother.” + </p> + <p> + “Her brother's weaker than she is. He's always to me for orders; but he's + honest, and a glutton for work. I confess I'm rather fond of William, and + if I had a daughter—” + </p> + <p> + The talk ended. Far away in the Derajat was a child's grave more than + twenty years old, and neither Jim nor his wife spoke of it any more. + </p> + <p> + “All the same, you're responsible,” Jim added, a moment's silence. + </p> + <p> + “Bless 'em!” said Mrs. Jim, sleepily. + </p> + <p> + Before the stars paled, Scott, who slept in an empty cart, waked and went + about his work in silence; it seemed at that hour unkind to rouse Faiz + Ullah and the interpreter. His head being close to the ground, he did not + hear William till she stood over him in the dingy old riding-habit, her + eyes still heavy with sleep, a cup of tea and a piece of toast in her + hands. There was a baby on the ground, squirming on a piece of blanket, + and a six-year-old child peered over Scott's shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Hai, you little rip,” said Scott, “how the deuce do you expect to get + your rations if you aren't quiet?” + </p> + <p> + A cool white hand steadied the brat, who forthwith choked as the milk + gurgled into his mouth. + </p> + <p> + “'Mornin',” said the milker. “You've no notion how these little fellows + can wriggle.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, I have.” She whispered, because the world was asleep. “Only I + feed them with a spoon or a rag. Yours are fatter than mine. And you've + been doing this day after day?” The voice was almost lost. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; it was absurd. Now you try,” he said, giving place to the girl. + “Look out! A goat's not a cow.” + </p> + <p> + The goat protested against the amateur, and there was a scuffle, in which + Scott snatched up the baby. Then it was all to do over again, and William + laughed softly and merrily. She managed, however, to feed two babies, and + a third. + </p> + <p> + “Don't the little beggars take it well?” said Scott. “I trained 'em.” + </p> + <p> + They were very busy and interested, when lo! it was broad daylight, and + before they knew, the camp was awake, and they kneeled among the goats, + surprised by the day, both flushed to the temples. Yet all the round world + rolling up out of the darkness might have heard and seen all that had + passed between them. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said William, unsteadily, snatching up the tea and toast, “I had + this made for you. It's stone-cold now. I thought you mightn't have + anything ready so early. 'Better not drink it. It's—it's + stone-cold.” + </p> + <p> + “That's awfully kind of you. It's just right. It's awfully good of you, + really. I'll leave my kids and goats with you and Mrs. Jim, and, of + course, any one in camp can show you about the milking.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” said William; and she grew pinker and pinker and statelier + and more stately, as she strode back to her tent, fanning herself with the + saucer. + </p> + <p> + There were shrill lamentations through the camp when the elder children + saw their nurse move off without them. Faiz Ullah unbent so far as to jest + with the policemen, and Scott turned purple with shame because Hawkins, + already in the saddle, roared. + </p> + <p> + A child escaped from the care of Mrs. Jim, and, running like a rabbit, + clung to Scott's boot, William pursuing with long, easy strides. + </p> + <p> + “I will not go—I will not go!” shrieked the child, twining his feet + round Scott's ankle. “They will kill me here. I do not know these people.” + </p> + <p> + “I say,” said Scott, in broken Tamil, “I say, she will do you no harm. Go + with her and be well fed.” + </p> + <p> + “Come!” said William, panting, with a wrathful glance at Scott, who stood + helpless and, as it were, hamstrung. + </p> + <p> + “Go back,” said Scott quickly to William. “I'll send the little chap over + in a minute.” + </p> + <p> + The tone of authority had its effect, but in a way Scott did not exactly + intend. The boy loosened his grasp, and said with gravity: “I did not know + the woman was thine. I will go.” Then he cried to his companions, a mob of + three-, four-, and five-year-olds waiting on the success of his venture + ere they stampeded: “Go back and eat. It is our man's woman. She will obey + his orders.” + </p> + <p> + Jim collapsed where he sat; Faiz Ullah and the two policemen grinned; and + Scott's orders to the cartmen flew like hail. + </p> + <p> + “That is the custom of the Sahibs when truth is told in their presence,” + said Faiz Ullah. “The time comes that I must seek new service. Young + wives, especially such as speak our language and have knowledge of the + ways of the Police, make great trouble for honest butlers in the matter of + weekly accounts.” + </p> + <p> + What William thought of it all she did not say, but when her brother, ten + days later, came to camp for orders, and heard of Scott's performances, he + said, laughing: “Well, that settles it. He'll be Bakri Scott to the end of + his days.” (Bakri in the Northern vernacular, means a goat.) “What a lark! + I'd have given a month's pay to have seen him nursing famine babies. I fed + some with conjee [rice-water], but that was all right.” + </p> + <p> + “It's perfectly disgusting,” said his sister, with blazing eyes. “A man + does something like—like that—and all you other men think of + is to give him an absurd nickname, and then you laugh and think it's + funny.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said Mrs. Jim, sympathetically. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you can't talk, William. You christened little Miss Demby the + Button-quail, last cold weather; you know you did. India's the land of + nicknames.” + </p> + <p> + “That's different,” William replied. “She was only a girl, and she hadn't + done anything except walk like a quail, and she does. But it isn't fair to + make fun of a man.” + </p> + <p> + “Scott won't care,” said Martyn. “You can't get a rise out of old Scotty. + I've been trying for eight years, and you've only known him for three. How + does he look?” + </p> + <p> + “He looks very well,” said William, and went away with a flushed cheek. + “Bakri Scott, indeed!” Then she laughed to herself, for she knew her + country. “But it will he Bakri all the same”; and she repeated it under + her breath several times slowly, whispering it into favour. + </p> + <p> + When he returned to his duties on the railway, Martyn spread the name far + and wide among his associates, so that Scott met it as he led his + paddy-carts to war. The natives believed it to be some English title of + honour, and the cart-drivers used it in all simplicity till Faiz Ullah, + who did not approve of foreign japes, broke their heads. There was very + little time for milking now, except at the big camps, where Jim had + extended Scott's idea and was feeding large flocks on the useless northern + grains. Sufficient paddy had come now into the Eight Districts to hold the + people safe, if it were only distributed quickly, and for that purpose no + one was better than the big Canal officer, who never lost his temper, + never gave an unnecessary order, and never questioned an order given. + Scott pressed on, saving his cattle, washing their galled necks daily, so + that no time should be lost on the road; reported himself with his rice at + the minor famine-sheds, unloaded, and went back light by forced + night-march to the next distributing centre, to find Hawkins's unvarying + telegram: “Do it again.” And he did it again and again, and yet again, + while Jim Hawkins, fifty miles away, marked off on a big map the tracks of + his wheels gridironing the stricken lands. Others did well—Hawkins + reported at the end they all did well—but Scott was the most + excellent, for he kept good coined rupees by him, settled for his own + cart-repairs on the spot, and ran to meet all sorts of unconsidered + extras, trusting to be recouped later on. Theoretically, the Government + should have paid for every shoe and linchpin, for every hand employed in + the loading; but Government vouchers cash themselves slowly, and + intelligent and efficient clerks write at great length, contesting + unauthorised expenditures of eight annas. The man who wants to make his + work a success must draw on his own bank-account of money or other things + as he goes. + </p> + <p> + “I told you he'd work,” said Jimmy to his wife, at the end of six weeks. + “He's been in sole charge of a couple of thousand men up north, on the + Mosuhl Canal, for a year; but he gives less trouble than young Martyn with + his ten constables; and I'm morally certain—only Government doesn't + recognise moral obligations—he's spent about half his pay to grease + his wheels. Look at this, Lizzie, for one week's work! Forty miles in two + days with twelve carts; two days' halt building a famine-shed for young + Rogers. (Rogers ought to have built it himself, the idiot!) Then forty + miles back again, loading six carts on the way, and distributing all + Sunday. Then in the evening he pitches in a twenty-page Demi-Official to + me, saying the people where he is might be 'advantageously employed on + relief-work,' and suggesting that he put 'em to work on some broken-down + old reservoir he's discovered, so as to have a good water-supply when the + Rains break. 'Thinks he can cauk the dam in a fortnight. Look at his + marginal sketches—aren't they clear and good? I knew he was pukka, + but I didn't know he was as pukka as this.” + </p> + <p> + “I must show these to William,” said Mrs. Jim. “The child's wearing + herself out among the babies.” + </p> + <p> + “Not more than you are, dear. Well, another two months ought to see us out + of the wood. I'm sorry it's not in my power to recommend you for a V. C.” + </p> + <p> + William sat late in her tent that night, reading through page after page + of the square handwriting, patting the sketches of proposed repairs to the + reservoir, and wrinkling her eyebrows over the columns of figures of + estimated water-supply. “And he finds time to do all this,” she cried to + herself, “and—well, I also was present. I've saved one or two + babies.” + </p> + <p> + She dreamed for the twentieth time of the god in the golden dust, and woke + refreshed to feed loathsome black children, scores of them, wastrels + picked up by the wayside, their bones almost breaking their skin, terrible + and covered with sores. + </p> + <p> + Scott was not allowed to leave his cart-work, but his letter was duly + forwarded to the Government, and he had the consolation, not rare in + India, of knowing that another man was reaping where he had sown. That + also was discipline profitable to the soul. + </p> + <p> + “He's much too good to waste on canals,” said Jimmy. “Any one can oversee + coolies. You needn't be angry, William; he can—but I need my pearl + among bullock-drivers, and I've transferred him to the Khanda district, + where he'll have it all to do over again. He should be marching now. + </p> + <p> + “He's not a coolie,” said William, furiously. “He ought to be doing his + regulation work.” + </p> + <p> + “He's the best man in his service, and that's saying a good deal; but if + you must use razors to cut grindstones, why, I prefer the best cutlery.” + </p> + <p> + “Isn't it almost time we saw him again?” said Mrs. Jim. “I'm sure the poor + boy hasn't had a respectable meal for a month. He probably sits on a cart + and eats sardines with his fingers.” + </p> + <p> + “All in good time, dear. Duty before decency—wasn't it Mr. Chucks + said that?” + </p> + <p> + “No; it was Midshipman Easy,” William laughed. “I sometimes wonder how it + will feel to dance or listen to a band again, or sit under a roof. I can't + believe I ever wore a ball-frock in my life.” + </p> + <p> + “One minute,” said Mrs. Jim, who was thinking. “If he goes to Khanda, he + passes within five miles of us. Of course he'll ride in.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, he won't,” said William. + </p> + <p> + “How do you know, dear?” + </p> + <p> + “It will take him off his work. He won't have time.” + </p> + <p> + “He'll make it,” said Mrs. Jim, with a twinkle. + </p> + <p> + “It depends on his own judgment. There's absolutely no reason why he + shouldn't, if he thinks fit,” said Jim. + </p> + <p> + “He won't see fit,” William replied, without sorrow or emotion. “It + wouldn't be him if he did.” + </p> + <p> + “One certainly gets to know people rather well in times like these,” said + Jim, drily; but William's face was serene as ever, and even as she + prophesied, Scott did not appear. + </p> + <p> + The Rains fell at last, late, but heavily; and the dry, gashed earth was + red mud, and servants killed snakes in the camp, where every one was + weather-bound for a fortnight—all except Hawkins, who took horse and + plashed about in the wet, rejoicing. Now the Government decreed that + seed-grain should be distributed to the people, as well as advances of + money for the purchase of new oxen; and the white men were doubly worked + for this new duty, while William skipped from brick to brick laid down on + the trampled mud, and dosed her charges with warming medicines that made + them rub their little round stomachs; and the milch goats throve on the + rank grass. There was never a word from Scott in the Khanda district, away + to the southeast, except the regular telegraphic report to Hawkins. The + rude country roads had disappeared; his drivers were half mutinous; one of + Martyn's loaned policemen had died of cholera; and Scott was taking thirty + grains of quinine a day to fight the fever that comes with the rain: but + those were things Scott did not consider necessary to report. He was, as + usual, working from a base of supplies on a railway line, to cover a + circle of fifteen miles radius, and since full loads were impossible, he + took quarter-loads, and toiled four times as hard by consequence; for he + did not choose to risk an epidemic which might have grown uncontrollable + by assembling villagers in thousands at the relief-sheds. It was cheaper + to take Government bullocks, work them to death, and leave them to the + crows in the wayside sloughs. + </p> + <p> + That was the time when eight years of clean living and hard condition + told, though a man's head were ringing like a bell from the cinchona, and + the earth swayed under his feet when he stood and under his bed when he + slept. If Hawkins had seen fit to make him a bullock-driver, that, he + thought, was entirely Hawkins's own affair. There were men in the North + who would know what he had done; men of thirty years' service in his own + department who would say that it was “not half bad”; and above, + immeasurably above, all men of all grades, there was William in the thick + of the fight, who would approve because she understood. He had so trained + his mind that it would hold fast to the mechanical routine of the day, + though his own voice sounded strange in his own ears, and his hands, when + he wrote, grew large as pillows or small as peas at the end of his wrists. + That steadfastness bore his body to the telegraph-office at the + railway-station, and dictated a telegram to Hawkins saying that the Khanda + district was, in his judgment, now safe, and he “waited further orders.” + </p> + <p> + The Madrassee telegraph-clerk did not approve of a large, gaunt man + falling over him in a dead faint, not so much because of the weight as + because of the names and blows that Faiz Ullah dealt him when he found the + body rolled under a bench. Then Faiz Ullah took blankets, quilts, and + coverlets where he found them, and lay down under them at his master's + side, and bound his arms with a tent-rope, and filled him with a horrible + stew of herbs, and set the policeman to fight him when he wished to escape + from the intolerable heat of his coverings, and shut the door of the + telegraph-office to keep out the curious for two nights and one day; and + when a light engine came down the line, and Hawkins kicked in the door, + Scott hailed him weakly but in a natural voice, and Faiz Ullah stood back + and took all the credit. + </p> + <p> + “For two nights, Heaven-born, he was pagal” said Faiz Ullah. “Look at my + nose, and consider the eye of the policeman. He beat us with his bound + hands; but we sat upon him, Heaven-born, and though his words were tez, we + sweated him. Heaven-born, never has been such a sweat! He is weaker now + than a child; but the fever has gone out of him, by the grace of God. + There remains only my nose and the eye of the constabeel. Sahib, shall I + ask for my dismissal because my Sahib has beaten me?” And Faiz Ullah laid + his long thin hand carefully on Scott's chest to be sure that the fever + was all gone, ere he went out to open tinned soups and discourage such as + laughed at his swelled nose. + </p> + <p> + “The district's all right,” Scott whispered. “It doesn't make any + difference. You got my wire? I shall be fit in a week. 'Can't understand + how it happened. I shall be fit in a few days.” + </p> + <p> + “You're coming into camp with us,” said Hawkins. + </p> + <p> + “But look here—but—” + </p> + <p> + “It's all over except the shouting. We sha'n't need you Punjabis any more. + On my honour, we sha'n't. Martyn goes back in a few weeks; Arbuthnot's + returned already; Ellis and Clay are putting the last touches to a new + feeder-line the Government's built as relief-work. Morten's dead—he + was a Bengal man, though; you wouldn't know him. 'Pon my word, you and + Will—Miss Martyn—seem to have come through it as well as + anybody.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how is she, by-the-way?” The voice went up and down as he spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Going strong when I left her. The Roman Catholic Missions are adopting + the unclaimed babies to turn them into little priests; the Basil Mission + is taking some, and the mothers are taking the rest. You should hear the + little beggars howl when they're sent away from William. She's pulled down + a bit, but so are we all. Now, when do you suppose you'll be able to + move?” + </p> + <p> + “I can't come into camp in this state. I won't,” he replied pettishly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you are rather a sight, but from what I gathered there it seemed to + me they'd be glad to see you under any conditions. I'll look over your + work here, if you like, for a couple of days, and you can pull yourself + together while Faiz Ullah feeds you up.” + </p> + <p> + Scott could walk dizzily by the time Hawkins's inspection was ended, and + he flushed all over when Jim said of his work that it was “not half bad,” + and volunteered, further, that he had considered Scott his right-hand man + through the famine, and would feel it his duty to say as much officially. + </p> + <p> + So they came back by rail to the old camp; but there were no crowds near + it; the long fires in the trenches were dead and black, and the + famine-sheds were almost empty. + </p> + <p> + “You see!” said Jim. “There isn't much more to do. 'Better ride up and see + the wife. They've pitched a tent for you. Dinner's at seven. I've some + work here.” + </p> + <p> + Riding at a foot-pace, Faiz Ullah by his stirrup, Scott came to William in + the brown-calico riding-habit, sitting at the dining-tent door, her hands + in her lap, white as ashes, thin and worn, with no lustre in her hair. + There did not seem to be any Mrs. Jim on the horizon, and all that William + could say was: “My word, how pulled down you look!” + </p> + <p> + “I've had a touch of fever. You don't look very well yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm fit enough. We've stamped it out. I suppose you know?” + </p> + <p> + Scott nodded. “We shall all be returned in a few weeks. Hawkins told me.” + </p> + <p> + “Before Christmas, Mrs. Jim says. Sha'n't you be glad to go back? I can + smell the wood-smoke already”; William sniffed. “We shall be in time for + all the Christmas doings. I don't suppose even the Punjab Government would + be base enough to transfer Jack till the new year?” + </p> + <p> + “It seems hundreds of years ago—the Punjab and all that—doesn't + it? Are you glad you came?” + </p> + <p> + “Now it's all over, yes. It has been ghastly here, though. You know we had + to sit still and do nothing, and Sir Jim was away so much.” + </p> + <p> + “Do nothing! How did you get on with the milking?” + </p> + <p> + “I managed it somehow—after you taught me. 'Remember?” + </p> + <p> + Then the talk stopped with an almost audible jar. Still no Mrs. Jim. + </p> + <p> + “That reminds me, I owe you fifty rupees for the condensed-milk. I thought + perhaps you'd be coming here when you were transferred to the Khanda + district, and I could pay you then; but you didn't.” + </p> + <p> + “I passed within five miles of the camp, but it was in the middle of a + march, you see, and the carts were breaking down every few minutes, and I + couldn't get 'em over the ground till ten o'clock that night. I wanted to + come awfully. You knew I did, didn't you?” + </p> + <p> + “I—believe—I—did,” said William, facing him with level + eyes. “She was no longer white.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you understand?” + </p> + <p> + “Why you didn't ride in? Of course I did.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Because you couldn't, of course. I knew that.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you care?” + </p> + <p> + “If you had come in—but I knew you wouldn't—but if you had, I + should have cared a great deal. You know I should.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank God I didn't! Oh, but I wanted to! I couldn't trust myself to ride + in front of the carts, because I kept edging 'em over here, don't you + know?” + </p> + <p> + “I knew you wouldn't,” said William, contentedly. “Here's your fifty.” + </p> + <p> + Scott bent forward and kissed the hand that held the greasy notes. Its + fellow patted him awkwardly but very tenderly on the head. + </p> + <p> + “And you knew, too, didn't you?” said William, in a new voice. + </p> + <p> + “No, on my honour, I didn't. I hadn't the—the cheek to expect + anything of the kind, except... I say, were you out riding anywhere the + day I passed by to Khanda?” + </p> + <p> + William nodded, and smiled after the manner of an angel surprised in a + good deed. + </p> + <p> + “Then it was just a speck I saw of your habit in the—” + </p> + <p> + “Palm-grove on the Southern cart-road. I saw your helmet when you came up + from the mullah by the temple—just enough to be sure that you were + all right. D' you care?” + </p> + <p> + This time Scott did not kiss her hand, for they were in the dusk of the + dining-tent, and, because William's knees were trembling under her, she + had to sit down in the nearest chair, where she wept long and happily, her + head on her arms; and when Scott imagined that it would be well to comfort + her, she needing nothing of the kind, she ran to her own tent; and Scott + went out into the world, and smiled upon it largely and idiotically. But + when Faiz Ullah brought him a drink, he found it necessary to support one + hand with the other, or the good whisky and soda would have been spilled + abroad. There are fevers and fevers. + </p> + <p> + But it was worse—much worse—the strained, eye-shirking talk at + dinner till the servants had withdrawn, and worst of all when Mrs. Jim, + who had been on the edge of weeping from the soup down, kissed Scott and + William, and they drank one whole bottle of champagne, hot, because there + was no ice, and Scott and William sat outside the tent in the starlight + till Mrs. Jim drove them in for fear of more fever. + </p> + <p> + Apropos of these things and some others William said: “Being engaged is + abominable, because, you see, one has no official position. We must be + thankful we've lots of things to do.” + </p> + <p> + “Things to do!” said Jim, when that was reported to him. “They're neither + of them any good any more. I can't get five hours' work a day out of + Scott. He's in the clouds half the time.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but they're so beautiful to watch, Jimmy. It will break my heart when + they go. Can't you do anything for him?” + </p> + <p> + “I've given the Government the impression—at least, I hope I have—that + he personally conducted the entire famine. But all he wants is to get on + to the Luni Canal Works, and William's just as bad. Have you ever heard + 'em talking of barrage and aprons and waste-water? It's their style of + spooning, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Jim smiled tenderly. “Ah, that's in the intervals—bless 'em.” + </p> + <p> + And so Love ran about the camp unrebuked in broad daylight, while men + picked up the pieces and put them neatly away of the Famine in the Eight + Districts. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Morning brought the penetrating chill of the Northern December, the layers + of wood-smoke, the dusty grey-blue of the tamarisks, the domes of ruined + tombs, and all the smell of the white Northern plains, as the mail-train + ran on to the mile-long Sutlej Bridge. William, wrapped in a poshteen—a + silk-embroidered sheepskin jacket trimmed with rough astrakhan—looked + out with moist eyes and nostrils that dilated joyously. The South of + pagodas and palm-trees, the overpopulated Hindu South, was done with. Here + was the land she knew and loved, and before her lay the good life she + understood, among folk of her own caste and mind. + </p> + <p> + They were picking them up at almost every station now—men and women + coming in for the Christmas Week, with racquets, with bundles of + polo-sticks, with dear and bruised cricket-bats, with fox-terriers and + saddles. The greater part of them wore jackets like William's, for the + Northern cold is as little to be trifled with as the Northern heat. And + William was among them and of them, her hands deep in her pockets, her + collar turned up over her ears, stamping her feet on the platforms as she + walked up and down to get warm, visiting from carriage to carriage and + everywhere being congratulated. Scott was with the bachelors at the far + end of the train, where they chaffed him mercilessly about feeding babies + and milking goats; but from time to time he would stroll up to William's + window, and murmur: “Good enough, isn't it?” and William would answer with + sighs of pure delight: “Good enough, indeed.” The large open names of the + home towns were good to listen to. Umballa, Ludianah, Phillour, Jullundur, + they rang like the coming marriage-bells in her ears, and William felt + deeply and truly sorry for all strangers and outsiders—visitors, + tourists, and those fresh-caught for the service of the country. + </p> + <p> + It was a glorious return, and when the bachelors gave the Christmas Ball, + William was, unofficially, you might say, the chief and honoured guest + among the Stewards, who could make things very pleasant for their friends. + She and Scott danced nearly all the dances together, and sat out the rest + in the big dark gallery overlooking the superb teak floor, where the + uniforms blazed, and the spurs clinked, and the new frocks and four + hundred dancers went round and round till the draped flags on the pillars + flapped and bellied to the whirl of it. + </p> + <p> + About midnight half a dozen men who did not care for dancing came over + from the Club to play “Waits,” and that was a surprise the Stewards had + arranged—before any one knew what had happened, the band stopped, + and hidden voices broke into “Good King Wenceslaus,” and William in the + gallery hummed and beat time with her foot: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Mark my footsteps well, my page, + Tread thou in them boldly. + Thou shalt feel the winter's rage + Freeze thy blood less coldly!” + </pre> + <p> + “Oh, I hope they are going to give us another! Isn't it pretty, coming out + of the dark in that way? Look—look down. There's Mrs. Gregory wiping + her eyes!” + </p> + <p> + “It's like Home, rather,” said Scott. “I remember—” + </p> + <p> + “Hsh! Listen!—dear.” And it began again: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “When shepherds watched their flocks by night—” + </pre> + <p> + “A-h-h!” said William, drawing closer to Scott. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “All seated on the ground, + The Angel of the Lord came down, + And glory shone around. + 'Fear not,' said he (for mighty dread + Had seized their troubled mind); + 'Glad tidings of great joy I bring + To you and all mankind.'” + </pre> + <p> + This time it was William that wiped her eyes. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + .007 + </h2> + <p> + A locomotive is, next to a marine engine, the most sensitive thing man + ever made; and No. .007, besides being sensitive, was new. The red paint + was hardly dry on his spotless bumper-bar, his headlight shone like a + fireman's helmet, and his cab might have been a hard-wood-finish parlour. + They had run him into the round-house after his trial—he had said + good-bye to his best friend in the shops, the overhead travelling-crane—the + big world was just outside; and the other locos were taking stock of him. + He looked at the semicircle of bold, unwinking headlights, heard the low + purr and mutter of the steam mounting in the gauges—scornful hisses + of contempt as a slack valve lifted a little—and would have given a + month's oil for leave to crawl through his own driving-wheels into the + brick ash-pit beneath him. .007 was an eight-wheeled “American” loco, + slightly different from others of his type, and as he stood he was worth + ten thousand dollars on the Company's books. But if you had bought him at + his own valuation, after half an hour's waiting in the darkish, echoing + round-house, you would have saved exactly nine thousand nine hundred and + ninety-nine dollars and ninety-eight cents. + </p> + <p> + A heavy Mogul freight, with a short cow-catcher and a fire-box that came + down within three inches of the rail, began the impolite game, speaking to + a Pittsburgh Consolidation, who was visiting. + </p> + <p> + “Where did this thing blow in from?” he asked, with a dreamy puff of light + steam. + </p> + <p> + “it's all I can do to keep track of our makes,” was the answer, “without + lookin' after your back-numbers. Guess it's something Peter Cooper left + over when he died.” + </p> + <p> + .007 quivered; his steam was getting up, but he held his tongue. Even a + hand-car knows what sort of locomotive it was that Peter Cooper + experimented upon in the far-away Thirties. It carried its coal and water + in two apple-barrels, and was not much bigger than a bicycle. + </p> + <p> + Then up and spoke a small, newish switching-engine, with a little step in + front of his bumper-timber, and his wheels so close together that he + looked like a broncho getting ready to buck. + </p> + <p> + “Something's wrong with the road when a Pennsylvania gravel-pusher tells + us anything about our stock, I think. That kid's all right. Eustis + designed him, and Eustis designed me. Ain't that good enough?” + </p> + <p> + .007 could have carried the switching-loco round the yard in his tender, + but he felt grateful for even this little word of consolation. + </p> + <p> + “We don't use hand-cars on the Pennsylvania,” said the Consolidation. + “That—er—peanut-stand is old enough and ugly enough to speak + for himself.” + </p> + <p> + “He hasn't bin spoken to yet. He's bin spoke at. Hain't ye any manners on + the Pennsylvania?” said the switching-loco. + </p> + <p> + “You ought to be in the yard, Poney,” said the Mogul, severely. “We're all + long-haulers here.” + </p> + <p> + “That's what you think,” the little fellow replied. “You'll know more + 'fore the night's out. I've bin down to Track 17, and the freight there—oh, + Christmas!” + </p> + <p> + “I've trouble enough in my own division,” said a lean, light suburban loco + with very shiny brake-shoes. “My commuters wouldn't rest till they got a + parlourcar. They've hitched it back of all, and it hauls worsen a + snow-plough. I'll snap her off someday sure, and then they'll blame every + one except their foolselves. They'll be askin' me to haul a vestibuled + next!” + </p> + <p> + “They made you in New Jersey, didn't they?” said Poney. “Thought so. + Commuters and truck-wagons ain't any sweet haulin', but I tell you they're + a heap better 'n cuttin' out refrigerator-cars or oil-tanks. Why, I've + hauled—” + </p> + <p> + “Haul! You?” said the Mogul, contemptuously. “It's all you can do to bunt + a cold-storage car up the yard. Now, I—” he paused a little to let + the words sink in—“I handle the Flying Freight—e-leven cars + worth just anything you please to mention. On the stroke of eleven I pull + out; and I'm timed for thirty-five an hour. Costly-perishable-fragile, + immediate—that's me! Suburban traffic's only but one degree better + than switching. Express freight's what pays.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I ain't given to blowing, as a rule,” began the Pittsburgh + Consolidation. + </p> + <p> + “No? You was sent in here because you grunted on the grade,” Poney + interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “Where I grunt, you'd lie down, Poney: but, as I was saying, I don't blow + much. Notwithstandin', if you want to see freight that is freight moved + lively, you should see me warbling through the Alleghanies with + thirty-seven ore-cars behind me, and my brakemen fightin' tramps so's they + can't attend to my tooter. I have to do all the holdin' back then, and, + though I say it, I've never had a load get away from me yet. No, sir. + Haulin's's one thing, but judgment and discretion's another. You want + judgment in my business.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! But—but are you not paralysed by a sense of your overwhelming + responsibilities?” said a curious, husky voice from a corner. + </p> + <p> + “Who's that?”.007 whispered to the Jersey commuter. + </p> + <p> + “Compound-experiment-N.G. She's bin switchin' in the B. & A. yards for + six months, when she wasn't in the shops. She's economical (I call it + mean) in her coal, but she takes it out in repairs. Ahem! I presume you + found Boston somewhat isolated, madam, after your New York season?” + </p> + <p> + “I am never so well occupied as when I am alone.” The Compound seemed to + be talking from half-way up her smoke-stack. + </p> + <p> + “Sure,” said the irreverent Poney, under his breath. “They don't hanker + after her any in the yard.” + </p> + <p> + “But, with my constitution and temperament—my work lies in Boston—I + find your outrecuidance—” + </p> + <p> + “Outer which?” said the Mogul freight. “Simple cylinders are good enough + for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I should have said faroucherie,” hissed the Compound. + </p> + <p> + “I don't hold with any make of papier-mache wheel,” the Mogul insisted. + </p> + <p> + The Compound sighed pityingly, and said no more. + </p> + <p> + “Git 'em all shapes in this world, don't ye?” said Poney, “that's + Mass'chusetts all over. They half start, an' then they stick on a + dead-centre, an' blame it all on other folk's ways o' treatin' them. + Talkin' o' Boston, Comanche told me, last night, he had a hot-box just + beyond the Newtons, Friday. That was why, he says, the Accommodation was + held up. Made out no end of a tale, Comanche did.” + </p> + <p> + “If I'd heard that in the shops, with my boiler out for repairs, I'd know + 't was one o' Comanche's lies,” the New Jersey commuter snapped. “Hot-box! + Him! What happened was they'd put an extra car on, and he just lay down on + the grade and squealed. They had to send 127 to help him through. Made it + out a hotbox, did he? Time before that he said he was ditched! Looked me + square in the headlight and told me that as cool as—as a water-tank + in a cold wave. Hot-box! You ask 127 about Comanche's hot-box. Why, + Comanche he was side-tracked, and 127 (he was just about as mad as they + make 'em on account o' being called out at ten o'clock at night) took hold + and snapped her into Boston in seventeen minutes. Hot-box! Hot fraud! + that's what Comanche is.” + </p> + <p> + Then.007 put both drivers and his pilot into it, as the saying is, for he + asked what sort of thing a hot-box might be? + </p> + <p> + “Paint my bell sky-blue!” said Poney, the switcher. “Make me a + surface-railroad loco with a hard-wood skirtin'-board round my wheels. + Break me up and cast me into five-cent sidewalk-fakirs' mechanical toys! + Here's an eight-wheel coupled 'American' don't know what a hot-box is! + Never heard of an emergency-stop either, did ye? Don't know what ye carry + jack-screws for? You're too innocent to be left alone with your own + tender. Oh, you—you flatcar!” + </p> + <p> + There was a roar of escaping steam before any one could answer, and .007 + nearly blistered his paint off with pure mortification. + </p> + <p> + “A hot-box,” began the Compound, picking and choosing her words as though + they were coal, “a hotbox is the penalty exacted from inexperience by + haste. Ahem!” + </p> + <p> + “Hot-box!” said the Jersey Suburban. “It's the price you pay for going on + the tear. It's years since I've had one. It's a disease that don't attack + shorthaulers, as a rule.” + </p> + <p> + “We never have hot-boxes on the Pennsylvania,” said the Consolidation. + “They get 'em in New York—same as nervous prostration.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, go home on a ferry-boat,” said the Mogul. “You think because you use + worse grades than our road 'u'd allow, you're a kind of Alleghany angel. + Now, I'll tell you what you... Here's my folk. Well, I can't stop. See you + later, perhaps.” + </p> + <p> + He rolled forward majestically to the turn-table, and swung like a + man-of-war in a tideway, till he picked up his track. “But as for you, you + pea-green swiveling' coffee-pot (this to.007'), you go out and learn + something before you associate with those who've made more mileage in a + week than you'll roll up in a year. Costly-perishable-fragile immediate—that's + me! S' long.” + </p> + <p> + “Split my tubes if that's actin' polite to a new member o' the + Brotherhood,” said Poney. “There wasn't any call to trample on ye like + that. But manners was left out when Moguls was made. Keep up your fire, + kid, an' burn your own smoke. 'Guess we'll all be wanted in a minute.” + </p> + <p> + Men were talking rather excitedly in the roundhouse. One man, in a dingy + jersey, said that he hadn't any locomotives to waste on the yard. Another + man, with a piece of crumpled paper in his hand, said that the yard-master + said that he was to say that if the other man said anything, he (the other + man) was to shut his head. Then the other man waved his arms, and wanted + to know if he was expected to keep locomotives in his hip-pocket. Then a + man in a black Prince Albert, without a collar, came up dripping, for it + was a hot August night, and said that what he said went; and between the + three of them the locomotives began to go, too—first the Compound; + then the Consolidation; then.007. + </p> + <p> + Now, deep down in his fire-box, .007 had cherished a hope that as soon as + his trial was done, he would be led forth with songs and shoutings, and + attached to a green-and-chocolate vestibuled flyer, under charge of a bold + and noble engineer, who would pat him on his back, and weep over him, and + call him his Arab steed. (The boys in the shops where he was built used to + read wonderful stories of railroad life, and .007 expected things to + happen as he had heard.) But there did not seem to be many vestibuled + fliers in the roaring, rumbling, electric-lighted yards, and his engineer + only said: + </p> + <p> + “Now, what sort of a fool-sort of an injector has Eustis loaded on to this + rig this time?” And he put the lever over with an angry snap, crying: “Am + I supposed to switch with this thing, hey?” + </p> + <p> + The collarless man mopped his head, and replied that, in the present state + of the yard and freight and a few other things, the engineer would switch + and keep on switching till the cows came home. .007 pushed out gingerly, + his heart in his headlight, so nervous that the clang of his own bell + almost made him jump the track. Lanterns waved, or danced up and down, + before and behind him; and on every side, six tracks deep, sliding + backward and forward, with clashings of couplers and squeals of + hand-brakes, were cars—more cars than .007 had dreamed of. There + were oil-cars, and hay-cars, and stock-cars full of lowing beasts, and + ore-cars, and potato-cars with stovepipe-ends sticking out in the middle; + cold-storage and refrigerator cars dripping ice water on the tracks; + ventilated fruit—and milk-cars; flatcars with truck-wagons full of + market-stuff; flat-cars loaded with reapers and binders, all red and green + and gilt under the sizzling electric lights; flat-cars piled high with + strong-scented hides, pleasant hemlock-plank, or bundles of shingles; + flat-cars creaking to the weight of thirty-ton castings, angle-irons, and + rivet-boxes for some new bridge; and hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of + box-cars loaded, locked, and chalked. Men—hot and angry—crawled + among and between and under the thousand wheels; men took flying jumps + through his cab, when he halted for a moment; men sat on his pilot as he + went forward, and on his tender as he returned; and regiments of men ran + along the tops of the box-cars beside him, screwing down brakes, waving + their arms, and crying curious things. + </p> + <p> + He was pushed forward a foot at a time; whirled backward, his rear drivers + clinking and clanking, a quarter of a mile; jerked into a switch + (yard-switches are very stubby and unaccommodating), bunted into a Red D, + or Merchant's Transport car, and, with no hint or knowledge of the weight + behind him, started up anew. When his load was fairly on the move, three + or four cars would be cut off, and .007 would bound forward, only to be + held hiccupping on the brake. Then he would wait a few minutes, watching + the whirled lanterns, deafened with the clang of the bells, giddy with the + vision of the sliding cars, his brake-pump panting forty to the minute, + his front coupler lying sideways on his cow-catcher, like a tired dog's + tongue in his mouth, and the whole of him covered with half-burnt + coal-dust. + </p> + <p> + “'Tisn't so easy switching with a straight-backed tender,” said his little + friend of the round-house, bustling by at a trot. “But you're comin' on + pretty fair. 'Ever seen a flyin' switch? No? Then watch me.” + </p> + <p> + Poney was in charge of a dozen heavy flat-cars. Suddenly he shot away from + them with a sharp “Whutt!” A switch opened in the shadows ahead; he turned + up it like a rabbit as it snapped behind him, and the long line of + twelve-foot-high lumber jolted on into the arms of a full-sized road-loco, + who acknowledged receipt with a dry howl. + </p> + <p> + “My man's reckoned the smartest in the yard at that trick,” he said, + returning. “Gives me cold shivers when another fool tries it, though. + That's where my short wheel-base comes in. Like as not you'd have your + tender scraped off if you tried it.” + </p> + <p> + .007 had no ambitions that way, and said so. + </p> + <p> + “No? Of course this ain't your regular business, but say, don't you think + it's interestin'? Have you seen the yard-master? Well, he's the greatest + man on earth, an' don't you forget it. When are we through? Why, kid, it's + always like this, day an' night—Sundays an' week-days. See that + thirty-car freight slidin' in four, no, five tracks off? She's all mixed + freight, sent here to be sorted out into straight trains. That's why we're + cuttin' out the cars one by one.” He gave a vigorous push to a west-bound + car as he spoke, and started back with a little snort of surprise, for the + car was an old friend—an M. T. K. box-car. + </p> + <p> + “Jack my drivers, but it's Homeless Kate! Why, Kate, ain't there no + gettin' you back to your friends? There's forty chasers out for you from + your road, if there's one. Who's holdin' you now?” + </p> + <p> + “Wish I knew,” whimpered Homeless Kate. “I belong in Topeka, but I've bin + to Cedar Rapids; I've bin to Winnipeg; I've bin to Newport News; I've bin + all down the old Atlanta and West Point; an' I've bin to Buffalo. Maybe + I'll fetch up at Haverstraw. I've only bin out ten months, but I'm + homesick—I'm just achin' homesick.” + </p> + <p> + “Try Chicago, Katie,” said the switching-loco; and the battered old car + lumbered down the track, jolting: “I want to be in Kansas when the + sunflowers bloom.” + </p> + <p> + “'Yard's full o' Homeless Kates an' Wanderin' Willies,” he explained + to.007. “I knew an old Fitchburg flat-car out seventeen months; an' one of + ours was gone fifteen 'fore ever we got track of her. Dunno quite how our + men fix it. 'Swap around, I guess. Anyway, I've done my duty. She's on her + way to Kansas, via Chicago; but I'll lay my next boilerful she'll be held + there to wait consignee's convenience, and sent back to us with wheat in + the fall.” + </p> + <p> + Just then the Pittsburgh Consolidation passed, at the head of a dozen + cars. + </p> + <p> + “I'm goin' home,” he said proudly. + </p> + <p> + “Can't get all them twelve on to the flat. Break 'em in half, Dutchy!” + cried Poney. But it was.007 who was backed down to the last six cars, and + he nearly blew up with surprise when he found himself pushing them on to a + huge ferry-boat. He had never seen deep water before, and shivered as the + flat drew away and left his bogies within six inches of the black, shiny + tide. + </p> + <p> + After this he was hurried to the freight-house, where he saw the + yard-master, a smallish, white-faced man in shirt, trousers, and slippers, + looking down upon a sea of trucks, a mob of bawling truckmen, and + squadrons of backing, turning, sweating, spark-striking horses. + </p> + <p> + “That's shippers' carts loadin' on to the receivin' trucks,” said the + small engine, reverently. “But he don't care. He lets 'em cuss. He's the + Czar-King-Boss! He says 'Please,' and then they kneel down an' pray. + There's three or four strings o' today's freight to be pulled before he + can attend to them. When he waves his hand that way, things happen.” + </p> + <p> + A string of loaded cars slid out down the track, and a string of empties + took their place. Bales, crates, boxes, jars, carboys, frails, cases, and + packages flew into them from the freight-house as though the cars had been + magnets and they iron filings. + </p> + <p> + “Ki-yah!” shrieked little Poney. “Ain't it great?” + </p> + <p> + A purple-faced truckman shouldered his way to the yard-master, and shook + his fist under his nose. The yard-master never looked up from his bundle + of freight receipts. He crooked his forefinger slightly, and a tall young + man in a red shirt, lounging carelessly beside him, hit the truckman under + the left ear, so that he dropped, quivering and clucking, on a hay-bale. + </p> + <p> + “Eleven, seven, ninety-seven, L. Y. S.; fourteen ought ought three; + nineteen thirteen; one one four; seventeen ought twenty-one M. B.; and the + ten westbound. All straight except the two last. Cut 'em off at the + junction. An' that's all right. Pull that string.” The yard-master, with + mild blue eyes, looked out over the howling truckmen at the waters in the + moonlight beyond, and hummed: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “All things bright and beautiful, + All creatures great and small, + All things wise and wonderful, + The Lawd Gawd He made all!” + </pre> + <p> + .007 moved out the cars and delivered them to the regular road-engine. He + had never felt quite so limp in his life before. + </p> + <p> + “Curious, ain't it?” said Poney, puffing, on the next track. “You an' me, + if we got that man under our bumpers, we'd work him into red waste an' not + know what we'd done; but-up there—with the steam hummin' in his + boiler that awful quiet way...” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” said.007. “Makes me feel as if I'd dropped my Fire an' was + getting cold. He is the greatest man on earth.” + </p> + <p> + They were at the far north end of the yard now, under a switchtower, + looking down on the four-track way of the main traffic. The Boston + Compound was to haul .007's string to some far-away northern junction over + an indifferent road-bed, and she mourned aloud for the ninety-six pound + rails of the B. & A. + </p> + <p> + “You're young; you're young,” she coughed. “You don't realise your + responsibilities.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he does,” said Poney, sharply; “but he don't lie down under 'em.” + Then, with aside-spurt of steam, exactly like a tough spitting: “There + ain't more than fifteen thousand dollars' worth o' freight behind her + anyway, and she goes on as if 't were a hundred thousand—same as the + Mogul's. Excuse me, madam, but you've the track.... She's stuck on a + dead-centre again—bein' specially designed not to.” + </p> + <p> + The Compound crawled across the tracks on a long slant, groaning horribly + at each switch, and moving like a cow in a snow-drift. There was a little + pause along the yard after her tail-lights had disappeared; switches + locked crisply, and every one seemed to be waiting. + </p> + <p> + “Now I'll show you something worth,” said Poney. “When the Purple Emperor + ain't on time, it's about time to amend the Constitution. The first stroke + of twelve is—” + </p> + <p> + “Boom!” went the clock in the big yard-tower, and far away.007 heard a + full, vibrating “Yah! Yah! Yah!” A headlight twinkled on the horizon like + a star, grew an overpowering blaze, and whooped up the humming track to + the roaring music of a happy giant's song: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “With a michnai—ghignai—shtingal! Yah! Yah! Yah! + Ein—zwei—drei—Mutter! Yah! Yah! Yah! + She climb upon der shteeple, + Und she frighten all der people. + Singin' michnai—ghignai—shtingal! Yah! Yah!” + </pre> + <p> + The last defiant “yah! yah!” was delivered a mile and a half beyond the + passenger-depot; but .007 had caught one glimpse of the superb + six-wheel-coupled racing-locomotive, who hauled the pride and glory of the + road—the gilt-edged Purple Emperor, the millionaires' south-bound + express, laying the miles over his shoulder as a man peels a shaving from + a soft board. The rest was a blur of maroon enamel, a bar of white light + from the electrics in the cars, and a flicker of nickel-plated hand-rail + on the rear platform. + </p> + <p> + “Ooh!” said.007. + </p> + <p> + “Seventy-five miles an hour these five miles. Baths, I've heard; barber's + shop; ticker; and a library and the rest to match. Yes, sir; seventy-five + an hour! But he'll talk to you in the round-house just as democratic as I + would. And I—cuss my wheel-base!—I'd kick clean off the track + at half his gait. He's the Master of our Lodge. Cleans up at our house. + I'll introdooce you some day. He's worth knowin'! There ain't many can + sing that song, either.” + </p> + <p> + .007 was too full of emotions to answer. He did not hear a raging of + telephone-bells in the switch-tower, nor the man, as he leaned out and + called to .007's engineer: “Got any steam?” + </p> + <p> + “'Nough to run her a hundred mile out o' this, if I could,” said the + engineer, who belonged to the open road and hated switching. + </p> + <p> + “Then get. The Flying Freight's ditched forty mile out, with fifty rod o' + track ploughed up. No; no one's hurt, but both tracks are blocked. Lucky + the wreckin'-car an' derrick are this end of the yard. Crew 'll be along + in a minute. Hurry! You've the track.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I could jest kick my little sawed-off self,” said Poney, as .007 + was backed, with a bang, on to a grim and grimy car like a caboose, but + full of tools—a flatcar and a derrick behind it. “Some folks are one + thing, and some are another; but you're in luck, kid. They push a + wrecking-car. Now, don't get rattled. Your wheel-base will keep you on the + track, and there ain't any curves worth mentionin'. Oh, say! Comanche told + me there's one section o' sawedged track that's liable to jounce ye a + little. Fifteen an' a half out, after the grade at Jackson's crossin'. + You'll know it by a farmhouse an' a windmill an' five maples in the + dooryard. Windmill's west o' the maples. An' there's an eighty-foot iron + bridge in the middle o' that section with no guard-rails. See you later. + Luck!” + </p> + <p> + Before he knew well what had happened, .007 was flying up the track into + the dumb, dark world. Then fears of the night beset him. He remembered all + he had ever heard of landslides, rain-piled boulders, blown trees, and + strayed cattle, all that the Boston Compound had ever said of + responsibility, and a great deal more that came out of his own head. With + a very quavering voice he whistled for his first grade-crossing (an event + in the life of a locomotive), and his nerves were in no way restored by + the sight of a frantic horse and a white-faced man in a buggy less than a + yard from his right shoulder. Then he was sure he would jump the track; + felt his flanges mounting the rail at every curve; knew that his first + grade would make him lie down even as Comanche had done at the Newtons. He + whirled down the grade to Jackson's crossing, saw the windmill west of the + maples, felt the badly laid rails spring under him, and sweated big drops + all over his boiler. At each jarring bump he believed an axle had smashed, + and he took the eighty-foot bridge without the guard-rail like a hunted + cat on the top of a fence. Then a wet leaf stuck against the glass of his + headlight and threw a flying shadow on the track, so that he thought it + was some little dancing animal that would feel soft if he ran over it; and + anything soft underfoot frightens a locomotive as it does an elephant. But + the men behind seemed quite calm. The wrecking-crew were climbing + carelessly from the caboose to the tender—even jesting with the + engineer, for he heard a shuffling of feet among the coal, and the snatch + of a song, something like this: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Oh, the Empire State must learn to wait, + And the Cannon-ball go hang! + When the West-bound's ditched, and the tool-car's hitched, + And it's 'way for the Breakdown Gang (Tare-ra!) + 'Way for the Breakdown Gang!” + </pre> + <p> + “Say! Eustis knew what he was doin' when he designed this rig. She's a + hummer. New, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Snff! Phew! She is new. That ain't paint, that's—” + </p> + <p> + A burning pain shot through .007's right rear driver—a crippling, + stinging pain. + </p> + <p> + “This,” said .007, as he flew, “is a hot-box. Now I know what it means. I + shall go to pieces, I guess. My first road-run, too!” + </p> + <p> + “Het a bit, ain't she?” the fireman ventured to suggest to the engineer. + </p> + <p> + “She'll hold for all we want of her. We're 'most there. Guess you chaps + back had better climb into your car,” said the engineer, his hand on the + brake lever. “I've seen men snapped off—” + </p> + <p> + But the crew fled back with laughter. They had no wish to be jerked on to + the track. The engineer half turned his wrist, and .007 found his drivers + pinned firm. + </p> + <p> + “Now it's come!” said .007, as he yelled aloud, and slid like a sleigh. + For the moment he fancied that he would jerk bodily from off his + underpinning. + </p> + <p> + “That must be the emergency-stop that Poney guyed me about,” he gasped, as + soon as he could think. “Hot-box-emergency-stop. They both hurt; but now I + can talk back in the round-house.” + </p> + <p> + He was halted, all hissing hot, a few feet in the rear of what doctors + would call a compound-comminuted car. His engineer was kneeling down among + his drivers, but he did not call.007 his “Arab steed,” nor cry over him, + as the engineers did in the newspapers. He just bad worded.007, and pulled + yards of charred cotton-waste from about the axles, and hoped he might + some day catch the idiot who had packed it. Nobody else attended to him, + for Evans, the Mogul's engineer, a little cut about the head, but very + angry, was exhibiting, by lantern-light, the mangled corpse of a slim blue + pig. + </p> + <p> + “T were n't even a decent-sized hog,” he said. “'T were a shote.” + </p> + <p> + “Dangerousest beasts they are,” said one of the crew. “Get under the pilot + an' sort o' twiddle ye off the track, don't they?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't they?” roared Evans, who was a red-headed Welshman. “You talk as if + I was ditched by a hog every fool-day o' the week. I ain't friends with + all the cussed half-fed shotes in the State o' New York. No, indeed! Yes, + this is him—an' look what he's done!” + </p> + <p> + It was not a bad night's work for one stray piglet. The Flying Freight + seemed to have flown in every direction, for the Mogul had mounted the + rails and run diagonally a few hundred feet from right to left, taking + with him such cars as cared to follow. Some did not. They broke their + couplers and lay down, while rear cars frolicked over them. In that game, + they had ploughed up and removed and twisted a good deal of the left-hand + track. The Mogul himself had waddled into a corn-field, and there he knelt—fantastic + wreaths of green twisted round his crankpins; his pilot covered with solid + clods of field, on which corn nodded drunkenly; his fire put out with dirt + (Evans had done that as soon as he recovered his senses); and his broken + headlight half full of half-burnt moths. His tender had thrown coal all + over him, and he looked like a disreputable buffalo who had tried to + wallow in a general store. For there lay scattered over the landscape, + from the burst cars, type-writers, sewing-machines, bicycles in crates, a + consignment of silver-plated imported harness, French dresses and gloves, + a dozen finely moulded hard-wood mantels, a fifteen-foot naphtha-launch, + with a solid brass bedstead crumpled around her bows, a case of telescopes + and microscopes, two coffins, a case of very best candies, some gilt-edged + dairy produce, butter and eggs in an omelette, a broken box of expensive + toys, and a few hundred other luxuries. A camp of tramps hurried up from + nowhere, and generously volunteered to help the crew. So the brakemen, + armed with coupler-pins, walked up and down on one side, and the + freight-conductor and the fireman patrolled the other with their hands in + their hip-pockets. A long-bearded man came out of a house beyond the + corn-field, and told Evans that if the accident had happened a little + later in the year, all his corn would have been burned, and accused Evans + of carelessness. Then he ran away, for Evans was at his heels shrieking: + “'T was his hog done it—his hog done it! Let me kill him! Let me + kill him!” Then the wrecking-crew laughed; and the farmer put his head out + of a window and said that Evans was no gentleman. + </p> + <p> + But .007 was very sober. He had never seen a wreck before, and it + frightened him. The crew still laughed, but they worked at the same time; + and 007 forgot horror in amazement at the way they handled the Mogul + freight. They dug round him with spades; they put ties in front of his + wheels, and jack-screws under him; they embraced him with the + derrick-chain and tickled him with crowbars; while .007 was hitched on to + wrecked cars and backed away till the knot broke or the cars rolled clear + of the track. By dawn thirty or forty men were at work, replacing and + ramming down the ties, gauging the rails and spiking them. By daylight all + cars who could move had gone on in charge of another loco; the track was + freed for traffic; and 007 had hauled the old Mogul over a small pavement + of ties, inch by inch, till his flanges bit the rail once more, and he + settled down with a clank. But his spirit was broken, and his nerve was + gone. + </p> + <p> + “'T weren't even a hog,” he repeated dolefully; “'t were a shote; and you—you + of all of 'em—had to help me on.” + </p> + <p> + “But how in the whole long road did it happen?” asked 007, sizzling with + curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “Happen! It didn't happen! It just come! I sailed right on top of him + around that last curve—thought he was a skunk. Yes; he was all as + little as that. He hadn't more 'n squealed once 'fore I felt my bogies + lift (he'd rolled right under the pilot), and I couldn't catch the track + again to save me. Swivelled clean off, I was. Then I felt him sling + himself along, all greasy, under my left leadin' driver, and, oh, Boilers! + that mounted the rail. I heard my flanges zippin' along the ties, an' the + next I knew I was playin' 'Sally, Sally Waters' in the corn, my tender + shuckin' coal through my cab, an' old man Evans lyin' still an' bleedin' + in front o' me. Shook? There ain't a stay or a bolt or a rivet in me that + ain't sprung to glory somewhere.” + </p> + <p> + “Umm!” said 007. “What d' you reckon you weigh?” + </p> + <p> + “Without these lumps o' dirt I'm all of a hundred thousand pound.” + </p> + <p> + “And the shote?” + </p> + <p> + “Eighty. Call him a hundred pound at the outside. He's worth about four + 'n' a half dollars. Ain't it awful? Ain't it enough to give you nervous + prostration? Ain't it paralysin'? Why, I come just around that curve—” + and the Mogul told the tale again, for he was very badly shaken. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's all in the day's run, I guess,” said 007, soothingly; “an'—an' + a corn-field's pretty soft fallin'.” + </p> + <p> + “If it had bin a sixty-foot bridge, an' I could ha' slid off into deep + water an' blown up an' killed both men, same as others have done, I + wouldn't ha' cared; but to be ditched by a shote—an' you to help me + out—in a corn-field—an' an old hayseed in his nightgown + cussin' me like as if I was a sick truck-horse!... Oh, it's awful! Don't + call me Mogul! I'm a sewin'-machine, they'll guy my sand-box off in the + yard.” + </p> + <p> + And 007, his hot-box cooled and his experience vastly enlarged, hauled the + Mogul freight slowly to the roundhouse. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, old man! Bin out all night, hain't ye?” said the irrepressible + Poney, who had just come off duty. “Well, I must say you look it. + Costly-perishable-fragile-immediate—that's you! Go to the shops, + take them vine-leaves out o' your hair, an' git 'em to play the hose on + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Leave him alone, Poney,” said 007 severely, as he was swung on the + turn-table, “or I'll—” + </p> + <p> + “'Didn't know the old granger was any special friend o' yours, kid. He + wasn't over-civil to you last time I saw him.” + </p> + <p> + “I know it; but I've seen a wreck since then, and it has about scared the + paint off me. I'm not going to guy anyone as long as I steam—not + when they're new to the business an' anxious to learn. And I'm not goin' + to guy the old Mogul either, though I did find him wreathed around with + roastin'-ears. 'T was a little bit of a shote—not a hog—just a + shote, Poney—no bigger'n a lump of anthracite—I saw it—that + made all the mess. Anybody can be ditched, I guess.” + </p> + <p> + “Found that out already, have you? Well, that's a good beginnin'.” It was + the Purple Emperor, with his high, tight, plate-glass cab and green velvet + cushion, waiting to be cleaned for his next day's fly. + </p> + <p> + “Let me make you two gen'lemen acquainted,” said Poney. “This is our + Purple Emperor, kid, whom you were admirin' and, I may say, envyin' last + night. This is a new brother, worshipful sir, with most of his mileage + ahead of him, but, so far as a serving-brother can, I'll answer for him.' + </p> + <p> + “'Happy to meet you,” said the Purple Emperor, with a glance round the + crowded round-house. “I guess there are enough of us here to form a full + meetin'. Ahem! By virtue of the authority vested in me as Head of the + Road, I hereby declare and pronounce No..007 a full and accepted Brother + of the Amalgamated Brotherhood of Locomotives, and as such entitled to all + shop, switch, track, tank, and round-house privileges throughout my + jurisdiction, in the Degree of Superior Flier, it bein' well known and + credibly reported to me that our Brother has covered forty-one miles in + thirty-nine minutes and a half on an errand of mercy to the afflicted. At + a convenient time, I myself will communicate to you the Song and Signal of + this Degree whereby you may be recognised in the darkest night. Take your + stall, newly entered Brother among Locomotives!” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Now, in the darkest night, even as the Purple Emperor said, if you will + stand on the bridge across the freightyard, looking down upon the + four-track way, at 2:30 A. M., neither before nor after, when the White + Moth, that takes the overflow from the Purple Emperor, tears south with + her seven vestibuled cream-white cars, you will hear, as the yard-clock + makes the half-hour, a far-away sound like the bass of a violoncello, and + then, a hundred feet to each word, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “With a michnai—ghignai—shtingal! Yah! Yah! Yah! + Ein—zwei—drei—Mutter! Yah! Yah! Yah! + She climb upon der shteeple, + Und she frighten all der people, + Singin' michnai—ghignai—shtingal! Yah! Yah!” + </pre> + <p> + That is 007 covering his one hundred and fifty-six miles in two hundred + and twenty-one minutes. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE MALTESE CAT + </h2> + <p> + They had good reason to be proud, and better reason to be afraid, all + twelve of them; for though they had fought their way, game by game, up the + teams entered for the polo tournament, they were meeting the Archangels + that afternoon in the final match; and the Archangels men were playing + with half a dozen ponies apiece. As the game was divided into six quarters + of eight minutes each, that meant a fresh pony after every halt. The + Skidars' team, even supposing there were no accidents, could only supply + one pony for every other change; and two to one is heavy odds. Again, as + Shiraz, the grey Syrian, pointed out, they were meeting the pink and pick + of the polo-ponies of Upper India, ponies that had cost from a thousand + rupees each, while they themselves were a cheap lot gathered, often from + country-carts, by their masters, who belonged to a poor but honest native + infantry regiment. + </p> + <p> + “Money means pace and weight,” said Shiraz, rubbing his black-silk nose + dolefully along his neat-fitting boot, “and by the maxims of the game as I + know it—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, but we aren't playing the maxims,” said The Maltese Cat. “We're + playing the game; and we've the great advantage of knowing the game. Just + think a stride, Shiraz! We've pulled up from bottom to second place in two + weeks against all those fellows on the ground here. That's because we play + with our heads as well as our feet.” + </p> + <p> + “It makes me feel undersized and unhappy all the same,” said Kittiwynk, a + mouse-coloured mare with a red brow-band and the cleanest pair of legs + that ever an aged pony owned. “They've twice our style, these others.” + </p> + <p> + Kittiwynk looked at the gathering and sighed. The hard, dusty polo-ground + was lined with thousands of soldiers, black and white, not counting + hundreds and hundreds of carriages and drags and dogcarts, and ladies with + brilliant-coloured parasols, and officers in uniform and out of it, and + crowds of natives behind them; and orderlies on camels, who had halted to + watch the game, instead of carrying letters up and down the station; and + native horse-dealers running about on thin-eared Biluchi mares, looking + for a chance to sell a few first-class polo-ponies. Then there were the + ponies of thirty teams that had entered for the Upper India Free-for-All + Cup—nearly every pony of worth and dignity, from Mhow to Peshawar, + from Allahabad to Multan; prize ponies, Arabs, Syrian, Barb, country-bred, + Deccanee, Waziri, and Kabul ponies of every colour and shape and temper + that you could imagine. Some of them were in mat-roofed stables, close to + the polo-ground, but most were under saddle, while their masters, who had + been defeated in the earlier games, trotted in and out and told the world + exactly how the game should be played. + </p> + <p> + It was a glorious sight, and the come and go of the little, quick hooves, + and the incessant salutations of ponies that had met before on other + polo-grounds or race-courses were enough to drive a four-footed thing + wild. + </p> + <p> + But the Skidars' team were careful not to know their neighbours, though + half the ponies on the ground were anxious to scrape acquaintance with the + little fellows that had come from the North, and, so far, had swept the + board. + </p> + <p> + “Let's see,” said a soft gold-coloured Arab, who had been playing very + badly the day before, to The Maltese Cat; “didn't we meet in Abdul + Rahman's stable in Bombay, four seasons ago? I won the Paikpattan Cup next + season, you may remember?” + </p> + <p> + “Not me,” said The Maltese Cat, politely. “I was at Malta then, pulling a + vegetable-cart. I don't race. I play the game.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said the Arab, cocking his tail and swaggering off. + </p> + <p> + “Keep yourselves to yourselves,” said The Maltese Cat to his companions. + “We don't want to rub noses with all those goose-rumped half-breeds of + Upper India. When we've won this Cup they'll give their shoes to know us.” + </p> + <p> + “We sha'n't win the Cup,” said Shiraz. “How do you feel?” + </p> + <p> + “Stale as last night's feed when a muskrat has run over it,” said Polaris, + a rather heavy-shouldered grey; and the rest of the team agreed with him. + </p> + <p> + “The sooner you forget that the better,” said The Maltese Cat, cheerfully. + “They've finished tiffin in the big tent. We shall be wanted now. If your + saddles are not comfy, kick. If your bits aren't easy, rear, and let the + saises know whether your boots are tight.” + </p> + <p> + Each pony had his sais, his groom, who lived and ate and slept with the + animal, and had betted a good deal more than he could afford on the result + of the game. There was no chance of anything going wrong, but to make + sure, each sais was shampooing the legs of his pony to the last minute. + Behind the saises sat as many of the Skidars' regiment as had leave to + attend the match—about half the native officers, and a hundred or + two dark, black-bearded men with the regimental pipers nervously fingering + the big, beribboned bagpipes. The Skidars were what they call a Pioneer + regiment, and the bagpipes made the national music of half their men. The + native officers held bundles of polo-sticks, long cane-handled mallets, + and as the grand stand filled after lunch they arranged themselves by ones + and twos at different points round the ground, so that if a stick were + broken the player would not have far to ride for a new one. An impatient + British Cavalry Band struck up “If you want to know the time, ask a + p'leeceman!” and the two umpires in light dust-coats danced out on two + little excited ponies. The four players of the Archangels' team followed, + and the sight of their beautiful mounts made Shiraz groan again. + </p> + <p> + “Wait till we know,” said The Maltese Cat. “Two of 'em are playing in + blinkers, and that means they can't see to get out of the way of their own + side, or they may shy at the umpires' ponies. They've all got white + web-reins that are sure to stretch or slip!” + </p> + <p> + “And,” said Kittiwynk, dancing to take the stiffness out of her, “they + carry their whips in their hands instead of on their wrists. Hah!” + </p> + <p> + “True enough. No man can manage his stick and his reins and his whip that + way,” said The Maltese Cat. “I've fallen over every square yard of the + Malta ground, and I ought to know.” + </p> + <p> + He quivered his little, flea-bitten withers just to show how satisfied he + felt; but his heart was not so light. Ever since he had drifted into India + on a troop-ship, taken, with an old rifle, as part payment for a racing + debt, The Maltese Cat had played and preached polo to the Skidars' team on + the Skidars' stony pologround. Now a polo-pony is like a poet. If he is + born with a love for the game, he can be made. The Maltese Cat knew that + bamboos grew solely in order that poloballs might be turned from their + roots, that grain was given to ponies to keep them in hard condition, and + that ponies were shod to prevent them slipping on a turn. But, besides all + these things, he knew every trick and device of the finest game in the + world, and for two seasons had been teaching the others all he knew or + guessed. + </p> + <p> + “Remember,” he said for the hundredth time, as the riders came up, “you + must play together, and you must play with your heads. Whatever happens, + follow the ball. Who goes out first?” + </p> + <p> + Kittiwynk, Shiraz, Polaris, and a short high little bay fellow with + tremendous hocks and no withers worth speaking of (he was called Corks) + were being girthed up, and the soldiers in the background stared with all + their eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I want you men to keep quiet,” said Lutyens, the captain of the team, + “and especially not to blow your pipes.” + </p> + <p> + “Not if we win, Captain Sahib?” asked the piper. + </p> + <p> + “If we win you can do what you please,” said Lutyens, with a smile, as he + slipped the loop of his stick over his wrist, and wheeled to canter to his + place. The Archangels' ponies were a little bit above themselves on + account of the many-coloured crowd so close to the ground. Their riders + were excellent players, but they were a team of crack players instead of a + crack team; and that made all the difference in the world. They honestly + meant to play together, but it is very hard for four men, each the best of + the team he is picked from, to remember that in polo no brilliancy in + hitting or riding makes up for playing alone. Their captain shouted his + orders to them by name, and it is a curious thing that if you call his + name aloud in public after an Englishman you make him hot and fretty. + Lutyens said nothing to his men, because it had all been said before. He + pulled up Shiraz, for he was playing “back,” to guard the goal. Powell on + Polaris was half-back, and Macnamara and Hughes on Corks and Kittiwynk + were forwards. The tough, bamboo ball was set in the middle of the ground, + one hundred and fifty yards from the ends, and Hughes crossed sticks, + heads up, with the Captain of the Archangels, who saw fit to play forward; + that is a place from which you cannot easily control your team. The little + click as the cane-shafts met was heard all over the ground, and then + Hughes made some sort of quick wrist-stroke that just dribbled the ball a + few yards. Kittiwynk knew that stroke of old, and followed as a cat + follows a mouse. While the Captain of the Archangels was wrenching his + pony round, Hughes struck with all his strength, and next instant + Kittiwynk was away, Corks following close behind her, their little feet + pattering like raindrops on glass. + </p> + <p> + “Pull out to the left,” said Kittiwynk between her teeth; “it's coming + your way, Corks!” + </p> + <p> + The back and half-back of the Archangels were tearing down on her just as + she was within reach of the ball. Hughes leaned forward with a loose rein, + and cut it away to the left almost under Kittiwynk's foot, and it hopped + and skipped off to Corks, who saw that, if he was not quick it would run + beyond the boundaries. That long bouncing drive gave the Archangels time + to wheel and send three men across the ground to head off Corks. Kittiwynk + stayed where she was; for she knew the game. Corks was on the ball half a + fraction of a second before the others came up, and Macnamara, with a + backhanded stroke, sent it back across the ground to Hughes, who saw the + way clear to the Archangels' goal, and smacked the ball in before any one + quite knew what had happened. + </p> + <p> + “That's luck,” said Corks, as they changed ends. “A goal in three minutes + for three hits, and no riding to speak of.” + </p> + <p> + “'Don't know,” said Polaris. “We've made 'em angry too soon. Shouldn't + wonder if they tried to rush us off our feet next time.” + </p> + <p> + “Keep the ball hanging, then,” said Shiraz. “That wears out every pony + that is not used to it.” + </p> + <p> + Next time there was no easy galloping across the ground. All the + Archangels closed up as one man, but there they stayed, for Corks, + Kittiwynk, and Polaris were somewhere on the top of the ball, marking time + among the rattling sticks, while Shiraz circled about outside, waiting for + a chance. + </p> + <p> + “We can do this all day,” said Polaris, ramming his quarters into the side + of another pony. “Where do you think you're shoving to?” + </p> + <p> + “I'll—I'll be driven in an ekka if I know,” was the gasping reply, + “and I'd give a week's feed to get my blinkers off. I can't see anything.” + </p> + <p> + “The dust is rather bad. Whew! That was one for my off-hock. Where's the + ball, Corks?” + </p> + <p> + “Under my tail. At least, the man's looking for it there! This is + beautiful. They can't use their sticks, and it's driving 'em wild. Give + old Blinkers a push and then he'll go over.” + </p> + <p> + “Here, don't touch me! I can't see. I'll—I'll back out, I think,” + said the pony in blinkers, who knew that if you can't see all round your + head, you cannot prop yourself against the shock. + </p> + <p> + Corks was watching the ball where it lay in the dust, close to his near + fore-leg, with Macnamara's shortened stick tap-tapping it from time to + time. Kittiwynk was edging her way out of the scrimmage, whisking her + stump of a tail with nervous excitement. + </p> + <p> + “Ho! They've got it,” she snorted. “Let me out!” and she galloped like a + rifle-bullet just behind a tall lanky pony of the Archangels, whose rider + was swinging up his stick for a stroke. + </p> + <p> + “Not to-day, thank you,” said Hughes, as the blow slid off his raised + stick, and Kittiwynk laid her shoulder to the tall pony's quarters, and + shoved him aside just as Lutyens on Shiraz sent the ball where it had come + from, and the tall pony went skating and slipping away to the left. + Kittiwynk, seeing that Polaris had joined Corks in the chase for the ball + up the ground, dropped into Polaris' place, and then “time” was called. + </p> + <p> + The Skidars' ponies wasted no time in kicking or fuming. They knew that + each minute's rest meant so much gain, and trotted off to the rails, and + their saises began to scrape and blanket and rub them at once. + </p> + <p> + “Whew!” said Corks, stiffening up to get all the tickle of the big + vulcanite scraper. “If we were playing pony for pony, we would bend those + Archangels double in half an hour. But they'll bring up fresh ones and + fresh ones and fresh ones after that—you see.” + </p> + <p> + “Who cares?” said Polaris. “We've drawn first blood. Is my hock swelling?” + </p> + <p> + “Looks puffy,” said Corks. “You must have had rather a wipe. Don't let it + stiffen. You 'll be wanted again in half an hour.” + </p> + <p> + “What's the game like?” said The Maltese Cat. + </p> + <p> + “Ground's like your shoe, except where they put too much water on it,” + said Kittiwynk. “Then it's slippery. Don't play in the centre. There's a + bog there. I don't know how their next four are going to behave, but we + kept the ball hanging, and made 'em lather for nothing. Who goes out? Two + Arabs and a couple of country-breds! That's bad. What a comfort it is to + wash your mouth out!” + </p> + <p> + Kitty was talking with a neck of a lather-covered soda-water bottle + between her teeth, and trying to look over her withers at the same time. + This gave her a very coquettish air. + </p> + <p> + “What's bad?” said Grey Dawn, giving to the girth and admiring his + well-set shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “You Arabs can't gallop fast enough to keep yourselves warm—that's + what Kitty means,” said Polaris, limping to show that his hock needed + attention. “Are you playing back, Grey Dawn?” + </p> + <p> + “'Looks like it,” said Grey Dawn, as Lutyens swung himself up. Powell + mounted The Rabbit, a plain bay country-bred much like Corks, but with + mulish ears. Macnamara took Faiz-Ullah, a handy, short-backed little red + Arab with a long tail, and Hughes mounted Benami, an old and sullen brown + beast, who stood over in front more than a polo-pony should. + </p> + <p> + “Benami looks like business,” said Shiraz. “How's your temper, Ben?” The + old campaigner hobbled off without answering, and The Maltese Cat looked + at the new Archangel ponies prancing about on the ground. They were four + beautiful blacks, and they saddled big enough and strong enough to eat the + Skidars' team and gallop away with the meal inside them. + </p> + <p> + “Blinkers again,” said The Maltese Cat. “Good enough!” + </p> + <p> + “They're chargers-cavalry chargers!” said Kittiwynk, indignantly. “They'll + never see thirteen-three again.” + </p> + <p> + “They've all been fairly measured, and they've all got their + certificates,” said The Maltese Cat, “or they wouldn't be here. We must + take things as they come along, and keep your eyes on the ball.” + </p> + <p> + The game began, but this time the Skidars were penned to their own end of + the ground, and the watching ponies did not approve of that. + </p> + <p> + “Faiz-Ullah is shirking—as usual,” said Polaris, with a scornful + grunt. + </p> + <p> + “Faiz-Ullah is eating whip,” said Corks. They could hear the + leather-thonged polo-quirt lacing the little fellow's well-rounded barrel. + Then The Rabbit's shrill neigh came across the ground. + </p> + <p> + “I can't do all the work,” he cried, desperately. + </p> + <p> + “Play the game—don't talk,” The Maltese Cat whickered; and all the + ponies wriggled with excitement, and the soldiers and the grooms gripped + the railings and shouted. A black pony with blinkers had singled out old + Benami, and was interfering with him in every possible way. They could see + Benami shaking his head up and down, and flapping his under lip. + </p> + <p> + “There'll be a fall in a minute,” said Polaris. “Benami is getting + stuffy.” + </p> + <p> + The game flickered up and down between goal-post and goal-post, and the + black ponies were getting more confident as they felt they had the legs of + the others. The ball was hit out of a little scrimmage, and Benami and The + Rabbit followed it, Faiz-Ullah only too glad to be quiet for an instant. + </p> + <p> + The blinkered black pony came up like a hawk, with two of his own side + behind him, and Benami's eye glittered as he raced. The question was which + pony should make way for the other, for each rider was perfectly willing + to risk a fall in a good cause. The black, who had been driven nearly + crazy by his blinkers, trusted to his weight and his temper; but Benami + knew how to apply his weight and how to keep his temper. They met, and + there was a cloud of dust. The black was lying on his side, all the breath + knocked out of his body. The Rabbit was a hundred yards up the ground with + the ball, and Benami was sitting down. He had slid nearly ten yards on his + tail, but he had had his revenge, and sat cracking his nostrils till the + black pony rose. + </p> + <p> + “That's what you get for interfering. Do you want any more?” said Benami, + and he plunged into the game. Nothing was done that quarter, because + Faiz-Ullah would not gallop, though Macnamara beat him whenever he could + spare a second. The fall of the black pony had impressed his companions + tremendously, and so the Archangels could not profit by Faiz-Ullah's bad + behaviour. + </p> + <p> + But as The Maltese Cat said when “time” was called, and the four came back + blowing and dripping, Faiz-Ullah ought to have been kicked all round + Umballa. If he did not behave better next time The Maltese Cat promised to + pull out his Arab tail by the roots and—eat it. + </p> + <p> + There was no time to talk, for the third four were ordered out. + </p> + <p> + The third quarter of a game is generally the hottest, for each side thinks + that the others must be pumped; and most of the winning play in a game is + made about that time. + </p> + <p> + Lutyens took over The Maltese Cat with a pat and a hug, for Lutyens valued + him more than anything else in the world; Powell had Shikast, a little + grey rat with no pedigree and no manners outside polo; Macnamara mounted + Bamboo, the largest of the team; and Hughes Who's Who, alias The Animal. + He was supposed to have Australian blood in his veins, but he looked like + a clothes-horse, and you could whack his legs with an iron crow-bar + without hurting him. + </p> + <p> + They went out to meet the very flower of the Archangels' team; and when + Who's Who saw their elegantly booted legs and their beautiful satin skins, + he grinned a grin through his light, well-worn bridle. + </p> + <p> + “My word!” said Who's Who. “We must give 'em a little football. These + gentlemen need a rubbing down.” + </p> + <p> + “No biting,” said The Maltese Cat, warningly; for once or twice in his + career Who's Who had been known to forget himself in that way. + </p> + <p> + “Who said anything about biting? I'm not playing tiddly-winks. I'm playing + the game.” + </p> + <p> + The Archangels came down like a wolf on the fold, for they were tired of + football, and they wanted polo. They got it more and more. Just after the + game began, Lutyens hit a ball that was coming towards him rapidly, and it + rolled in the air, as a ball sometimes will, with the whirl of a + frightened partridge. Shikast heard, but could not see it for the minute, + though he looked everywhere and up into the air as The Maltese Cat had + taught him. When he saw it ahead and overhead he went forward with Powell + as fast as he could put foot to ground. It was then that Powell, a quiet + and level-headed man, as a rule, became inspired, and played a stroke that + sometimes comes off successfully after long practice. He took his stick in + both hands, and, standing up in his stirrups, swiped at the ball in the + air, Munipore fashion. There was one second of paralysed astonishment, and + then all four sides of the ground went up in a yell of applause and + delight as the ball flew true (you could see the amazed Archangels ducking + in their saddles to dodge the line of flight, and looking at it with open + mouths), and the regimental pipes of the Skidars squealed from the + railings as long as the pipers had breath. Shikast heard the stroke; but + he heard the head of the stick fly off at the same time. Nine hundred and + ninety-nine ponies out of a thousand would have gone tearing on after the + ball with a useless player pulling at their heads; but Powell knew him, + and he knew Powell; and the instant he felt Powell's right leg shift a + trifle on the saddle-flap, he headed to the boundary, where a native + officer was frantically waving a new stick. Before the shouts had ended, + Powell was armed again. + </p> + <p> + Once before in his life The Maltese Cat had heard that very same stroke + played off his own back, and had profited by the confusion it wrought. + This time he acted on experience, and leaving Bamboo to guard the goal in + case of accidents, came through the others like a flash, head and tail low—Lutyens + standing up to ease him—swept on and on before the other side knew + what was the matter, and nearly pitched on his head between the + Archangels' goal-post as Lutyens kicked the ball in after a straight + scurry of a hundred and fifty yards. If there was one thing more than + another upon which The Maltese Cat prided himself, it was on this quick, + streaking kind of run half across the ground. He did not believe in taking + balls round the field unless you were clearly overmatched. After this they + gave the Archangels five-minuted football; and an expensive fast pony + hates football because it rumples his temper. Who's Who showed himself + even better than Polaris in this game. He did not permit any wriggling + away, but bored joyfully into the scrimmage as if he had his nose in a + feed-box and was looking for something nice. Little Shikast jumped on the + ball the minute it got clear, and every time an Archangel pony followed + it, he found Shikast standing over it, asking what was the matter. + </p> + <p> + “If we can live through this quarter,” said The Maltese Cat, “I sha'n't + care. Don't take it out of yourselves. Let them do the lathering.” + </p> + <p> + So the ponies, as their riders explained afterwards, “shut-up.” The + Archangels kept them tied fast in front of their goal, but it cost the + Archangels' ponies all that was left of their tempers; and ponies began to + kick, and men began to repeat compliments, and they chopped at the legs of + Who's Who, and he set his teeth and stayed where he was, and the dust + stood up like a tree over the scrimmage until that hot quarter ended. + </p> + <p> + They found the ponies very excited and confident when they went to their + saises; and The Maltese Cat had to warn them that the worst of the game + was coming. + </p> + <p> + “Now we are all going in for the second time,” said he, “and they are + trotting out fresh ponies. You think you can gallop, but you'll find you + can't; and then you'll be sorry.” + </p> + <p> + “But two goals to nothing is a halter-long lead,” said Kittiwynk, + prancing. + </p> + <p> + “How long does it take to get a goal?” The Maltese Cat answered. “For + pity's sake, don't run away with a notion that the game is half-won just + because we happen to be in luck now! They'll ride you into the grand + stand, if they can; you must not give 'em a chance. Follow the ball.” + </p> + <p> + “Football, as usual?” said Polaris. “My hock's half as big as a nose-bag.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't let them have a look at the ball, if you can help it. Now leave me + alone. I must get all the rest I can before the last quarter.” + </p> + <p> + He hung down his head and let all his muscles go slack, Shikast, Bamboo, + and Who's Who copying his example. + </p> + <p> + “Better not watch the game,” he said. “We aren't playing, and we shall + only take it out of ourselves if we grow anxious. Look at the ground and + pretend it's fly-time.” + </p> + <p> + They did their best, but it was hard advice to follow. The hooves were + drumming and the sticks were rattling all up and down the ground, and + yells of applause from the English troops told that the Archangels were + pressing the Skidars hard. The native soldiers behind the ponies groaned + and grunted, and said things in undertones, and presently they heard a + long-drawn shout and a clatter of hurrahs! + </p> + <p> + “One to the Archangels,” said Shikast, without raising his head. “Time's + nearly up. Oh, my sire and dam!” + </p> + <p> + “Faiz-Ullah,” said The Maltese Cat, “if you don't play to the last nail in + your shoes this time, I'll kick you on the ground before all the other + ponies.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll do my best when my time comes,” said the little Arab, sturdily. + </p> + <p> + The saises looked at each other gravely as they rubbed their ponies' legs. + This was the time when long purses began to tell, and everybody knew it. + Kittiwynk and the others came back, the sweat dripping over their hooves + and their tails telling sad stories. + </p> + <p> + “They're better than we are,” said Shiraz. “I knew how it would be.” + </p> + <p> + “Shut your big head,” said The Maltese Cat; “we've one goal to the good + yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but it's two Arabs and two country-breds to play now,” said Corks. + “Faiz-Ullah, remember!” He spoke in a biting voice. + </p> + <p> + As Lutyens mounted Grey Dawn he looked at his men, and they did not look + pretty. They were covered with dust and sweat in streaks. Their yellow + boots were almost black, their wrists were red and lumpy, and their eyes + seemed two inches deep in their heads; but the expression in the eyes was + satisfactory. + </p> + <p> + “Did you take anything at tiffin?” said Lutyens; and the team shook their + heads. They were too dry to talk. + </p> + <p> + “All right. The Archangels did. They are worse pumped than we are.” + </p> + <p> + “They've got the better ponies,” said Powell. “I sha'n't be sorry when + this business is over.” + </p> + <p> + That fifth quarter was a painful one in every way. Faiz-Ullah played like + a little red demon, and The Rabbit seemed to be everywhere at once, and + Benami rode straight at anything and everything that came in his way; + while the umpires on their ponies wheeled like gulls outside the shifting + game. But the Archangels had the better mounts,—they had kept their + racers till late in the game,—and never allowed the Skidars to play + football. They hit the ball up and down the width of the ground till + Benami and the rest were outpaced. Then they went forward, and time and + again Lutyens and Grey Dawn were just, and only just, able to send the + ball away with a long, spitting backhander. Grey Dawn forgot that he was + an Arab; and turned from grey to blue as he galloped. Indeed, he forgot + too well, for he did not keep his eyes on the ground as an Arab should, + but stuck out his nose and scuttled for the dear honour of the game. They + had watered the ground once or twice between the quarters, and a careless + waterman had emptied the last of his skinful all in one place near the + Skidars' goal. It was close to the end of the play, and for the tenth time + Grey Dawn was bolting after the ball, when his near hind-foot slipped on + the greasy mud, and he rolled over and over, pitching Lutyens just clear + of the goal-post; and the triumphant Archangels made their goal. Then + “time” was called-two goals all; but Lutyens had to be helped up, and Grey + Dawn rose with his near hind-leg strained somewhere. + </p> + <p> + “What's the damage?” said Powell, his arm around Lutyens. + </p> + <p> + “Collar-bone, of course,” said Lutyens, between his teeth. It was the + third time he had broken it in two years, and it hurt him. + </p> + <p> + Powell and the others whistled. + </p> + <p> + “Game's up,” said Hughes. + </p> + <p> + “Hold on. We've five good minutes yet, and it isn't my right hand. We 'll + stick it out.” + </p> + <p> + “I say,” said the Captain of the Archangels, trotting up, “are you hurt, + Lutyens? We'll wait if you care to put in a substitute. I wish—I + mean—the fact is, you fellows deserve this game if any team does. + 'Wish we could give you a man, or some of our ponies—or something.” + </p> + <p> + “You 're awfully good, but we'll play it to a finish, I think.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain of the Archangels stared for a little. “That's not half bad,” + he said, and went back to his own side, while Lutyens borrowed a scarf + from one of his native officers and made a sling of it. Then an Archangel + galloped up with a big bath-sponge, and advised Lutyens to put it under + his armpit to ease his shoulder, and between them they tied up his left + arm scientifically; and one of the native officers leaped forward with + four long glasses that fizzed and bubbled. + </p> + <p> + The team looked at Lutyens piteously, and he nodded. It was the last + quarter, and nothing would matter after that. They drank out the dark + golden drink, and wiped their moustaches, and things looked more hopeful. + </p> + <p> + The Maltese Cat had put his nose into the front of Lutyens' shirt and was + trying to say how sorry he was. + </p> + <p> + “He knows,” said Lutyens, proudly. “The beggar knows. I've played him + without a bridle before now—for fun.” + </p> + <p> + “It's no fun now,” said Powell. “But we haven't a decent substitute.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Lutyens. “It's the last quarter, and we've got to make our goal + and win. I'll trust The Cat.” + </p> + <p> + “If you fall this time, you'll suffer a little,” said Macnamara. + </p> + <p> + “I'll trust The Cat,” said Lutyens. + </p> + <p> + “You hear that?” said The Maltese Cat, proudly, to the others. “It's worth + while playing polo for ten years to have that said of you. Now then, my + sons, come along. We'll kick up a little bit, just to show the Archangels + this team haven't suffered.” + </p> + <p> + And, sure enough, as they went on to the ground, The Maltese Cat, after + satisfying himself that Lutyens was home in the saddle, kicked out three + or four times, and Lutyens laughed. The reins were caught up anyhow in the + tips of his strapped left hand, and he never pretended to rely on them. He + knew The Cat would answer to the least pressure of the leg, and by way of + showing off—for his shoulder hurt him very much—he bent the + little fellow in a close figure-of-eight in and out between the + goal-posts. There was a roar from the native officers and men, who dearly + loved a piece of dugabashi (horse-trick work), as they called it, and the + pipes very quietly and scornfully droned out the first bars of a common + bazaar tune called “Freshly Fresh and Newly New,” just as a warning to the + other regiments that the Skidars were fit. All the natives laughed. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” said The Maltese Cat, as they took their place, “remember that + this is the last quarter, and follow the ball!” + </p> + <p> + “Don't need to be told,” said Who's Who. + </p> + <p> + “Let me go on. All those people on all four sides will begin to crowd in—just + as they did at Malta. You'll hear people calling out, and moving forward + and being pushed back; and that is going to make the Archangel ponies very + unhappy. But if a ball is struck to the boundary, you go after it, and let + the people get out of your way. I went over the pole of a four-in-hand + once, and picked a game out of the dust by it. Back me up when I run, and + follow the ball.” + </p> + <p> + There was a sort of an all-round sound of sympathy and wonder as the last + quarter opened, and then there began exactly what The Maltese Cat had + foreseen. People crowded in close to the boundaries, and the Archangels' + ponies kept looking sideways at the narrowing space. If you know how a man + feels to be cramped at tennis—not because he wants to run out of the + court, but because he likes to know that he can at a pinch—you will + guess how ponies must feel when they are playing in a box of human beings. + </p> + <p> + “I'll bend some of those men if I can get away,” said Who's Who, as he + rocketed behind the ball; and Bamboo nodded without speaking. They were + playing the last ounce in them, and The Maltese Cat had left the goal + undefended to join them. Lutyens gave him every order that he could to + bring him back, but this was the first time in his career that the little + wise grey had ever played polo on his own responsibility, and he was going + to make the most of it. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing here?” said Hughes, as The Cat crossed in front of him + and rode off an Archangel. + </p> + <p> + “The Cat's in charge—mind the goal!” shouted Lutyens, and bowing + forward hit the ball full, and followed on, forcing the Archangels towards + their own goal. + </p> + <p> + “No football,” said The Maltese Cat. “Keep the ball by the boundaries and + cramp 'em. Play open order, and drive 'em to the boundaries.” + </p> + <p> + Across and across the ground in big diagonals flew the ball, and whenever + it came to a flying rush and a stroke close to the boundaries the + Archangel ponies moved stiffly. They did not care to go headlong at a wall + of men and carriages, though if the ground had been open they could have + turned on a sixpence. + </p> + <p> + “Wriggle her up the sides,” said The Cat. “Keep her close to the crowd. + They hate the carriages. Shikast, keep her up this side.” + </p> + <p> + Shikast and Powell lay left and right behind the uneasy scuffle of an open + scrimmage, and every time the ball was hit away Shikast galloped on it at + such an angle that Powell was forced to hit it towards the boundary; and + when the crowd had been driven away from that side, Lutyens would send the + ball over to the other, and Shikast would slide desperately after it till + his friends came down to help. It was billiards, and no football, this + time—billiards in a corner pocket; and the cues were not well + chalked. + </p> + <p> + “If they get us out in the middle of the ground they'll walk away from us. + Dribble her along the sides,” cried The Maltese Cat. + </p> + <p> + So they dribbled all along the boundary, where a pony could not come on + their right-hand side; and the Archangels were furious, and the umpires + had to neglect the game to shout at the people to get back, and several + blundering mounted policemen tried to restore order, all close to the + scrimmage, and the nerves of the Archangels' ponies stretched and broke + like cob-webs. + </p> + <p> + Five or six times an Archangel hit the ball up into the middle of the + ground, and each time the watchful Shikast gave Powell his chance to send + it back, and after each return, when the dust had settled, men could see + that the Skidars had gained a few yards. + </p> + <p> + Every now and again there were shouts of “Side! Off side!” from the + spectators; but the teams were too busy to care, and the umpires had all + they could do to keep their maddened ponies clear of the scuffle. + </p> + <p> + At last Lutyens missed a short easy stroke, and the Skidars had to fly + back helter-skelter to protect their own goal, Shikast leading. Powell + stopped the ball with a backhander when it was not fifty yards from the + goalposts, and Shikast spun round with a wrench that nearly hoisted Powell + out of his saddle. + </p> + <p> + “Now's our last chance,” said The Cat, wheeling like a cockchafer on a + pin. “We've got to ride it out. Come along.” + </p> + <p> + Lutyens felt the little chap take a deep breath, and, as it were, crouch + under his rider. The ball was hopping towards the right-hand boundary, an + Archangel riding for it with both spurs and a whip; but neither spur nor + whip would make his pony stretch himself as he neared the crowd. The + Maltese Cat glided under his very nose, picking up his hind legs sharp, + for there was not a foot to spare between his quarters and the other + pony's bit. It was as neat an exhibition as fancy figure-skating. Lutyens + hit with all the strength he had left, but the stick slipped a little in + his hand, and the ball flew off to the left instead of keeping close to + the boundary. Who's Who was far across the ground, thinking hard as he + galloped. He repeated stride for stride The Cat's manoeuvres with another + Archangel pony, nipping the ball away from under his bridle, and clearing + his opponent by half a fraction of an inch, for Who's Who was clumsy + behind. Then he drove away towards the right as The Maltese Cat came up + from the left; and Bamboo held a middle course exactly between them. The + three were making a sort of Government-broad-arrow-shaped attack; and + there was only the Archangels' back to guard the goal; but immediately + behind them were three Archangels racing all they knew, and mixed up with + them was Powell sending Shikast along on what he felt was their last hope. + It takes a very good man to stand up to the rush of seven crazy ponies in + the last quarters of a Cup game, when men are riding with their necks for + sale, and the ponies are delirious. The Archangels' back missed his stroke + and pulled aside just in time to let the rush go by. Bamboo and Who's Who + shortened stride to give The Cat room, and Lutyens got the goal with a + clean, smooth, smacking stroke that was heard all over the field. But + there was no stopping the ponies. They poured through the goalposts in one + mixed mob, winners and losers together, for the pace had been terrific. + The Maltese Cat knew by experience what would happen, and, to save + Lutyens, turned to the right with one last effort, that strained a + back-sinew beyond hope of repair. As he did so he heard the right-hand + goalpost crack as a pony cannoned into it—crack, splinter and fall + like a mast. It had been sawed three parts through in case of accidents, + but it upset the pony nevertheless, and he blundered into another, who + blundered into the left-hand post, and then there was confusion and dust + and wood. Bamboo was lying on the ground, seeing stars; an Archangel pony + rolled beside him, breathless and angry; Shikast had sat down dog-fashion + to avoid falling over the others, and was sliding along on his little + bobtail in a cloud of dust; and Powell was sitting on the ground, + hammering with his stick and trying to cheer. All the others were shouting + at the top of what was left of their voices, and the men who had been + spilt were shouting too. As soon as the people saw no one was hurt, ten + thousand native and English shouted and clapped and yelled, and before any + one could stop them the pipers of the Skidars broke on to the ground, with + all the native officers and men behind them, and marched up and down, + playing a wild Northern tune called “Zakhme Began,” and through the + insolent blaring of the pipes and the high-pitched native yells you could + hear the Archangels' band hammering, “For they are all jolly good + fellows,” and then reproachfully to the losing team, “Ooh, Kafoozalum! + Kafoozalum! Kafoozalum!” + </p> + <p> + Besides all these things and many more, there was a Commander-in-chief, + and an Inspector-General of Cavalry, and the principal veterinary officer + of all India standing on the top of a regimental coach, yelling like + school-boys; and brigadiers and colonels and commissioners, and hundreds + of pretty ladies joined the chorus. But The Maltese Cat stood with his + head down, wondering how many legs were left to him; and Lutyens watched + the men and ponies pick themselves out of the wreck of the two goal-posts, + and he patted The Maltese Cat very tenderly. + </p> + <p> + “I say,” said the Captain of the Archangels, spitting a pebble out of his + mouth, “will you take three thousand for that pony—as he stands?” + </p> + <p> + “No thank you. I've an idea he's saved my life,” said Lutyens, getting off + and lying down at full length. Both teams were on the ground too, waving + their boots in the air, and coughing and drawing deep breaths, as the + saises ran up to take away the ponies, and an officious water-carrier + sprinkled the players with dirty water till they sat up. + </p> + <p> + “My aunt!” said Powell, rubbing his back, and looking at the stumps of the + goal-posts, “That was a game!” + </p> + <p> + They played it over again, every stroke of it, that night at the big + dinner, when the Free-for-All Cup was filled and passed down the table, + and emptied and filled again, and everybody made most eloquent speeches. + About two in the morning, when there might have been some singing, a wise + little, plain little, grey little head looked in through the open door. + </p> + <p> + “Hurrah! Bring him in,” said the Archangels; and his sais, who was very + happy indeed, patted The Maltese Cat on the flank, and he limped in to the + blaze of light and the glittering uniforms, looking for Lutyens. He was + used to messes, and men's bedrooms, and places where ponies are not + usually encouraged, and in his youth had jumped on and off a mess-table + for a bet. So he behaved himself very politely, and ate bread dipped in + salt, and was petted all round the table, moving gingerly; and they drank + his health, because he had done more to win the Cup than any man or horse + on the ground. + </p> + <p> + That was glory and honour enough for the rest of his days, and The Maltese + Cat did not complain much when the veterinary surgeon said that he would + be no good for polo any more. When Lutyens married, his wife did not allow + him to play, so he was forced to be an umpire; and his pony on these + occasions was a flea-bitten grey with a neat polo-tail, lame all round, + but desperately quick on his feet, and, as everybody knew, Past Pluperfect + Prestissimo Player of the Game. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + “BREAD UPON THE WATERS” + </h2> + <p> + If you remember my improper friend Brugglesmith, you will also bear in + mind his friend McPhee, Chief Engineer of the Breslau, whose dingey + Brugglesmith tried to steal. His apologies for the performances of + Brugglesmith may one day be told in their proper place: the tale before us + concerns McPhee. He was never a racing engineer, and took special pride in + saying as much before the Liverpool men; but he had a thirty-two years' + knowledge of machinery and the humours of ships. One side of his face had + been wrecked through the bursting of a pressure-gauge in the days when men + knew less than they do now, and his nose rose grandly out of the wreck, + like a club in a public riot. There were cuts and lumps on his head, and + he would guide your forefinger through his short iron-grey hair and tell + you how he had come by his trade-marks. He owned all sorts of certificates + of extra-competency, and at the bottom of his cabin chest of drawers, + where he kept the photograph of his wife, were two or three Royal Humane + Society medals for saving lives at sea. Professionally—it was + different when crazy steerage-passengers jumped overboard—professionally, + McPhee does not approve of saving life at sea, and he has often told me + that a new Hell awaits stokers and trimmers who sign for a strong man's + pay and fall sick the second day out. He believes in throwing boots at + fourth and fifth engineers when they wake him up at night with word that a + bearing is redhot, all because a lamp's glare is reflected red from the + twirling metal. He believes that there are only two poets in the world; + one being Robert Burns, of course, and the other Gerald Massey. When he + has time for novels he reads Wilkie Collins and Charles Reade chiefly the + latter—and knows whole pages of “Very Hard Cash” by heart. In the + saloon his table is next to the captain's, and he drinks only water while + his engines work. + </p> + <p> + He was good to me when we first met, because I did not ask questions, and + believed in Charles Reade as a most shamefully neglected author. Later he + approved of my writings to the extent of one pamphlet of twenty-four pages + that I wrote for Holdock, Steiner & Chase, owners of the line, when + they bought some ventilating patent and fitted it to the cabins of the + Breslau, Spandau, and Koltzau. The purser of the Breslau recommended me to + Holdock's secretary for the job; and Holdock, who is a Wesleyan Methodist, + invited me to his house, and gave me dinner with the governess when the + others had finished, and placed the plans and specifications in my hand, + and I wrote the pamphlet that same afternoon. It was called “Comfort in + the Cabin,” and brought me seven pound ten, cash down—an important + sum of money in those days; and the governess, who was teaching Master + John Holdock his scales, told me that Mrs. Holdock had told her to keep an + eye on me, in case I went away with coats from the hat-rack. McPhee liked + that pamphlet enormously, for it was composed in the Bouverie-Byzantine + style, with baroque and rococo embellishments; and afterwards he + introduced me to Mrs. McPhee, who succeeded Dinah in my heart; for Dinah + was half a world away, and it is wholesome and antiseptic to love such a + woman as Janet McPhee. They lived in a little twelve-pound house, close to + the shipping. When McPhee was away Mrs. McPhee read the Lloyds column in + the papers, and called on the wives of senior engineers of equal social + standing. Once or twice, too, Mrs. Holdock visited Mrs. McPhee in a + brougham with celluloid fittings, and I have reason to believe that, after + she had played owner's wife long enough, they talked scandal. The Holdocks + lived in an old-fashioned house with a big brick garden not a mile from + the McPhees, for they stayed by their money as their money stayed by them; + and in summer you met their brougham solemnly junketing by Theydon Bois or + Loughton. But I was Mrs. McPhee's friend, for she allowed me to convoy her + westward, sometimes, to theatres where she sobbed or laughed or shivered + with a simple heart; and she introduced me to a new world of doctors' + wives, captains' wives, and engineers' wives, whose whole talk and thought + centred in and about ships and lines of ships you have never heard of. + There were sailing-ships, with stewards and mahogany and maple saloons, + trading to Australia, taking cargoes of consumptives and hopeless + drunkards for whom a sea-voyage was recommended; there were frowzy little + West African boats, full of rats and cockroaches, where men died anywhere + but in their bunks; there were Brazilian boats whose cabins could be hired + for merchandise, that went out loaded nearly awash; there were Zanzibar + and Mauritius steamers and wonderful reconstructed boats that plied to the + other tide of Borneo. These were loved and known, for they earned our + bread and a little butter, and we despised the big Atlantic boats, and + made fun of the P. & O. and Orient liners, and swore by our respective + owners—Wesleyan, Baptist, or Presbyterian, as the case might be. + </p> + <p> + I had only just come back to England when Mrs. McPhee invited me to dinner + at three o'clock in the afternoon, and the notepaper was almost bridal in + its scented creaminess. When I reached the house I saw that there were new + curtains in the window that must have cost forty-five shillings a pair; + and as Mrs. McPhee drew me into the little marble-papered hall, she looked + at me keenly, and cried: + </p> + <p> + “Have ye not heard? What d' ye think o' the hatrack?” + </p> + <p> + Now, that hat-rack was oak-thirty shillings, at least. McPhee came + down-stairs with a sober foot—he steps as lightly as a cat, for all + his weight, when he is at sea—and shook hands in a new and awful + manner—a parody of old Holdock's style when he says good-bye to his + skippers. I perceived at once that a legacy had come to him, but I held my + peace, though Mrs. McPhee begged me every thirty seconds to eat a great + deal and say nothing. It was rather a mad sort of meal, because McPhee and + his wife took hold of hands like little children (they always do after + voyages), and nodded and winked and choked and gurgled, and hardly ate a + mouthful. + </p> + <p> + A female servant came in and waited; though Mrs. McPhee had told me time + and again that she would thank no one to do her housework while she had + her health. But this was a servant with a cap, and I saw Mrs. McPhee swell + and swell under her garance-coloured gown. There is no small free-board to + Janet McPhee, nor is garance any subdued tint; and with all this + unexplained pride and glory in the air I felt like watching fireworks + without knowing the festival. When the maid had removed the cloth she + brought a pineapple that would have cost half a guinea at that season + (only McPhee has his own way of getting such things), and a Canton china + bowl of dried lichis, and a glass plate of preserved ginger, and a small + jar of sacred and Imperial chow-chow that perfumed the room. McPhee gets + it from a Dutchman in Java, and I think he doctors it with liqueurs. But + the crown of the feast was some Madeira of the kind you can only come by + if you know the wine and the man. A little maize-wrapped fig of clotted + Madeira cigars went with the wine, and the rest was a pale blue smoky + silence; Janet, in her splendour, smiling on us two, and patting McPhee's + hand. + </p> + <p> + “We'll drink,” said McPhee, slowly, rubbing his chin, “to the eternal + damnation o' Holdock, Steiner & Chase.” + </p> + <p> + Of course I answered “Amen,” though I had made seven pound ten shillings + out of the firm. McPhee's enemies were mine, and I was drinking his + Madeira. + </p> + <p> + “Ye've heard nothing?” said Janet. “Not a word, not a whisper?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a word, nor a whisper. On my word, I have not.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell him, Mac,” said she; and that is another proof of Janet's goodness + and wifely love. A smaller woman would have babbled first, but Janet is + five feet nine in her stockings. + </p> + <p> + “We're rich,” said McPhee. I shook hands all round. + </p> + <p> + “We're damned rich,” he added. I shook hands all round a second time. + </p> + <p> + “I'll go to sea no more—unless—there's no sayin'—a + private yacht, maybe—wi' a small an' handy auxiliary.” + </p> + <p> + “It's not enough for that,” said Janet. “We're fair rich—well-to-do, + but no more. A new gown for church, and one for the theatre. We'll have it + made west.” + </p> + <p> + “How much is it?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-five thousand pounds.” I drew a long breath. “An' I've been + earnin' twenty-five an' twenty pound a month!” + </p> + <p> + The last words came away with a roar, as though the wide world was + conspiring to beat him down. + </p> + <p> + “All this time I'm waiting,” I said. “I know nothing since last September. + Was it left you?” + </p> + <p> + They laughed aloud together. “It was left,” said McPhee, choking. “Ou, ay, + it was left. That's vara good. Of course it was left. Janet, d' ye note + that? It was left. Now if you'd put that in your pamphlet it would have + been vara jocose. It was left.” He slapped his thigh and roared till the + wine quivered in the decanter. + </p> + <p> + The Scotch are a great people, but they are apt to hang over a joke too + long, particularly when no one can see the point but themselves. + </p> + <p> + “When I rewrite my pamphlet I'll put it in, McPhee. Only I must know + something more first.” + </p> + <p> + McPhee thought for the length of half a cigar, while Janet caught my eye + and led it round the room to one new thing after another—the new + vine-pattern carpet, the new chiming rustic clock between the models of + the Colombo outrigger-boats, the new inlaid sideboard with a purple + cut-glass flower-stand, the fender of gilt and brass, and last, the new + black-and-gold piano. + </p> + <p> + “In October o' last year the Board sacked me,” began McPhee. “In October + o' last year the Breslau came in for winter overhaul. She'd been runnin' + eight months—two hunder an' forty days—an' I was three days + makin' up my indents, when she went to dry-dock. All told, mark you, it + was this side o' three hunder pound—to be preceese, two hunder an' + eighty-six pound four shillings. There's not another man could ha' nursed + the Breslau for eight months to that tune. Never again—never again! + They may send their boats to the bottom, for aught I care.” + </p> + <p> + “There's no need,” said Janet, softly. “We're done wi' Holdock, Steiner + & Chase.” + </p> + <p> + “It's irritatin', Janet, it's just irritatin'. I ha' been justified from + first to last, as the world knows, but—but I canna forgie 'em. Ay, + wisdom is justified o' her children; an' any other man than me wad ha' + made the indent eight hunder. Hay was our skipper—ye'll have met + him. They shifted him to the Torgau, an' bade me wait for the Breslau + under young Bannister. Ye'll obsairve there'd been a new election on the + Board. I heard the shares were sellin' hither an' yon, an' the major part + of the Board was new to me. The old Board would ne'er ha' done it. They + trusted me. But the new Board were all for reorganisation. Young Steiner—Steiner's + son—the Jew, was at the bottom of it, an' they did not think it + worth their while to send me word. The first I knew—an' I was Chief + Engineer—was the notice of the line's winter sailin's, and the + Breslau timed for sixteen days between port an' port! Sixteen days, man! + She's a good boat, but eighteen is her summer time, mark you. Sixteen was + sheer flytin', kitin' nonsense, an' so I told young Bannister. + </p> + <p> + “We've got to make it,' he said. 'Ye should not ha' sent in a three hunder + pound indent.' + </p> + <p> + “Do they look for their boats to be run on air?' I said. 'The Board's + daft.' + </p> + <p> + “'E'en tell 'em so,' he says. 'I'm a married man, an' my fourth's on the + ways now, she says.'” + </p> + <p> + “A boy—wi' red hair,” Janet put in. Her own hair is the splendid + red-gold that goes with a creamy complexion. + </p> + <p> + “My word, I was an angry man that day! Forbye I was fond o' the old + Breslau, I looked for a little consideration from the Board after twenty + years' service. There was Board-meetin' on Wednesday, an' I slept + overnight in the engine-room, takin' figures to support my case. Well, I + put it fair and square before them all. 'Gentlemen,' I said, 'I've run the + Breslau eight seasons, an' I believe there's no fault to find wi' my wark. + But if ye haud to this'—I waggled the advertisement at 'em—'this + that I've never heard of it till I read it at breakfast, I do assure you + on my professional reputation, she can never do it. That is to say, she + can for a while, but at a risk no thinkin' man would run.' + </p> + <p> + “'What the deil d' ye suppose we pass your indents for?' says old Holdock. + 'Man, we're spendin' money like watter.' + </p> + <p> + “'I'll leave it in the Board's hands,' I said, 'if two hunder an' + eighty-seven pound is anything beyond right and reason for eight months.' + I might ha' saved my breath, for the Board was new since the last + election, an' there they sat, the damned deevidend-huntin' ship-chandlers, + deaf as the adders o' Scripture. + </p> + <p> + “'We must keep faith wi' the public,' said young Steiner. + </p> + <p> + “'Keep faith wi' the Breslau, then,' I said. 'She's served you well, an' + your father before you. She'll need her bottom restiffenin', an' new + bed-plates, an' turnin' out the forward boilers, an' re-turnin' all three + cylinders, an' refacin' all guides, to begin with. It's a three months' + job.' + </p> + <p> + “'Because one employee is afraid? 'says young Steiner. 'Maybe a piano in + the Chief Engineer's cabin would be more to the point.' + </p> + <p> + “I crushed my cap in my hands, an' thanked God we'd no bairns an' a bit + put by. + </p> + <p> + “'Understand, gentlemen,' I said. 'If the Breslau is made a sixteen-day + boat, ye'll find another engineer.' + </p> + <p> + “'Bannister makes no objection,' said Holdock. + </p> + <p> + “'I'm speakin' for myself,' I said. 'Bannister has bairns. 'An' then I + lost my temper. 'Ye can run her into Hell an' out again if ye pay + pilotage,' I said, 'but ye run without me.' + </p> + <p> + “'That's insolence,' said young Steiner. + </p> + <p> + “'At your pleasure,' I said, turnin' to go. + </p> + <p> + “'Ye can consider yourself dismissed. We must preserve discipline among + our employees,' said old Holdock, an' he looked round to see that the + Board was with him. They knew nothin'—God forgie 'em—an' they + nodded me out o' the line after twenty years—after twenty years. + </p> + <p> + “I went out an' sat down by the hall porter to get my wits again. I'm + thinkin' I swore at the Board. Then auld McRimmon—o' McNaughten + & McRimmon—came, oot o' his office, that's on the same floor, + an' looked at me, proppin' up one eyelid wi' his forefinger. Ye know they + call him the Blind Deevil, forbye he onythin' but blind, an' no deevil in + his dealin's wi' me—McRimmon o' the Black Bird Line. + </p> + <p> + “'What's here, Mister McPhee?' said he. + </p> + <p> + “I was past prayin' for by then. 'A Chief Engineer sacked after twenty + years' service because he'll not risk the Breslau on the new timin', an' + be damned to ye, McRimmon,' I said. + </p> + <p> + “The auld man sucked in his lips an' whistled. 'AH,' said he, 'the new + timin'. I see!' He doddered into the Board-room I'd just left, an' the + Dandie-dog that is just his blind man's leader stayed wi' me. That was + providential. In a minute he was back again. 'Ye've cast your bread on the + watter, McPhee, an' be damned to you,' he says. 'Whaur's my dog? My word, + is he on your knee? There's more discernment in a dog than a Jew. What + garred ye curse your Board, McPhee? It's expensive.' + </p> + <p> + “'They'll pay more for the Breslau,' I said. 'Get off my knee, ye + smotherin' beast.' + </p> + <p> + “'Bearin's hot, eh?' said McRimmon. 'It's thirty year since a man daur + curse me to my face. Time was I'd ha' cast ye doon the stairway for that.' + </p> + <p> + “'Forgie's all!' I said. He was wearin' to eighty, as I knew. 'I was + wrong, McRimmon; but when a man's shown the door for doin' his plain duty + he's not always ceevil.' + </p> + <p> + “'So I hear,' says McRimmon. 'Ha' ye ony objection to a tramp freighter? + It's only fifteen a month, but they say the Blind Deevil feeds a man + better than others. She's my Kite. Come ben. Ye can thank Dandie, here. + I'm no used to thanks. An' noo,' says he, 'what possessed ye to throw up + your berth wi' Holdock?' + </p> + <p> + “'The new timin',' said I. 'The Breslau will not stand it.' + </p> + <p> + “'Hoot, oot,' said he. 'Ye might ha' crammed her a little—enough to + show ye were drivin' her—an' brought her in twa days behind. What's + easier than to say ye slowed for bearin's, eh? All my men do it, and—I + believe 'em.' + </p> + <p> + “'McRimmon,' says I, 'what's her virginity to a lassie?' + </p> + <p> + “He puckered his dry face an' twisted in his chair. 'The warld an' a',' + says he. 'My God, the vara warld an' a'. (But what ha' you or me to do wi' + virginity, this late along?)' + </p> + <p> + “'This,' I said. 'There's just one thing that each one of us in his trade + or profession will not do for ony consideration whatever. If I run to time + I run to time, barrin' always the risks o' the high seas. Less than that, + under God, I have not done. More than that, by God, I will not do! There's + no trick o' the trade I'm not acquaint wi'—' + </p> + <p> + “'So I've heard,' says McRimmon, dry as a biscuit. + </p> + <p> + “'But yon matter o' fair rennin' s just my Shekinah, ye'll understand. I + daurna tamper wi' that. Nursing weak engines is fair craftsmanship; but + what the Board ask is cheatin', wi' the risk o' manslaughter addeetional.' + Ye'll note I know my business. + </p> + <p> + “There was some more talk, an' next week I went aboard the Kite, + twenty-five hunder ton, simple compound, a Black Bird tramp. The deeper + she rode, the better she'd steam. I've snapped as much as eleven out of + her, but eight point three was her fair normal. Good food forward an' + better aft, all indents passed wi'out marginal remarks, the best coal, new + donkeys, and good crews. There was nothin' the old man would not do, + except paint. That was his deeficulty. Ye could no more draw paint than + his last teeth from him. He'd come down to dock, an' his boats a scandal + all along the watter, an' he'd whine an' cry an' say they looked all he + could desire. Every owner has his non plus ultra, I've obsairved. Paint + was McRimmon's. But you could get round his engines without riskin' your + life, an', for all his blindness, I've seen him reject five flawed + intermediates, one after the other, on a nod from me; an' his + cattle-fittin's were guaranteed for North Atlantic winter weather. Ye ken + what that means? McRimmon an' the Black Bird Line, God bless him! + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I forgot to say she would lie down an' fill her forward deck green, + an' snore away into a twenty-knot gale forty-five to the minute, three an' + a half knots an hour, the engines runnin' sweet an' true as a bairn + breathin' in its sleep. Bell was skipper; an' forbye there's no love lost + between crews an' owners, we were fond o' the auld Blind Deevil an' his + dog, an' I'm thinkin' he liked us. He was worth the windy side o' twa + million sterlin', an' no friend to his own blood-kin. Money's an awfu' + thing—overmuch—for a lonely man. + </p> + <p> + “I'd taken her out twice, there an' back again, when word came o' the + Breslau's breakdown, just as I prophesied. Calder was her engineer—he's + not fit to run a tug down the Solent—and he fairly lifted the + engines off the bed-plates, an' they fell down in heaps, by what I heard. + So she filled from the after stuffin'-box to the after bulkhead, an' lay + star-gazing, with seventy-nine squealin' passengers in the saloon, till + the Camaralzaman o' Ramsey & Gold's Cartagena line gave her a tow to + the tune o' five thousand seven hunder an' forty pound, wi' costs in the + Admiralty Court. She was helpless, ye'll understand, an' in no case to + meet ony weather. Five thousand seven hunder an' forty pounds, with costs, + an' exclusive o' new engines! They'd ha' done better to ha' kept me on the + old timin'. + </p> + <p> + “But, even so, the new Board were all for retrenchment. Young Steiner, the + Jew, was at the bottom of it. They sacked men right an' left, that would + not eat the dirt the Board gave 'em. They cut down repairs; they fed crews + wi' leavin's an' scrapin's; and, reversin', McRimmon's practice, they hid + their defeeciencies wi' paint an' cheap gildin'. Quem Deus vult perrdere + prrius dementat, ye remember. + </p> + <p> + “In January we went to dry-dock, an' in the next dock lay the Grotkau, + their big freighter that was the Dolabella o' Piegan, Piegan & Walsh's + line in '84—a Clyde-built iron boat, a flat-bottomed, + pigeon-breasted, under-engined, bull-nosed bitch of a five thousand ton + freighter, that would neither steer, nor steam, nor stop when ye asked + her. Whiles she'd attend to her helm, whiles she'd take charge, whiles + she'd wait to scratch herself, an' whiles she'd buttock into a dockhead. + But Holdock and Steiner had bought her cheap, and painted her all over + like the Hoor o' Babylon, an' we called her the Hoor for short.” (By the + way, McPhee kept to that name throughout the rest of his tale; so you must + read accordingly.) “I went to see young Bannister—he had to take + what the Board gave him, an' he an' Calder were shifted together from the + Breslau to this abortion—an' talkin' to him I went into the dock + under her. Her plates were pitted till the men that were paint, paint, + paintin' her laughed at it. But the warst was at the last. She'd a great + clumsy iron twelve-foot Thresher propeller—Aitcheson designed the + Kites'—and just on the tail o' the shaft, behind the boss, was a red + weepin' crack ye could ha' put a penknife to. Man, it was an awful crack! + </p> + <p> + “'When d' ye ship a new tail-shaft?' I said to Bannister. + </p> + <p> + “He knew what I meant. 'Oh, yon's a superfeecial flaw,' says he, not + lookin' at me. + </p> + <p> + “'Superfeecial Gehenna!' I said. 'Ye'll not take her oot wi' a solution o' + continuity that like.' + </p> + <p> + “'They'll putty it up this evening,' he said. 'I'm a married man, an'—ye + used to know the Board.' + </p> + <p> + “I e'en said what was gied me in that hour. Ye know how a drydock echoes. + I saw young Steiner standin' listenin' above me, an', man, he used + language provocative of a breach o' the peace. I was a spy and a disgraced + employ, an' a corrupter o' young Bannister's morals, an' he'd prosecute me + for libel. He went away when I ran up the steps—I'd ha' thrown him + into the dock if I'd caught him—an' there I met McRimmon, wi' Dandie + pullin' on the chain, guidin' the auld man among the railway lines. + </p> + <p> + “'McPhee,' said he, 'ye're no paid to fight Holdock, Steiner, Chase & + Company, Limited, when ye meet. What's wrong between you?' + </p> + <p> + “'No more than a tail-shaft rotten as a kail-stump. For ony sakes go an' + look, McRimmon. It's a comedietta.' + </p> + <p> + “'I'm feared o' yon conversational Hebrew,' said he. 'Whaur's the flaw, + an' what like?' + </p> + <p> + “'A seven-inch crack just behind the boss. There's no power on earth will + fend it just jarrin' off.' + </p> + <p> + “'When?' + </p> + <p> + “'That's beyon' my knowledge,' I said. + </p> + <p> + “'So it is; so it is,' said McRimmon. 'We've all oor leemitations. Ye're + certain it was a crack?' + </p> + <p> + “'Man, it's a crevasse,' I said, for there were no words to describe the + magnitude of it. 'An' young Bannister's sayin' it's no more than a + superfeecial flaw!' + </p> + <p> + “'Weell, I tak' it oor business is to mind oor business. If ye've ony + friends aboard her, McPhee, why not bid them to a bit dinner at Radley's?' + </p> + <p> + “'I was thinkin' o' tea in the cuddy,' I said. 'Engineers o' tramp + freighters cannot afford hotel prices.' + </p> + <p> + “'Na! na!' says the auld man, whimperin'. 'Not the cuddy. They'll laugh at + my Kite, for she's no plastered with paint like the Hoor. Bid them to + Radley's, McPhee, an' send me the bill. Thank Dandie, here, man. I'm no + used to thanks.' Then he turned him round. (I was just thinkin' the vara + same thing.) 'Mister McPhee,' said he, 'this is not senile dementia.' + </p> + <p> + “'Preserve 's!' I said, clean jumped oot o' mysel'. 'I was but thinkin' + you're fey, McRimmon.' + </p> + <p> + “Dod, the auld deevil laughed till he nigh sat down on Dandie. 'Send me + the bill,' says he. 'I'm long past champagne, but tell me how it tastes + the morn.' + </p> + <p> + “Bell and I bid young Bannister and Calder to dinner at Radley's. They'll + have no laughin' an' singin' there, but we took a private room—like + yacht-owners fra' Cowes.” + </p> + <p> + McPhee grinned all over, and lay back to think. + </p> + <p> + “And then?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “We were no drunk in ony preceese sense o' the word, but Radley's showed + me the dead men. There were six magnums o' dry champagne an' maybe a + bottle o' whisky.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to tell me that you four got away with a magnum and a half a + piece, besides whisky?” I demanded. + </p> + <p> + McPhee looked down upon me from between his shoulders with toleration. + </p> + <p> + “Man, we were not settin' down to drink,” he said. “They no more than made + us wutty. To be sure, young Bannister laid his head on the table an' + greeted like a bairn, an' Calder was all for callin' on Steiner at two in + the morn an' painting him galley-green; but they'd been drinkin' the + afternoon. Lord, how they twa cursed the Board, an' the Grotkau, an' the + tail-shaft, an' the engines, an' a'! They didna talk o' superfeecial flaws + that night. I mind young Bannister an' Calder shakin' hands on a bond to + be revenged on the Board at ony reasonable cost this side o' losing their + certificates. Now mark ye how false economy ruins business. The Board fed + them like swine (I have good reason to know it), an' I've obsairved wi' my + ain people that if ye touch his stomach ye wauken the deil in a Scot. Men + will tak' a dredger across the Atlantic if they 're well fed, an' fetch + her somewhere on the broadside o' the Americas; but bad food's bad service + the warld over. + </p> + <p> + “The bill went to McRimmon, an' he said no more to me till the week-end, + when I was at him for more paint, for we'd heard the Kite was chartered + Liverpool-side. 'Bide whaur ye're put,' said the Blind Deevil. 'Man, do ye + wash in champagne? The Kite's no leavin' here till I gie the order, an'—how + am I to waste paint onher, wi' the Lammergeyer docked for who knows how + long an' a'?' + </p> + <p> + “She was our big freighter—McIntyre was engineer—an' I knew + she'd come from overhaul not three months. That morn I met McRimmon's + head-clerk—ye'll not know him—fair bitin' his nails off wi' + mortification. + </p> + <p> + “'The auld man's gone gyte,' says he. 'He's withdrawn the Lammergeyer.' + </p> + <p> + “'Maybe he has reasons,' says I. + </p> + <p> + “'Reasons! He's daft!' + </p> + <p> + “'He'll no be daft till he begins to paint,' I said. + </p> + <p> + “'That's just what he's done—and South American freights higher than + we'll live to see them again. He's laid her up to paint her—to paint + her—to paint her!' says the little clerk, dancin' like a hen on a + hot plate. 'Five thousand ton o' potential freight rottin' in drydock, + man; an' he dolin' the paint out in quarter-pound tins, for it cuts him to + the heart, mad though he is. An' the Grotkau—the Grotkau of all + conceivable bottoms—soaking up every pound that should be ours at + Liverpool!' + </p> + <p> + “I was staggered wi' this folly—considerin' the dinner at Radley's + in connection wi' the same. + </p> + <p> + “Ye may well stare, McPhee,' says the head-clerk. 'There's engines, an' + rollin' stock, an' iron bridgesd' ye know what freights are noo? an' + pianos, an' millinery, an' fancy Brazil cargo o' every species pourin' + into the Grotkau—the Grotkau o' the Jerusalem firm—and the + Lammergeyer's bein' painted!' + </p> + <p> + “Losh, I thought he'd drop dead wi' the fits. + </p> + <p> + “I could say no more than 'Obey orders, if ye break owners,' but on the + Kite we believed McRimmon was mad; an' McIntyre of the Lammergeyer was for + lockin' him up by some patent legal process he'd found in a book o' + maritime law. An' a' that week South American freights rose an' rose. It + was sinfu'! + </p> + <p> + “Syne Bell got orders to tak' the Kite round to Liverpool in + water-ballast, and McRimmon came to bid's good-bye, yammerin' an' whinin' + o'er the acres o' paint he'd lavished on the Lammergeyer. + </p> + <p> + “'I look to you to retrieve it,' says he. 'I look to you to reimburse me! + 'Fore God, why are ye not cast off? Are ye dawdlin' in dock for a + purpose?' + </p> + <p> + “'What odds, McRimmon?' says Bell. 'We'll be a day behind the fair at + Liverpool. The Grotkau's got all the freight that might ha' been ours an' + the Lammergeyer's.' McRimmon laughed an' chuckled—the pairfect + eemage o' senile dementia. Ye ken his eyebrows wark up an' down like a + gorilla's. + </p> + <p> + “'Ye're under sealed orders,' said he, tee-heein' an' scratchin' himself. + 'Yon's they'—to be opened seriatim. + </p> + <p> + “Says Bell, shufflin' the envelopes when the auld man had gone ashore: + 'We're to creep round a' the south coast, standin' in for orders his + weather, too. There's no question o' his lunacy now.' + </p> + <p> + “Well, we buttocked the auld Kite along—vara bad weather we made—standin' + in all alongside for telegraphic orders, which are the curse o' skippers. + Syne we made over to Holyhead, an' Bell opened the last envelope for the + last instructions. I was wi' him in the cuddy, an' he threw it over to me, + cryin': 'Did ye ever know the like, Mac?' + </p> + <p> + “I'll no say what McRimmon had written, but he was far from mad. There was + a sou'wester brewin' when we made the mouth o' the Mersey, a bitter cold + morn wi' a grey-green sea and a grey-green sky—Liverpool weather, as + they say; an' there we lay choppin', an' the crew swore. Ye canna keep + secrets aboard ship. They thought McRimmon was mad, too. + </p> + <p> + “Syne we saw the Grotkau rollin' oot on the top o' flood, deep an' double + deep, wi' her new-painted funnel an' her new-painted boats an' a'. She + looked her name, an', moreover, she coughed like it. Calder tauld me at + Radley's what ailed his engines, but my own ear would ha' told me twa mile + awa', by the beat o' them. Round we came, plungin' an' squatterin' in her + wake, an' the wind cut wi' good promise o' more to come. By six it blew + hard but clear, an' before the middle watch it was a sou'wester in + airnest. + </p> + <p> + “'She'll edge into Ireland, this gait,' says Bell. I was with him on the + bridge, watchin' the Grotkau's port light. Ye canna see green so far as + red, or we'd ha' kept to leeward. We'd no passengers to consider, an' (all + eyes being on the Grotkau) we fair walked into a liner rampin' home to + Liverpool. Or, to be preceese, Bell no more than twisted the Kite oot from + under her bows, and there was a little damnin' betwix' the twa bridges. + “Noo a passenger”—McPhee regarded me benignantly—“wad ha' told + the papers that as soon as he got to the Customs. We stuck to the + Grotkau's tail that night an' the next twa days—she slowed down to + five knot by my reckonin' and we lapped along the weary way to the + Fastnet.” + </p> + <p> + “But you don't go by the Fastnet to get to any South American port, do + you?” I said. + </p> + <p> + “We do not. We prefer to go as direct as may be. But we were followin' the + Grotkau, an' she'd no walk into that gale for ony consideration. Knowin' + what I did to her discredit, I couldna blame young Bannister. It was + warkin' up to a North Atlantic winter gale, snow an' sleet an' a perishin' + wind. Eh, it was like the Deil walkin' abroad o' the surface o' the deep, + whuppin' off the top o' the waves before he made up his mind. They'd bore + up against it so far, but the minute she was clear o' the Skelligs she + fair tucked up her skirts an' ran for it by Dunmore Head. Wow, she rolled! + </p> + <p> + “'She'll be makin' Smerwick,' says Bell. + </p> + <p> + “She'd ha' tried for Ventry by noo if she meant that,' I said. + </p> + <p> + “'They'll roll the funnel oot o' her, this gait,' says Bell. 'Why canna + Bannister keep her head to sea?' + </p> + <p> + “It's the tail-shaft. Ony rollin''s better than pitchin' wi' superfeecial + cracks in the tail-shaft. Calder knows that much,' I said. + </p> + <p> + “'It's ill wark retreevin' steamers this weather,' said Bell. His beard + and whiskers were frozen to his oilskin, an' the spray was white on the + weather side of him. Pairfect North Atlantic winter weather! + </p> + <p> + “One by one the sea raxed away our three boats, an' the davits were + crumpled like ram's horns. + </p> + <p> + “'Yon's bad,' said Bell, at the last. 'Ye canna pass a hawser wi'oot a + boat.' Bell was a vara judeecious man—for an Aberdonian. + </p> + <p> + “I'm not one that fashes himself for eventualities outside the + engine-room, so I e'en slipped down betwixt waves to see how the Kite + fared. Man, she's the best geared boat of her class that ever left Clyde! + Kinloch, my second, knew her as well as I did. I found him dryin' his + socks on the main-steam, an' combin' his whiskers wi' the comb Janet gied + me last year, for the warld an' a' as though we were in port. I tried the + feed, speered into the stoke-hole, thumbed all bearin's, spat on the + thrust for luck, gied 'em my blessin', an' took Kinloch's socks before I + went up to the bridge again. + </p> + <p> + “Then Bell handed me the wheel, an' went below to warm himself. When he + came up my gloves were frozen to the spokes an' the ice clicked over my + eyelids. Pairfect North Atlantic winter weather, as I was sayin'. + </p> + <p> + “The gale blew out by night, but we lay in smotherin' cross-seas that made + the auld Kite chatter from stem to stern. I slowed to thirty-four, I mind—no, + thirty-seven. There was a long swell the morn, an' the Grotkau was headin' + into it west awa'. + </p> + <p> + “'She'll win to Rio yet, tail-shaft or no tail-shaft,' says Bell. + </p> + <p> + “'Last night shook her,' I said. 'She'll jar it off yet, mark my word.' + </p> + <p> + “We were then, maybe, a hunder and fifty mile westsou'west o' Slyne Head, + by dead reckonin'. Next day we made a hunder an' thirty—ye'll note + we were not racin-boats—an' the day after a hunder an' sixty-one, + an' that made us, we'll say, Eighteen an' a bittock west, an' maybe + Fifty-one an' a bittock north, crossin' all the North Atlantic liner lanes + on the long slant, always in sight o' the Grotkau, creepin' up by night + and fallin' awa' by day. After the gale it was cold weather wi' dark + nights. + </p> + <p> + “I was in the engine-room on Friday night, just before the middle watch, + when Bell whustled down the tube: 'She's done it'; an' up I came. + </p> + <p> + “The Grotkau was just a fair distance south, an' one by one she ran up the + three red lights in a vertical line—the sign of a steamer not under + control. + </p> + <p> + “'Yon's a tow for us,' said Bell, lickin' his chops. 'She'll be worth more + than the Breslau. We'll go down to her, McPhee!' + </p> + <p> + “'Bide a while,' I said. 'The seas fair throng wi' ships here.' + </p> + <p> + “'Reason why,' said Bell. 'It's a fortune gaun beggin'. What d' ye think, + man?' + </p> + <p> + “'Gie her till daylight. She knows we're here. If Bannister needs help + he'll loose a rocket.' + </p> + <p> + “'Wha told ye Bannister's need? We'll ha' some rag-an'-bone tramp snappin' + her up under oor nose,' said he; an' he put the wheel over. We were goin' + slow. + </p> + <p> + “'Bannister wad like better to go home on a liner an' eat in the saloon. + Mind ye what they said o' Holdock & Steiner's food that night at + Radley's? Keep her awa', man—keep her awa'. A tow's a tow, but a + derelict's big salvage.' + </p> + <p> + “'E-eh! 'said Bell. 'Yon's an inshot o' yours, Mac. I love ye like a + brother. We'll bide whaur we are till daylight'; an' he kept her awa'. + </p> + <p> + “Syne up went a rocket forward, an' twa on the bridge, an' a blue light + aft. Syne a tar-barrel forward again. + </p> + <p> + “'She's sinkin',' said Bell. 'It's all gaun, an' I'll get no more than a + pair o' night-glasses for pickin' up young Bannister—the fool!' + </p> + <p> + “' Fair an' soft again,' I said. 'She's signallin' to the south of us. + Bannister knows as well as I that one rocket would bring the Breslau. + He'll no be wastin' fireworks for nothin'. Hear her ca'!' + </p> + <p> + “The Grotkau whustled an' whustled for five minutes, an' then there were + more fireworks—a regular exhibeetion. + </p> + <p> + “'That's no for men in the regular trade,' says Bell. 'Ye're right, Mac. + That's for a cuddy full o' passengers.' He blinked through the + night-glasses when it lay a bit thick to southward. + </p> + <p> + “'What d' ye make of it?' I said. + </p> + <p> + “'Liner,' he says. 'Yon's her rocket. Ou, ay; they've waukened the + gold-strapped skipper, an'—noo they've waukened the passengers. + They're turnin' on the electrics, cabin by cabin. Yon's anither rocket! + They're comin' up to help the perishin' in deep watters.' + </p> + <p> + “'Gie me the glass,' I said. But Bell danced on the bridge, clean + dementit. 'Mails-mails-mails!' said he. 'Under contract wi' the Government + for the due conveyance o' the mails; an' as such, Mac, yell note, she may + rescue life at sea, but she canna tow!—she canna tow! Yon's her + night-signal. She'll be up in half an hour!' + </p> + <p> + “'Gowk!' I said, 'an' we blazin' here wi' all oor lights. Oh, Bell, ye're + a fool!' + </p> + <p> + “He tumbled off the bridge forward, an' I tumbled aft, an' before ye could + wink our lights were oot, the engine-room hatch was covered, an' we lay + pitch-dark, watchin' the lights o' the liner come up that the Grotkau'd + been signallin' to. Twenty knot an hour she came, every cabin lighted, an' + her boats swung awa'. It was grandly done, an' in the inside of an hour. + She stopped like Mrs. Holdock's machine; down went the gangway, down went + the boats, an' in ten minutes we heard the passengers cheerin', an' awa' + she fled. + </p> + <p> + “'They'll tell o' this all the days they live,' said Bell. 'A rescue at + sea by night, as pretty as a play. Young Bannister an' Calder will be + drinkin' in the saloon, an' six months hence the Board o' Trade 'll gie + the skipper a pair o' binoculars. It's vara philanthropic all round.' + </p> + <p> + “We'll lay by till day—ye may think we waited for it wi' sore eyes + an' there sat the Grotkau, her nose a bit cocked, just leerin' at us. She + looked paifectly ridiculous. + </p> + <p> + “'She'll be fillin' aft,' says Bell; 'for why is she down by the stern? + The tail-shaft's punched a hole in her, an'—we 've no boats. There's + three hunder thousand pound sterlin', at a conservative estimate, droonin' + before our eyes. What's to do?' An' his bearin's got hot again in a + minute: he was an incontinent man. + </p> + <p> + “'Run her as near as ye daur,' I said. 'Gie me a jacket an' a lifeline, + an' I'll swum for it.' There was a bit lump of a sea, an' it was cold in + the wind—vara cold; but they'd gone overside like passengers, young + Bannister an' Calder an' a', leaving the gangway down on the lee-side. It + would ha' been a flyin' in the face o' manifest Providence to overlook the + invitation. We were within fifty yards o' her while Kinloch was garmin' me + all over wi' oil behind the galley; an' as we ran past I went outboard for + the salvage o' three hunder thousand pound. Man, it was perishin' cold, + but I'd done my job judgmatically, an' came scrapin' all along her side + slap on to the lower gratin' o' the gangway. No one more astonished than + me, I assure ye. Before I'd caught my breath I'd skinned both my knees on + the gratin', an' was climbin' up before she rolled again. I made my line + fast to the rail, an' squattered aft to young Bannister's cabin, whaaur I + dried me wi' everything in his bunk, an' put on every conceivable sort o' + rig I found till the blood was circulatin'. Three pair drawers, I mind I + found—to begin upon—an' I needed them all. It was the coldest + cold I remember in all my experience. + </p> + <p> + “Syne I went aft to the engine-room. The Grotkau sat on her own tail, as + they say. She was vara shortshafted, an' her gear was all aft. There was + four or five foot o' water in the engine-room slummockin' to and fro, + black an' greasy; maybe there was six foot. The stoke-hold doors were + screwed home, an' the stoke-hold was tight enough, but for a minute the + mess in the engine-room deceived me. Only for a minute, though, an' that + was because I was not, in a manner o' speakin', as calm as ordinar'. I + looked again to mak' sure. 'T was just black wi' bilge: dead watter that + must ha' come in fortuitously, ye ken.” + </p> + <p> + “McPhee, I'm only a passenger,” I said, “but you don't persuade me that + six foot o' water can come into an engine-room fortuitously.” + </p> + <p> + “Who's tryin' to persuade one way or the other?” McPhee retorted. “I'm + statin' the facts o' the case—the simple, natural facts. Six or + seven foot o' dead watter in the engine-room is a vara depressin' sight if + ye think there's like to be more comin'; but I did not consider that such + was likely, and so, yell note, I was not depressed.” + </p> + <p> + “That's all very well, but I want to know about the water,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “I've told ye. There was six feet or more there, wi' Calder's cap floatin' + on top.” + </p> + <p> + “Where did it come from?” + </p> + <p> + “Weel, in the confusion o' things after the propeller had dropped off an' + the engines were racin' an' a', it's vara possible that Calder might ha' + lost it off his head an' no troubled himself to pick it up again. I + remember seem' that cap on him at Southampton.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't want to know about the cap. I'm asking where the water came from + and what it was doing there, and why you were so certain that it wasn't a + leak, McPhee?” + </p> + <p> + “For good reason-for good an' sufficient reason.” + </p> + <p> + “Give it to me, then.” + </p> + <p> + “Weel, it's a reason that does not properly concern myself only. To be + preceese, I'm of opinion that it was due, the watter, in part to an error + o' judgment in another man. We can a' mak' mistakes.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I beg your pardon?” + </p> + <p> + “I got me to the rail again, an', 'What's wrang?' said Bell, hailin'. + </p> + <p> + “'She'll do,' I said. 'Send's o'er a hawser, an' a man to steer. I'll pull + him in by the life-line.' + </p> + <p> + “I could see heads bobbin' back an' forth, an' a whuff or two o' strong + words. Then Bell said: 'They'll not trust themselves—one of 'em—in + this waiter—except Kinloch, an' I'll no spare him.' + </p> + <p> + “'The more salvage to me, then,' I said. 'I'll make shift solo.' + </p> + <p> + “Says one dock-rat, at this: 'D' ye think she's safe?' + </p> + <p> + “'I'll guarantee ye nothing,' I said, 'except maybe a hammerin' for + keepin' me this long.' + </p> + <p> + “Then he sings out: 'There's no more than one lifebelt, an' they canna + find it, or I'd come.' + </p> + <p> + “'Throw him over, the Jezebel,' I said, for I was oot o' patience; an' + they took haud o' that volunteer before he knew what was in store, and + hove him over, in the bight of my life-line. So I e'en hauled him upon the + sag of it, hand over fist—a vara welcome recruit when I'd tilted the + salt watter oot of him: for, by the way, he could na swim. + </p> + <p> + “Syne they bent a twa-inch rope to the life-line, an' a hawser to that, + an' I led the rope o'er the drum of a hand-winch forward, an' we sweated + the hawser inboard an' made it fast to the Grotkau's bitts. + </p> + <p> + “Bell brought the Kite so close I feared she'd roll in an' do the + Grotkau's plates a mischief. He hove anither life-line to me, an' went + astern, an' we had all the weary winch work to do again wi' a second + hawser. For all that, Bell was right: we'd along tow before us, an' though + Providence had helped us that far, there was no sense in leavin' too much + to its keepin'. When the second hawser was fast, I was wet wi' sweat, an' + I cried Bell to tak' up his slack an' go home. The other man was by way o' + helpin' the work wi' askin' for drinks, but I e'en told him he must hand + reef an' steer, beginnin' with steerin', for I was goin' to turn in. He + steered—oh, ay, he steered, in a manner o' speakin'. At the least, + he grippit the spokes an' twiddled 'em an' looked wise, but I doubt if the + Hoor ever felt it. I turned in there an' then, to young Bannister's bunk, + an' slept past expression. I waukened ragin' wi' hunger, a fair lump o' + sea runnin', the Kite snorin' awa' four knots an hour; an' the Grotkau + slappin' her nose under, an' yawin' an' standin' over at discretion. She + was a most disgracefu' tow. But the shameful thing of all was the food. I + raxed me a meal fra galley-shelves an' pantries an' lazareetes an' + cubby-holes that I would not ha' gied to the mate of a Cardiff collier; + an' ye ken we say a Cardiff mate will eat clinkers to save waste. I'm + sayin' it was simply vile! The crew had written what they thought of it on + the new paint o' the fo'c'sle, but I had not a decent soul wi' me to + complain on. There was nothin' for me to do save watch the hawsers an' the + Kite's tail squatterin' down in white watter when she lifted to a sea; so + I got steam on the after donkey-pump, an' pumped oot the engine-room. + There's no sense in leavin' waiter loose in a ship. When she was dry, I + went doun the shaft-tunnel, an' found she was leakin' a little through the + stuffin'box, but nothin' to make wark. The propeller had e'en jarred off, + as I knew it must, an' Calder had been waitin' for it to go wi' his hand + on the gear. He told me as much when I met him ashore. There was nothin' + started or strained. It had just slipped awa' to the bed o' the Atlantic + as easy as a man dyin' wi' due warning—a most providential business + for all concerned. Syne I took stock o' the Grotkau's upper works. Her + boats had been smashed on the davits, an' here an' there was the rail + missin', an' a ventilator or two had fetched awa', an' the bridge-rails + were bent by the seas; but her hatches were tight, and she'd taken no sort + of harm. Dod, I came to hate her like a human bein', for I was eight weary + days aboard, starvin'—ay, starvin'—within a cable's length o' + plenty. All day I laid in the bunk reading the' Woman-Hater,' the grandest + book Charlie Reade ever wrote, an' pickin' a toothful here an' there. It + was weary, weary work. Eight days, man, I was aboard the Grotkau, an' not + one full meal did I make. Sma' blame her crew would not stay by her. The + other man? Oh I warked him wi' a vengeance to keep him warm. + </p> + <p> + “It came on to blow when we fetched soundin's, an' that kept me standin' + by the hawsers, lashed to the capstan, breathin' twixt green seas. I near + died o' cauld an' hunger, for the Grotkau towed like a barge, an' Bell + howkit her along through or over. It was vara thick up-Channel, too. We + were standin' in to make some sort o' light, an' we near walked over twa + three fishin'-boats, an' they cried us we were overclose to Falmouth. Then + we were near cut down by a drunken foreign fruiter that was blunderin' + between us an' the shore, and it got thicker an' thicker that night, an' I + could feel by the tow Bell did not know whaur he was. Losh, we knew in the + morn, for the wind blew the fog oot like a candle, an' the sun came clear; + and as surely as McRimmon gied me my cheque, the shadow o' the Eddystone + lay across our tow-rope! We were that near—ay, we were that near! + Bell fetched the Kite round with the jerk that came close to tearin' the + bitts out o' the Grotkau, an' I mind I thanked my Maker in young + Bannister's cabin when we were inside Plymouth breakwater. + </p> + <p> + “The first to come aboard was McRimmon, wi' Dandie. Did I tell you our + orders were to take anything we found into Plymouth? The auld deil had + just come down overnight, puttin' two an' two together from what Calder + had told him when the liner landed the Grotkau's men. He had preceesely + hit oor time. I'd hailed Bell for something to eat, an' he sent it o'er in + the same boat wi' McRimmon, when the auld man came to me. He grinned an' + slapped his legs and worked his eyebrows the while I ate. + </p> + <p> + “'How do Holdock, Steiner & Chase feed their men?' said he. + </p> + <p> + “'Ye can see,' I said, knockin' the top off another beer-bottle. 'I did + not sign to be starved, McRimmon.' + </p> + <p> + “'Nor to swum, either,' said he, for Bell had tauld him how I carried the + line aboard. 'Well, I'm thinkin' you'll be no loser. What freight could we + ha' put into the Lammergeyer would equal salvage on four hunder thousand + pounds—hull an' cargo? Eh, McPhee? This cuts the liver out o' + Holdock, Steiner, Chase & Company, Limited. Eh, McPhee? An' I'm + sufferin' from senile dementia now? Eh, MCPhee? An' I'm not daft, am I, + till I begin to paint the Lammergeyer? Eh, McPhee? Ye may weel lift your + leg, Dandie! I ha' the laugh o' them all. Ye found watter in the + engine-room?' + </p> + <p> + “'To speak wi'oot prejudice,' I said, 'there was some watter.' + </p> + <p> + “'They thought she was sinkin' after the propeller went. She filled wi' + extraordinary rapeedity. Calder said it grieved him an' Bannister to + abandon her.' + </p> + <p> + “I thought o' the dinner at Radley's, an' what like o' food I'd eaten for + eight days. + </p> + <p> + “'It would grieve them sore,' I said. + </p> + <p> + “'But the crew would not hear o' stayin' and workin' her back under + canvas. They're gaun up an' down sayin' they'd ha' starved first.' + </p> + <p> + “'They'd ha' starved if they'd stayed,' said I. + </p> + <p> + “'I tak' it, fra Calder's account, there was a mutiny a'most.' + </p> + <p> + “'Ye know more than I, McRimmon' I said. 'Speakin' wi'oot prejudice, for + we're all in the same boat, who opened the bilgecock?' + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, that's it—is it?' said the auld man, an' I could see he was + surprised. 'A bilge-cock, ye say?' + </p> + <p> + “'I believe it was a bilge-cock. They were all shut when I came aboard, + but some one had flooded the engine-room eight feet over all, and shut it + off with the worm-an'-wheel gear from the second gratin' afterwards.' + </p> + <p> + “'Losh!' said McRimmon. 'The ineequity o' man's beyond belief. But it's + awfu' discreditable to Holdock, Steiner & Chase, if that came oot in + court.' + </p> + <p> + “'It's just my own curiosity,' I said. + </p> + <p> + “'Aweel, Dandie's afflicted wi' the same disease. Dandie, strive against + curiosity, for it brings a little dog into traps an' suchlike. Whaur was + the Kite when yon painted liner took off the Grotkau's people?' + </p> + <p> + “'Just there or thereabouts,' I said. + </p> + <p> + “'An' which o' you twa thought to cover your lights?' said he, winkin'. + </p> + <p> + “'Dandle,' I said to the dog, 'we must both strive against curiosity. It's + an unremunerative business. What's our chance o' salvage, Dandie?' + </p> + <p> + “He laughed till he choked. 'Tak' what I gie you, McPhee, an' be content,' + he said. 'Lord, how a man wastes time when he gets old. Get aboard the + Kite, mon, as soon as ye can. I've clean forgot there's a Baltic charter + yammerin' for you at London. That'll be your last voyage, I'm thinkin', + excep' by way o' pleasure.' + </p> + <p> + “Steiner's men were comin' aboard to take charge an' tow her round, an' I + passed young Steiner in a boat as I went to the Kite. He looked down his + nose; but McRimmon pipes up: 'Here's the man ye owe the Grotkau to—at + a price, Steiner—at a price! Let me introduce Mr. McPhee to you. + Maybe ye've met before; but ye've vara little luck in keepin' your men—ashore + or afloat!' + </p> + <p> + “Young Steiner looked angry enough to eat him as he chuckled an' whustled + in his dry old throat. + </p> + <p> + “'Ye've not got your award yet,' Steiner says. + </p> + <p> + “'Na, na,' says the auld man, in a screech ye could hear to the Hoe, 'but + I've twa million sterlin', an' no bairns, ye Judeeas Apella, if ye mean to + fight; an' I'll match ye p'und for p'und till the last p'und's oot. Ye ken + me, Steiner! I'm McRimmon o' McNaughten & McRimmon!' + </p> + <p> + “'Dod,' he said betwix' his teeth, sittin' back in the boat, 'I've waited + fourteen year to break that Jewfirm, an' God be thankit I'll do it now.' + </p> + <p> + “The Kite was in the Baltic while the auld man was warkin' his warks, but + I know the assessors valued the Grotkau, all told, at over three hunder + and sixty thousand—her manifest was a treat o' richness—an' + McRimmon got a third for salvin' an abandoned ship. Ye see, there's vast + deeference between towin' a ship wi' men on her an' pickin' up a derelict—a + vast deeference—in pounds sterlin'. Moreover, twa three o' the + Grotkau's crew were burnin' to testify about food, an' there was a note o' + Calder to the Board, in regard to the tail-shaft, that would ha' been vara + damagin' if it had come into court. They knew better than to fight. + </p> + <p> + “Syne the Kite came back, an' McRimmon paid off me an' Bell personally, + an' the rest of the crew pro rata, I believe it's ca'ed. My share—oor + share, I should say—was just twenty-five thousand pound sterlin'.” + </p> + <p> + At this point Janet jumped up and kissed him. + </p> + <p> + “Five-and-twenty thousand pound sterlin'. Noo, I'm fra the North, and I'm + not the like to fling money awa' rashly, but I'd gie six months' pay—one + hunder an' twenty pounds—to know who flooded the engine-room of the + Grotkau. I'm fairly well acquaint wi' McRimmon's eediosyncrasies, and he'd + no hand in it. It was not Calder, for I've asked him, an' he wanted to + fight me. It would be in the highest degree unprofessional o' Calder—not + fightin', but openin' bilge-cocks—but for a while I thought it was + him. Ay, I judged it might be him—under temptation.” + </p> + <p> + “What's your theory?” I demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Weel, I'm inclined to think it was one o' those singular providences that + remind us we're in the hands o' Higher Powers.”. + </p> + <p> + “It couldn't open and shut itself?” + </p> + <p> + “I did not mean that; but some half-starvin' oiler or, maybe, trimmer must + ha' opened it awhile to mak' sure o' leavin' the Grotkau. It's a + demoralisin' thing to see an engine-room flood up after any accident to + the gear—demoralisin' and deceptive both. Aweel, the man got what he + wanted, for they went aboard the liner cryin' that the Grotkau was + sinkin'. But it's curious to think o' the consequences. In a' human + probability, he's bein' damned in heaps at the present moment aboard + another tramp freighter; an' here am I, wi' five-an'-twenty thousand pound + invested, resolute to go to sea no more—providential's the preceese + word—except as a passenger, ye'll understand, Janet.” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + McPhee kept his word. He and Janet went for a voyage as passengers in the + first-class saloon. They paid seventy pounds for their berths; and Janet + found a very sick woman in the second-class saloon, so that for sixteen + days she lived below, and chatted with the stewardesses at the foot of the + second-saloon stairs while her patient slept. McPhee was a passenger for + exactly twenty-four hours. Then the engineers' mess—where the + oilcloth tables are—joyfully took him to its bosom, and for the rest + of the voyage that company was richer by the unpaid services of a highly + certificated engineer. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + AN ERROR IN THE FOURTH DIMENSION + </h2> + <p> + Before he was thirty, he discovered that there was no one to play with + him. Though the wealth of three toilsome generations stood to his account, + though his tastes in the matter of books, bindings, rugs, swords, bronzes, + lacquer, pictures, plate, statuary, horses, conservatories, and + agriculture were educated and catholic, the public opinion of his country + wanted to know why he did not go to office daily, as his father had before + him. + </p> + <p> + So he fled, and they howled behind him that he was an unpatriotic + Anglomaniac, born to consume fruits, one totally lacking in public spirit. + He wore an eyeglass; he had built a wall round his country house, with a + high gate that shut, instead of inviting America to sit on his + flower-beds; he ordered his clothes from England; and the press of his + abiding city cursed him, from his eye-glass to his trousers, for two + consecutive days. + </p> + <p> + When he rose to light again, it was where nothing less than the tents of + an invading army in Piccadilly would make any difference to anybody. If he + had money and leisure, England stood ready to give him all that money and + leisure could buy. That price paid, she would ask no questions. He took + his cheque-book and accumulated things—warily at first, for he + remembered that in America things own the man. To his delight, he + discovered that in England he could put his belongings under his feet; for + classes, ranks, and denominations of people rose, as it were, from the + earth, and silently and discreetly took charge of his possessions. They + had been born and bred for that sole purpose—servants of the + cheque-book. When that was at an end they would depart as mysteriously as + they had come. + </p> + <p> + The impenetrability of this regulated life irritated him, and he strove to + learn something of the human side of these people. He retired baffled, to + be trained by his menials. In America, the native demoralises the English + servant. In England, the servant educates the master. Wilton Sargent + strove to learn all they taught as ardently as his father had striven to + wreck, before capture, the railways of his native land; and it must have + been some touch of the old bandit railway blood that bade him buy, for a + song, Holt Hangars, whose forty-acre lawn, as every one knows, sweeps down + in velvet to the quadruple tracks of the Great Buchonian Railway. Their + trains flew by almost continuously, with a bee-like drone in the day and a + flutter of strong wings at night. The son of Merton Sargent had good right + to be interested in them. He owned controlling interests in several + thousand miles of track,—not permanent way,—built on + altogether different plans, where locomotives eternally whistled for + grade-crossings, and parlor-cars of fabulous expense and unrestful design + skated round curves that the Great Buchonian would have condemned as + unsafe in a construction-line. From the edge of his lawn he could trace + the chaired metals falling away, rigid as a bowstring, into the valley of + the Prest, studded with the long perspective of the block signals, + buttressed with stone, and carried, high above all possible risk, on a + forty-foot embankment. + </p> + <p> + Left to himself, he would have builded a private car, and kept it at the + nearest railway-station, Amberley Royal, five miles away. But those into + whose hands he had committed himself for his English training had little + knowledge of railways and less of private cars. The one they knew was + something that existed in the scheme of things for their convenience. The + other they held to be “distinctly American”; and, with the versatility of + his race, Wilton Sargent had set out to be just a little more English than + the English. + </p> + <p> + He succeeded to admiration. He learned not to redecorate Holt Hangars, + though he warmed it; to leave his guests alone; to refrain from + superfluous introductions; to abandon manners of which he had great store, + and to hold fast by manner which can after labour be acquired. He learned + to let other people, hired for the purpose, attend to the duties for which + they were paid. He learned—this he got from a ditcher on the estate—that + every man with whom he came in contact had his decreed position in the + fabric of the realm, which position he would do well to consult. Last + mystery of all, he learned to golf—well: and when an American knows + the innermost meaning of “Don't press, slow back, and keep your eye on the + ball,” he is, for practical purposes, denationalised. + </p> + <p> + His other education proceeded on the pleasantest lines. Was he interested + in any conceivable thing in heaven above, or the earth beneath, or the + waters under the earth? Forthwith appeared at his table, guided by those + safe hands into which he had fallen, the very men who had best said, done, + written, explored, excavated, built, launched, created, or studied that + one thing—herders of books and prints in the British Museum; + specialists in scarabs, cartouches, and dynasties Egyptian; rovers and + raiders from the heart of unknown lands; toxicologists; orchid-hunters; + monographers on flint implements, carpets, prehistoric man, or early + Renaissance music. They came, and they played with him. They asked no + questions; they cared not so much as a pin who or what he was. They + demanded only that he should be able to talk and listen courteously. Their + work was done elsewhere and out of his sight. + </p> + <p> + There were also women. + </p> + <p> + “Never,” said Wilton Sargent to himself, “has an American seen England as + I'm seeing it”; and he thought, blushing beneath the bedclothes, of the + unregenerate and blatant days when he would steam to office, down the + Hudson, in his twelve-hundred-ton ocean-going steam-yacht, and arrive, by + gradations, at Bleecker Street, hanging on to a leather strap between an + Irish washerwoman and a German anarchist. If any of his guests had seen + him then they would have said: “How distinctly American!” and—Wilton + did not care for that tone. He had schooled himself to an English walk, + and, so long as he did not raise it, an English voice. He did not + gesticulate with his hands; he sat down on most of his enthusiasms, but he + could not rid himself of The Shibboleth. He would ask for the + Worcestershire sauce: even Howard, his immaculate butler, could not break + him of this. + </p> + <p> + It was decreed that he should complete his education in a wild and + wonderful manner, and, further, that I should be in at that death. + </p> + <p> + Wilton had more than once asked me to Holt Hangars, for the purpose of + showing how well the new life fitted him, and each time I had declared it + creaseless. His third invitation was more informal than the others, and he + hinted of some matter in which he was anxious for my sympathy or counsel, + or both. There is room for an infinity of mistakes when a man begins to + take liberties with his nationality; and I went down expecting things. A + seven-foot dog-cart and a groom in the black Holt Hangars livery met me at + Amberley Royal. At Holt Hangars I was received by a person of elegance and + true reserve, and piloted to my luxurious chamber. There were no other + guests in the house, and this set me thinking. + </p> + <p> + Wilton came into my room about half an hour before dinner, and though his + face was masked with a drop-curtain of highly embroidered indifference, I + could see that he was not at ease. In time, for he was then almost as + difficult to move as one of my own countrymen, I extracted the tale—simple + in its extravagance, extravagant in its simplicity. It seemed that Hackman + of the British Museum had been staying with him about ten days before, + boasting of scarabs. Hackman has a way of carrying really priceless + antiquities on his tie-ring and in his trouser pockets. Apparently, he had + intercepted something on its way to the Boulak Museum which, he said, was + “a genuine Amen-Hotepa queen's scarab of the Fourth Dynasty.” Now Wilton + had bought from Cassavetti, whose reputation is not above suspicion, a + scarab of much the same scarabeousness, and had left it in his London + chambers. Hackman at a venture, but knowing Cassavetti, pronounced it an + imposition. There was long discussion—savant versus millionaire, one + saying: “ut I know it cannot be”; and the other: “But I can and will prove + it.” Wilton found it necessary for his soul's satisfaction to go up to + town, then and there,—a forty-mile run,—and bring back the + scarab before dinner. It was at this point that he began to cut corners + with disastrous results. Amberley Royal station being five miles away, and + putting in of horses a matter of time, Wilton had told Howard, the + immaculate butler, to signal the next train to stop; and Howard, who was + more of a man of resource than his master gave him credit for, had, with + the red flag of the ninth hole of the links which crossed the bottom of + the lawn, signalled vehemently to the first down-train; and it had + stopped. Here Wilton's account became confused. He attempted, it seems, to + get into that highly indignant express, but a guard restrained him with + more or less force—hauled him, in fact, backyards from the window of + a locked carriage. Wilton must have struck the gravel with some vehemence, + for the consequences, he admitted, were a free fight on the line in which + he lost his hat, and was at last dragged into the guard's van and set down + breathless. + </p> + <p> + He had pressed money upon the man, and very foolishly had explained + everything but his name. This he clung to, for he had a vision of tall + head-lines in the New York papers, and well knew no son of Merton Sargent + could expect mercy that side the water. The guard, to Wilton's amazement, + refused the money on the grounds that this was a matter for the Company to + attend to. Wilton insisted on his incognito, and, therefore, found two + policemen waiting for him at St. Botolph terminus. When he expressed a + wish to buy a new hat and telegraph to his friends, both policemen with + one voice warned him that whatever he said would be used as evidence + against him; and this had impressed Wilton tremendously. + </p> + <p> + “They were so infernally polite,” he said. “If they had clubbed me I + wouldn't have cared; but it was, 'Step this way, sir,' and, 'Up those + stairs, please, sir,' till they jailed me—jailed me like a common + drunk, and I had to stay in a filthy little cubby-hole of a cell all + night.” + </p> + <p> + “That comes of not giving your name and not wiring your lawyer,” I + replied. “What did you get?” + </p> + <p> + “Forty shillings, or a month,” said Wilton, promptly,—“next morning + bright and early. They were working us off, three a minute. A girl in a + pink hat—she was brought in at three in the morning—got ten + days. I suppose I was lucky. I must have knocked his senses out of the + guard. He told the old duck on the bench that I had told him I was a + sergeant in the army, and that I was gathering beetles on the track. That + comes of trying to explain to an Englishman.” + </p> + <p> + “And you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I said nothing. I wanted to get out. I paid my fine, and bought a new + hat, and came up here before noon next morning. There were a lot of people + in the house, and I told 'em I'd been unavoidably detained, and then they + began to recollect engagements elsewhere. Hackman must have seen the fight + on the track and made a story of it. I suppose they thought it was + distinctly American—confound 'em! It's the only time in my life that + I've ever flagged a train, and I wouldn't have done it but for that + scarab. 'T wouldn't hurt their old trains to be held up once in a while.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's all over now,” I said, choking a little. “And your name didn't + get into the papers. It is rather transatlantic when you come to think of + it.” + </p> + <p> + “Over!” Wilton grunted savagely. “It's only just begun. That trouble with + the guard was just common, ordinary assault—merely a little criminal + business. The flagging of the train is civil, infernally civil,—and + means something quite different. They're after me for that now.” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” + </p> + <p> + “The Great Buchonian. There was a man in court watching the case on behalf + of the Company. I gave him my name in a quiet corner before I bought my + hat, and—come to dinner now; I'll show you the results afterwards.” + The telling of his wrongs had worked Wilton Sargent into a very fine + temper, and I do not think that my conversation soothed him. In the course + of the dinner, prompted by a devil of pure mischief, I dwelt with loving + insistence on certain smells and sounds of New York which go straight to + the heart of the native in foreign parts; and Wilton began to ask many + questions about his associates aforetime—men of the New York Yacht + Club, Storm King, or the Restigouche, owners of rivers, ranches, and + shipping in their playtime, lords of railways, kerosene, wheat, and cattle + in their offices. When the green mint came, I gave him a peculiarly oily + and atrocious cigar, of the brand they sell in the tessellated, + electric-lighted, with expensive-pictures of the nude adorned bar of the + Pandemonium, and Wilton chewed the end for several minutes ere he lit it. + The butler left us alone, and the chimney of the oak-panelled diningroom + began to smoke. + </p> + <p> + “That's another!” said he, poking the fire savagely, and I knew what he + meant. One cannot put steam-heat in houses where Queen Elizabeth slept. + The steady beat of a night-mail, whirling down the valley, recalled me to + business. “What about the Great Buchonian?” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Come into my study. That's all—as yet.” + </p> + <p> + It was a pile of Seidlitz-powders-coloured correspondence, perhaps nine + inches high, and it looked very businesslike. + </p> + <p> + “You can go through it,” said Wilton. “Now I could take a chair and a red + flag and go into Hyde Park and say the most atrocious things about your + Queen, and preach anarchy and all that, y' know, till I was hoarse, and no + one would take any notice. The Police damn 'em!—would protect me if + I got into trouble. But for a little thing like flagging a dirty little + sawed-off train,—running through my own grounds, too,—I get + the whole British Constitution down on me as if I sold bombs. I don't + understand it.” + </p> + <p> + “No more does the Great Buchonian—apparently.” I was turning over + the letters. “Here's the traffic superintendent writing that it's utterly + incomprehensible that any man should... Good heavens, Wilton, you have + done it!” I giggled, as I read on. + </p> + <p> + “What's funny now?” said my host. + </p> + <p> + “It seems that you, or Howard for you, stopped the three-forty Northern + down.” + </p> + <p> + “I ought to know that! They all had their knife into me, from the + engine-driver up.” + </p> + <p> + “But it's the three-forty—the Induna—surely you've heard of + the Great Buchonian's Induna!” + </p> + <p> + “How the deuce am I to know one train from another? They come along about + every two minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite so. But this happens to be the Induna—the one train of the + whole line. She's timed for fifty-seven miles an hour. She was put on + early in the Sixties, and she has never been stopped—” + </p> + <p> + “I know! Since William the Conqueror came over, or King Charles hid in her + smoke-stack. You're as bad as the rest of these Britishers. If she's been + run all that while, it's time she was flagged once or twice.” + </p> + <p> + The American was beginning to ooze out all over Wilton, and his + small-boned hands were moving restlessly. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose you flagged the Empire State Express, or the Western Cyclone?” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose I did. I know Otis Harvey—or used to. I'd send him a wire, + and he'd understand it was a ground-hog case with me. That's exactly what + I told this British fossil company here.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you been answering their letters without legal advice, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I have.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my Sainted Country! Go ahead, Wilton.” + </p> + <p> + “I wrote 'em that I'd be very happy to see their president and explain to + him in three words all about it; but that wouldn't do. 'Seems their + president must be a god. He was too busy, and—well, you can read for + yourself—they wanted explanations. The stationmaster at Amberley + Royal—and he grovels before me, as a rule—wanted an + explanation, and quick, too. The head sachem at St. Botolph's wanted three + or four, and the Lord High Mukkamuk that oils the locomotives wanted one + every fine day. I told 'em—I've told hem about fifty times—I + stopped their holy and sacred train because I wanted to board her. Did + they think I wanted to feel her pulse?” + </p> + <p> + “You didn't say that?” + </p> + <p> + “Feel her pulse'? Of course not.” + </p> + <p> + “No. 'Board her.'” + </p> + <p> + “What else could I say?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Wilton, what is the use of Mrs. Sherborne, and the Clays, and all + that lot working over you for four years to make an Englishman out of you, + if the very first time you're rattled you go back to the vernacular?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm through with Mrs. Sherborne and the rest of the crowd. America's good + enough for me. What ought I to have said? 'Please,' or 'thanks awf'ly or + how?” + </p> + <p> + There was no chance now of mistaking the man's nationality. Speech, + gesture, and step, so carefully drilled into him, had gone away with the + borrowed mask of indifference. It was a lawful son of the Youngest People, + whose predecessors were the Red Indian. His voice had risen to the high, + throaty crow of his breed when they labour under excitement. His close-set + eyes showed by turns unnecessary fear, annoyance beyond reason, rapid and + purposeless flights of thought, the child's lust for immediate revenge, + and the child's pathetic bewilderment, who knocks his head against the + bad, wicked table. And on the other side, I knew, stood the Company, as + unable as Wilton to understand. + </p> + <p> + “And I could buy their old road three times over,” he muttered, playing + with a paper-knife, and moving restlessly to and fro. + </p> + <p> + “You didn't tell 'em that, I hope!” + </p> + <p> + There was no answer; but as I went through the letters, I felt that Wilton + must have told them many surprising things. The Great Buchonian had first + asked for an explanation of the stoppage of their Induna, and had found a + certain levity in the explanation tendered. It then advised “Mr. W. + Sargent” to refer his solicitor to their solicitor, or whatever the legal + phrase is. + </p> + <p> + “And you didn't?” I said, looking up. + </p> + <p> + “No. They were treating me exactly as if I had been a kid playing on the + cable-tracks. There was not the least necessity for any solicitor. Five + minutes' quiet talk would have settled everything.” + </p> + <p> + I returned to the correspondence. The Great Buchonian regretted that, + owing to pressure of business, none of their directors could accept Mr. W. + Sargent's invitation to run down and discuss the difficulty. The Great + Buchonian was careful to point out that no animus underlay their action, + nor was money their object. Their duty was to protect the interests of + their line, and these interests could not be protected if a precedent were + established whereby any of the Queen's subjects could stop a train in + mid-career. Again (this was another branch of the correspondence, not more + than five heads of departments being concerned), the Company admitted that + there was some reasonable doubt as to the duties of express-trains in all + crises, and the matter was open to settlement by process of law till an + authoritative ruling was obtained—from the House of Lords, if + necessary. + </p> + <p> + “That broke me all up,” said Wilton, who was reading over my shoulder. “I + knew I'd struck the British Constitution at last. The House of Lords—my + Lord! And, anyway, I'm not one of the Queen's subjects.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I had a notion that you'd got yourself naturalised.” + </p> + <p> + Wilton blushed hotly as he explained that very many things must happen to + the British Constitution ere he took out his papers. + </p> + <p> + “How does it all strike you?” he said. “Isn't the Great Buchonian crazy?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. You've done something that no one ever thought of doing + before, and the Company don't know what to make of it. I see they offer to + send down their solicitor and another official of the Company to talk + things over informally. Then here's another letter suggesting that you put + up a fourteen-foot wall, crowned with bottle-glass, at the bottom of the + garden.” + </p> + <p> + “Talk of British insolence! The man who recommends that (he's another + bloated functionary) says that I shall 'derive great pleasure from + watching the wall going up day by day'! Did you ever dream of such gall? + I've offered 'em money enough to buy a new set of cars and pension the + driver for three generations; but that doesn't seem to be what they want. + They expect me to go to the House of Lords and get a ruling, and build + walls between times. Are they all stark, raving mad? One 'ud think I made + a profession of flagging trains. How in Tophet was I to know their old + Induna from a waytrain? I took the first that came along, and I've been + jailed and fined for that once already.” + </p> + <p> + “That was for slugging the guard.” + </p> + <p> + “He had no right to haul me out when I was half-way through a window.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do about it?” + </p> + <p> + “Their lawyer and the other official (can't they trust their men unless + they send 'em in pairs?) are coming hereto-night. I told 'em I was busy, + as a rule, till after dinner, but they might send along the entire + directorate if it eased 'em any.” + </p> + <p> + Now, after-dinner visiting, for business or pleasure, is the custom of the + smaller American town, and not that of England, where the end of the day + is sacred to the owner, not the public. Verily, Wilton Sargent had hoisted + the striped flag of rebellion! + </p> + <p> + “Isn't it time that the humour of the situation began to strike you, + Wilton?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Where's the humour of baiting an American citizen just because he happens + to be a millionaire—poor devil.” He was silent for a little time, + and then went on: “Of course. Now I see!” He spun round and faced me + excitedly. “It's as plain as mud. These ducks are laying their pipes to + skin me.” + </p> + <p> + “They say explicitly they don't want money!” + </p> + <p> + “That's all a blind. So's their addressing me as W. Sargent. They know + well enough who I am. They know I'm the old man's son. Why didn't I think + of that before?” + </p> + <p> + “One minute, Wilton. If you climbed to the top of the dome of St. Paul's + and offered a reward to any Englishman who could tell you who or what + Merton Sargent had been, there wouldn't be twenty men in all London to + claim it.” + </p> + <p> + “That's their insular provincialism, then. I don't care a cent. The old + man would have wrecked the Great Buchonian before breakfast for a + pipe-opener. My God, I'll do it in dead earnest! I'll show 'em that they + can't bulldoze a foreigner for flagging one of their little tinpot trains, + and—I've spent fifty thousand a year here, at least, for the last + four years.” + </p> + <p> + I was glad I was not his lawyer. I re-read the correspondence, notably the + letter which recommended him—almost tenderly, I fancied—to + build a fourteen-foot brick wall at the end of his garden, and half-way + through it a thought struck me which filled me with pure joy. + </p> + <p> + The footman ushered in two men, frock-coated, grey-trousered, + smooth-shaven, heavy of speech and gait. It was nearly nine o'clock, but + they looked as newly come from a bath. I could not understand why the + elder and taller of the pair glanced at me as though we had an + understanding; nor why he shook hands with an unEnglish warmth. + </p> + <p> + “This simplifies the situation,” he said in an undertone, and, as I + stared, he whispered to his companion: “I fear I shall be of very little + service at present. Perhaps Mr. Folsom had better talk over the affair + with Mr. Sargent.” + </p> + <p> + “That is what I am here for,” said Wilton. + </p> + <p> + The man of law smiled pleasantly, and said that he saw no reason why the + difficulty should not be arranged in two minutes' quiet talk. His air, as + he sat down opposite Wilton, was soothing to the last degree, and his + companion drew me up-stage. The mystery was deepening, but I followed + meekly, and heard Wilton say, with an uneasy laugh: + </p> + <p> + “I've had insomnia over this affair, Mr. Folsom. Let's settle it one way + or the other, for heaven's sake!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Has he suffered much from this lately?” said my man, with a + preliminary cough. + </p> + <p> + “I really can't say,” I replied. + </p> + <p> + “Then I suppose you have only lately taken charge here?” + </p> + <p> + “I came this evening. I am not exactly in charge of anything.” + </p> + <p> + “I see. Merely to observe the course of events in case—” He nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Exactly.” Observation, after all, is my trade. + </p> + <p> + He coughed again slightly, and came to business. + </p> + <p> + “Now,—I am asking solely for information's sake,—do you find + the delusions persistent?” + </p> + <p> + “Which delusions?” + </p> + <p> + “They are variable, then? That is distinctly curious, because—but do + I understand that the type of the delusion varies? For example, Mr. + Sargent believes that he can buy the Great Buchonian.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he write you that?” + </p> + <p> + “He made the offer to the Company—on a half-sheet of note-paper. + Now, has he by chance gone to the other extreme, and believed that he is + in danger of becoming a pauper? The curious economy in the use of a + half-sheet of paper shows that some idea of that kind might have flashed + through his mind, and the two delusions can coexist, but it is not common. + As you must know, the delusion of vast wealth—the folly of + grandeurs, I believe our friends the French call it—is, as a rule, + persistent, to the exclusion of all others.” + </p> + <p> + Then I heard Wilton's best English voice at the end of the study: + </p> + <p> + “My dear sir, I have explained twenty times already, I wanted to get that + scarab in time for dinner. Suppose you had left an important legal + document in the same way?” + </p> + <p> + “That touch of cunning is very significant,” my fellow-practitioner—since + he insisted on it—muttered. + </p> + <p> + “I am very happy, of course, to meet you; but if you had only sent your + president down to dinner here, I could have settled the thing in half a + minute. Why, I could have bought the Buchonian from him while your clerks + were sending me this.” Wilton dropped his hand heavily on the + blue-and-white correspondence, and the lawyer started. + </p> + <p> + “But, speaking frankly,” the lawyer replied, “it is, if I may say so, + perfectly inconceivable, even in the case of the most important legal + documents, that any one should stop the three-forty express—the + Induna—Our Induna, my dear sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Absolutely!” my companion echoed; then to me in a lower tone: “You + notice, again, the persistent delusion of wealth. I was called in when he + wrote us that. You can see it is utterly impossible for the Company to + continue to run their trains through the property of a man who may at any + moment fancy himself divinely commissioned to stop all traffic. If he had + only referred us to his lawyer—but, naturally, that he would not do, + under the circumstances. A pity—a great pity. He is so young. By the + way, it is curious, is it not, to note the absolute conviction in the + voice of those who are similarly afflicted,—heart-rending, I might + say, and the inability to follow a chain of connected thought.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't see what you want,” Wilton was saying to the lawyer. + </p> + <p> + “It need not be more than fourteen feet high—a really desirable + structure, and it would be possible to grow pear trees on the sunny side.” + The lawyer was speaking in an unprofessional voice. “There are few things + pleasanter than to watch, so to say, one's own vine and fig tree in full + bearing. Consider the profit and amusement you would derive from it. If + you could see your way to doing this, we could arrange all the details + with your lawyer, and it is possible that the Company might bear some of + the cost. I have put the matter, I trust, in a nutshell. If you, my dear + sir, will interest yourself in building that wall, and will kindly give us + the name of your lawyers, I dare assure you that you will hear no more + from the Great Buchonian.” + </p> + <p> + “But why am I to disfigure my lawn with a new brick wall?” + </p> + <p> + “Grey flint is extremely picturesque.” + </p> + <p> + “Grey flint, then, if you put it that way. Why the dickens must I go + building towers of Babylon just because I have held up one of your + trains-once?” + </p> + <p> + “The expression he used in his third letter was that he wished to 'board + her,'” said my companion in my ear. “That was very curious—a marine + delusion impinging, as it were, upon a land one. What a marvellous world + he must move in—and will before the curtain falls. So young, too—so + very young!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if you want the plain English of it, I'm damned if I go + wall-building to your orders. You can fight it all along the line, into + the House of Lords and out again, and get your rulings by the running foot + if you like,” said Wilton, hotly. “Great heavens, man, I only did it + once!” + </p> + <p> + “We have at present no guarantee that you may not do it again; and, with + our traffic, we must, in justice to our passengers, demand some form of + guarantee. It must not serve as a precedent. All this might have been + saved if you had only referred us to your legal representative.” The + lawyer looked appealingly around the room. The dead-lock was complete. + </p> + <p> + “Wilton,” I asked, “may I try my hand now?” + </p> + <p> + “Anything you like,” said Wilton. “It seems I can't talk English. I won't + build any wall, though.” He threw himself back in his chair. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” I said deliberately, for I perceived that the doctor's mind + would turn slowly, “Mr. Sargent has very large interests in the chief + railway systems of his own country.” + </p> + <p> + “His own country?” said the lawyer. + </p> + <p> + “At that age?” said the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly. He inherited them from his father, Mr. Sargent, who was an + American.” + </p> + <p> + “And proud of it,” said Wilton, as though he had been a Western Senator + let loose on the Continent for the first time. + </p> + <p> + “My dear sir,” said the lawyer, half rising, “why did you not acquaint the + Company with this fact—this vital fact—early in our + correspondence? We should have understood. We should have made + allowances.” + </p> + <p> + “Allowances be damned. Am I a Red Indian or a lunatic?” + </p> + <p> + The two men looked guilty. + </p> + <p> + “If Mr. Sargent's friend had told us as much in the beginning,” said the + doctor, very severely, “much might have been saved.” Alas! I had made a + life's enemy of that doctor. + </p> + <p> + “I hadn't a chance,” I replied. “Now, of course, you can see that a man + who owns several thousand miles of line, as Mr. Sargent does, would be apt + to treat railways a shade more casually than other people.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course; of course. He is an American; that accounts. Still, it was the + Induna; but I can quite understand that the customs of our cousins across + the water differ in these particulars from ours. And do you always stop + trains in this way in the States, Mr. Sargent?” + </p> + <p> + “I should if occasion ever arose; but I've never had to yet. Are you going + to make an international complication of the business?” + </p> + <p> + “You need give yourself no further concern whatever in the matter. We see + that there is no likelihood of this action of yours establishing a + precedent, which was the only thing we were afraid of. Now that you + understand that we cannot reconcile our system to any sudden stoppages, we + feel quite sure that—” + </p> + <p> + “I sha'n't be staying long enough to flag another train,” Wilton said + pensively. + </p> + <p> + “You are returning, then, to our fellow-kinsmen across the-ah-big pond, + you call it?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. The ocean—the North Atlantic Ocean. It's three thousand + miles broad, and three miles deep in places. I wish it were ten thousand.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not so fond of sea-travel myself; but I think it is every + Englishman's duty once in his life to study the great branch of our + Anglo-Saxon race across the ocean,” said the lawyer. + </p> + <p> + “If ever you come over, and care to flag any train on my system, I'll—I'll + see you through,” said Wilton. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you—ah, thank you. You're very kind. I'm sure I should enjoy + myself immensely.” + </p> + <p> + “We have overlooked the fact,” the doctor whispered to me, “that your + friend proposed to buy the Great Buchonian.” + </p> + <p> + “He is worth anything from twenty to thirty million dollars—four to + five million pounds,” I answered, knowing that it would be hopeless to + explain. + </p> + <p> + “Really! That is enormous wealth. But the Great Buchonian is not in the + market.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he does not want to buy it now.” + </p> + <p> + “It would be impossible under any circumstances,” said the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “How characteristic!” murmured the lawyer, reviewing matters in his mind. + “I always understood from books that your countrymen were in a hurry. And + so you would have gone forty miles to town and back—before dinner—to + get a scarab? How intensely American! But you talk exactly like an + Englishman, Mr. Sargent.” + </p> + <p> + “That is a fault that can be remedied. There's only one question I'd like + to ask you. You said it was inconceivable that any man should stop a train + on your road?” + </p> + <p> + “And so it is-absolutely inconceivable.” + </p> + <p> + “Any sane man, that is?” + </p> + <p> + “That is what I meant, of course. I mean, with excep—” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you.” + </p> + <p> + The two men departed. Wilton checked himself as he was about to fill a + pipe, took one of my cigars instead, and was silent for fifteen minutes. + </p> + <p> + Then said he: “Have you got a list of the Southampton sailings on you?” + </p> + <p> + Far away from the greystone wings, the dark cedars, the faultless gravel + drives, and the mint-sauce lawns of Holt Hangars runs a river called the + Hudson, whose unkempt banks are covered with the palaces of those wealthy + beyond the dreams of avarice. Here, where the hoot of the Haverstraw + brick-barge-tug answers the howl of the locomotive on either shore, you + shall find, with a complete installation of electric light, nickel-plated + binnacles, and a calliope attachment to her steam-whistle, the + twelve-hundred-ton ocean-going steam-yacht Columbia, lying at her private + pier, to take to his office, at an average speed of seventeen knots an + hour,—and the barges can look out for themselves,—Wilton + Sargent, American. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MY SUNDAY AT HOME + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + If the Red Slayer think he slays, + Or if the slain think he is slain, + They know not well the subtle ways + I keep and pass and turn again. + EMERSON. +</pre> + <p> + It was the unreproducible slid r, as he said this was his “fy-ist” visit + to England, that told me he was a New-Yorker from New York; and when, in + the course of our long, lazy journey westward from Waterloo, he enlarged + upon the beauties of his city, I, professing ignorance, said no word. He + had, amazed and delighted at the man's civility, given the London porter a + shilling for carrying his bag nearly fifty yards; he had thoroughly + investigated the first-class lavatory compartment, which the London and + Southwestern sometimes supply without extra charge; and now, half-awed, + half-contemptuous, but wholly interested, he looked out upon the ordered + English landscape wrapped in its Sunday peace, while I watched the wonder + grow upon his face. Why were the cars so short and stilted? Why had every + other freight-car a tarpaulin drawn over it? What wages would an engineer + get now? Where was the swarming population of England he had read so much + about? What was the rank of all those men on tricycles along the roads? + When were we due at Plymouth I told him all I knew, and very much that I + did not. He was going to Plymouth to assist in a consultation upon a + fellow-countryman who had retired to a place called The Hoe—was that + up-town or down-town—to recover from nervous dyspepsia. Yes, he + himself was a doctor by profession, and how any one in England could + retain any nervous disorder passed his comprehension. Never had he dreamed + of an atmosphere so soothing. Even the deep rumble of London traffic was + monastical by comparison with some cities he could name; and the country—why, + it was Paradise. A continuance of it, he confessed, would drive him mad; + but for a few months it was the most sumptuous rest-cure in his knowledge. + </p> + <p> + “I'll come over every year after this,” he said, in a burst of delight, as + we ran between two ten-foot hedges of pink and white may. “It's seeing all + the things I've ever read about. Of course it doesn't strike you that way. + I presume you belong here? What a finished land it is! It's arrived. 'Must + have been born this way. Now, where I used to live—Hello! what's + up?” + </p> + <p> + The train stopped in a blaze of sunshine at Framlynghame Admiral, which is + made up entirely of the name-board, two platforms, and an overhead bridge, + without even the usual siding. I had never known the slowest of locals + stop here before; but on Sunday all things are possible to the London and + Southwestern. One could hear the drone of conversation along the + carriages, and, scarcely less loud, the drone of the bumblebees in the + wallflowers up the bank. My companion thrust his head through the window + and sniffed luxuriously. + </p> + <p> + “Where are we now?” said he. + </p> + <p> + “In Wiltshire,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! A man ought to be able to write novels with his left hand in a + country like this. Well, well! And so this is about Tess's country, ain't + it? I feel just as if I were in a book. Say, the conduc—the guard + has something on his mind. What's he getting at?” + </p> + <p> + The splendid badged and belted guard was striding up the platform at the + regulation official pace, and in the regulation official voice was saying + at each door: + </p> + <p> + “Has any gentleman here a bottle of medicine? A gentleman has taken a + bottle of poison (laudanum) by mistake.” + </p> + <p> + Between each five paces he looked at an official telegram in his hand, + refreshed his memory, and said his say. The dreamy look on my companion's + face—he had gone far away with Tess—passed with the speed of a + snap-shutter. After the manner of his countrymen, he had risen to the + situation, jerked his bag down from the overhead rail, opened it, and I + heard the click of bottles. “Find out where the man is,” he said briefly. + “I've got something here that will fix him—if he can swallow still.” + </p> + <p> + Swiftly I fled up the line of carriages in the wake of the guard. There + was clamour in a rear compartment—the voice of one bellowing to be + let out, and the feet of one who kicked. With the tail of my eye I saw the + New York doctor hastening thither, bearing in his hand a blue and brimming + glass from the lavatory compartment. The guard I found scratching his head + unofficially, by the engine, and murmuring: “Well, I put a bottle of + medicine off at Andover—I'm sure I did.” + </p> + <p> + “Better say it again, any'ow',” said the driver. “Orders is orders. Say it + again.” + </p> + <p> + Once more the guard paced back, I, anxious to attract his attention, + trotting at his heels. + </p> + <p> + “In a minute—in a minute, sir,” he said, waving an arm capable of + starting all the traffic on the London and Southwestern Railway at a wave. + “Has any gentleman here got a bottle of medicine? A gentleman has taken a + bottle of poison (laudanum) by mistake.” + </p> + <p> + “Where's the man?” I gasped. + </p> + <p> + “Woking. 'Ere's my orders.” He showed me the telegram, on which were the + words to be said. “'E must have left 'is bottle in the train, an' took + another by mistake. 'E's been wirin' from Woking awful, an', now I come to + think of, it, I'm nearly sure I put a bottle of medicine off at Andover.” + </p> + <p> + “Then the man that took the poison isn't in the train?” + </p> + <p> + “Lord, no, sir. No one didn't take poison that way. 'E took it away with + 'im, in 'is 'ands. 'E's wirin' from Wokin'. My orders was to ask everybody + in the train, and I 'ave, an' we're four minutes late now. Are you comin' + on, sir? No? Right be'ind!” + </p> + <p> + There is nothing, unless, perhaps, the English language, more terrible + than the workings of an English railway-line. An instant before it seemed + as though we were going to spend all eternity at Framlynghame Admiral, and + now I was watching the tail of the train disappear round the curve of the + cutting. + </p> + <p> + But I was not alone. On the one bench of the down platform sat the largest + navvy I have ever seen in my life, softened and made affable (for he + smiled generously) with liquor. In his huge hands he nursed an empty + tumbler marked “L.S.W.R.”—marked also, internally, with streaks of + blue-grey sediment. Before him, a hand on his shoulder, stood the doctor, + and as I came within ear-shot, this is what I heard him say: “Just you + hold on to your patience for a minute or two longer, and you'll be as + right as ever you were in your life. I'll stay with you till you're + better.” + </p> + <p> + “Lord! I'm comfortable enough,” said the navvy. “Never felt better in my + life.” + </p> + <p> + Turning to me, the doctor lowered his voice. “He might have died while + that fool conduct-guard was saying his piece. I've fixed him, though. The + stuff's due in about five minutes, but there's a heap to him. I don't see + how we can make him take exercise.” + </p> + <p> + For the moment I felt as though seven pounds of crushed ice had been + neatly applied in the form of a compress to my lower stomach. + </p> + <p> + “How—how did you manage it?” I gasped. + </p> + <p> + “I asked him if he'd have a drink. He was knocking spots out of the car—strength + of his constitution, I suppose. He said he'd go 'most anywhere for a + drink, so I lured onto the platform, and loaded him up. 'Cold-blooded + people, you Britishers are. That train's gone, and no one seemed to care a + cent.” + </p> + <p> + “We've missed it,” I said. + </p> + <p> + He looked at me curiously. + </p> + <p> + “We'll get another before sundown, if that's your only trouble. Say, + porter, when's the next train down?” + </p> + <p> + “Seven forty-five,” said the one porter, and passed out through the + wicket-gate into the landscape. It was then three-twenty of a hot and + sleepy afternoon. The station was absolutely deserted. The navvy had + closed his eyes, and now nodded. + </p> + <p> + “That's bad,” said the doctor. “The man, I mean, not the train. We must + make him walk somehow—walk up and down.” + </p> + <p> + Swiftly as might be, I explained the delicacy of the situation, and the + doctor from New York turned a full bronze-green. Then he swore + comprehensively at the entire fabric of our glorious Constitution, cursing + the English language, root, branch, and paradigm, through its most obscure + derivatives. His coat and bag lay on the bench next to the sleeper. + Thither he edged cautiously, and I saw treachery in his eye. + </p> + <p> + What devil of delay possessed him to slip on his spring overcoat, I cannot + tell. They say a slight noise rouses a sleeper more surely than a heavy + one, and scarcely had the doctor settled himself in his sleeves than the + giant waked and seized that silk-faced collar in a hot right hand. There + was rage in his face-rage and the realisation of new emotions. + </p> + <p> + “I'm—I'm not so comfortable as I were,” he said from the deeps of + his interior. “You'll wait along o' me, you will.” He breathed heavily + through shut lips. + </p> + <p> + Now, if there was one thing more than another upon which the doctor had + dwelt in his conversation with me, it was upon the essential + law-abidingness, not to say gentleness, of his much-misrepresented + country. And yet (truly, it may have been no more than a button that irked + him) I saw his hand travel backwards to his right hip, clutch at + something, and come away empty. + </p> + <p> + “He won't kill you,” I said. “He'll probably sue you in court, if I know + my own people. Better give him some money from time to time.” + </p> + <p> + “If he keeps quiet till the stuff gets in its work,” the doctor answered, + “I'm all right. If he doesn't... my name is Emory—Julian B. Emory—193 + 'Steenth Street, corner of Madison and—” + </p> + <p> + “I feel worse than I've ever felt,” said the navvy, with suddenness. + “What-did-you-give-me-the-drink-for?” + </p> + <p> + The matter seemed to be so purely personal that I withdrew to a strategic + position on the overhead bridge, and, abiding in the exact centre, looked + on from afar. + </p> + <p> + I could see the white road that ran across the shoulder of Salisbury + Plain, unshaded for mile after mile, and a dot in the middle distance, the + back of the one porter returning to Framlynghame Admiral, if such a place + existed, till seven forty-five. The bell of a church invisible clanked + softly. There was a rustle in the horse-chestnuts to the left of the line, + and the sound of sheep cropping close. + </p> + <p> + The peace of Nirvana lay upon the land, and, brooding in it, my elbow on + the warm iron girder of the footbridge (it is a forty-shilling fine to + cross by any other means), I perceived, as never before, how the + consequences of our acts run eternal through time and through space. If we + impinge never so slightly upon the life of a fellow-mortal, the touch of + our personality, like the ripple of a stone cast into a pond, widens and + widens in unending circles across the aeons, till the far-off Gods + themselves cannot say where action ceases. Also, it was I who had silently + set before the doctor the tumbler of the first-class lavatory compartment + now speeding Plymouthward. Yet I was, in spirit at least, a million + leagues removed from that unhappy man of another nationality, who had + chosen to thrust an inexpert finger into the workings of an alien life. + The machinery was dragging him up and down the sunlit platform. The two + men seemed to be learning polka-mazurkas together, and the burden of their + song, borne by one deep voice, was: “What did you give me the drink for?” + </p> + <p> + I saw the flash of silver in the doctor's hand. The navvy took it and + pocketed it with his left; but never for an instant did his strong right + leave the doctor's coat-collar, and as the crisis approached, louder and + louder rose his bull-like roar: “What did you give me the drink for?” + </p> + <p> + They drifted under the great twelve-inch pinned timbers of the foot-bridge + towards the bench, and, I gathered, the time was very near at hand. The + stuff was getting in its work. Blue, white, and blue again, rolled over + the navvy's face in waves, till all settled to one rich clay-bank yellow + and—that fell which fell. + </p> + <p> + I thought of the blowing up of Hell Gate; of the geysers in the + Yellowstone Park; of Jonah and his whale: but the lively original, as I + watched it foreshortened from above, exceeded all these things. He + staggered to the bench, the heavy wooden seat cramped with iron cramps + into the enduring stone, and clung there with his left hand. It quivered + and shook, as a breakwater-pile quivers to the rush of landward-racing + seas; nor was there lacking when he caught his breath, the “scream of a + maddened beach dragged down by the tide.” His right hand was upon the + doctor's collar, so that the two shook to one paroxysm, pendulums + vibrating together, while I, apart, shook with them. + </p> + <p> + It was colossal-immense; but of certain manifestations the English + language stops short. French only, the caryatid French of Victor Hugo, + would have described it; so I mourned while I laughed, hastily shuffling + and discarding inadequate adjectives. The vehemence of the shock spent + itself, and the sufferer half fell, half knelt, across the bench. He was + calling now upon God and his wife, huskily, as the wounded bull calls upon + the unscathed herd to stay. Curiously enough, he used no bad language: + that had gone from him with the rest. The doctor exhibited gold. It was + taken and retained. So, too, was the grip on the coat-collar. + </p> + <p> + “If I could stand,” boomed the giant, despairingly, “I'd smash you—you + an' your drinks. I'm dyin'—dyin'—dyin'!” + </p> + <p> + “That's what you think,” said the doctor. “You'll find it will do you a + lot of good”; and, making a virtue of a somewhat imperative necessity, he + added: “I'll stay by you. If you'd let go of me a minute I'd give you + something that would settle you.” + </p> + <p> + “You've settled me now, you damned anarchist. Takin' the bread out of the + mouth of an English workin'man! But I'll keep 'old of you till I'm well or + dead. I never did you no 'arm. S'pose I were a little full. They pumped me + out once at Guy's with a stummick-pump. I could see that, but I can't see + this 'ere, an' it's killin' of me by slow degrees.” + </p> + <p> + “You'll be all right in half-an-hour. What do you suppose I'd want to kill + you for?” said the doctor, who came of a logical breed. + </p> + <p> + “'Ow do I know? Tell 'em in court. You'll get seven years for this, you + body-snatcher. That's what you are—a bloomin' bodysnatcher. There's + justice, I tell you, in England; and my Union'll prosecute, too. We don't + stand no tricks with people's insides 'ere. They give a woman ten years + for a sight less than this. An' you'll 'ave to pay 'undreds an' 'undreds + o' pounds, besides a pension to the missus. You'll see, you physickin' + furriner. Where's your licence to do such? You'll catch it, I tell you!” + </p> + <p> + Then I observed what I have frequently observed before, that a man who is + but reasonably afraid of an altercation with an alien has a most poignant + dread of the operations of foreign law. The doctor's voice was flute-like + in its exquisite politeness, as he answered: + </p> + <p> + “But I've given you a very great deal of money—fif-three pounds, I + think.” + </p> + <p> + “An' what's three pound for poisonin' the likes o' me? They told me at + Guy's I'd fetch twenty-cold-on the slates. Ouh! It's comin' again.” + </p> + <p> + A second time he was cut down by the foot, as it were, and the straining + bench rocked to and fro as I averted my eyes. + </p> + <p> + It was the very point of perfection in the heart of an English May-day. + The unseen tides of the air had turned, and all nature was setting its + face with the shadows of the horse-chestnuts towards the peace of the + coming night. But there were hours yet, I knew—long, long hours of + the eternal English twilight—to the ending of the day. I was well + content to be alive—to abandon myself to the drift of Time and Fate; + to absorb great peace through my skin, and to love my country with the + devotion that three thousand miles of intervening sea bring to fullest + flower. And what a garden of Eden it was, this fatted, clipped, and washen + land! A man could camp in any open field with more sense of home and + security than the stateliest buildings of foreign cities could afford. And + the joy was that it was all mine alienably—groomed hedgerow, + spotless road, decent greystone cottage, serried spinney, tasselled copse, + apple-bellied hawthorn, and well-grown tree. A light puff of wind—it + scattered flakes of may over the gleaming rails—gave me a faint + whiff as it might have been of fresh cocoanut, and I knew that the golden + gorse was in bloom somewhere out of sight. Linnaeus had thanked God on his + bended knees when he first saw a field of it; and, by the way, the navvy + was on his knees, too. But he was by no means praying. He was purely + disgustful. + </p> + <p> + The doctor was compelled to bend over him, his face towards the back of + the seat, and from what I had seen I supposed the navvy was now dead. If + that were the case it would be time for me to go; but I knew that so long + as a man trusts himself to the current of Circumstance, reaching out for + and rejecting nothing that comes his way, no harm can overtake him. It is + the contriver, the schemer, who is caught by the Law, and never the + philosopher. I knew that when the play was played, Destiny herself would + move me on from the corpse; and I felt very sorry for the doctor. + </p> + <p> + In the far distance, presumably upon the road that led to Framlynghame + Admiral, there appeared a vehicle and a horse—the one ancient fly + that almost every village can produce at need. This thing was advancing, + unpaid by me, towards the station; would have to pass along the deep-cut + lane, below the railway-bridge, and come out on the doctor's side. I was + in the centre of things, so all sides were alike to me. Here, then, was my + machine from the machine. When it arrived; something would happen, or + something else. For the rest, I owned my deeply interested soul. + </p> + <p> + The doctor, by the seat, turned so far as his cramped position allowed, + his head over his left shoulder, and laid his right hand upon his lips. I + threw back my hat and elevated my eyebrows in the form of a question. The + doctor shut his eyes and nodded his head slowly twice or thrice, beckoning + me to come. I descended cautiously, and it was as the signs had told. The + navvy was asleep, empty to the lowest notch; yet his hand clutched still + the doctor's collar, and at the lightest movement (the doctor was really + very cramped) tightened mechanically, as the hand of a sick woman tightens + on that of the watcher. He had dropped, squatting almost upon his heels, + and, falling lower, had dragged the doctor over to the left. + </p> + <p> + The doctor thrust his right hand, which was free, into his pocket, drew + forth some keys, and shook his head. The navvy gurgled in his sleep. + Silently I dived into my pocket, took out one sovereign, and held it up + between finger and thumb. Again the doctor shook his head. Money was not + what was lacking to his peace. His bag had fallen from the seat to the + ground. He looked towards it, and opened his mouth-O-shape. The catch was + not a difficult one, and when I had mastered it, the doctor's right + forefinger was sawing the air. With an immense caution, I extracted from + the bag such a knife as they use for cutting collops off legs. The doctor + frowned, and with his first and second fingers imitated the action of + scissors. Again I searched, and found a most diabolical pair of cock-nosed + shears, capable of vandyking the interiors of elephants. The doctor then + slowly lowered his left shoulder till the navvy's right wrist was + supported by the bench, pausing a moment as the spent volcano rumbled + anew. Lower and lower the doctor sank, kneeling now by the navvy's side, + till his head was on a level with, and just in front of, the great hairy + fist, and—there was no tension on the coat-collar. Then light dawned + on me. + </p> + <p> + Beginning a little to the right of the spinal column, I cut a huge + demilune out of his new spring overcoat, bringing it round as far under + his left side (which was the right side of the navvy) as I dared. Passing + thence swiftly to the back of the seat, and reaching between the splines, + I sawed through the silk-faced front on the left-hand side of the coat + till the two cuts joined. + </p> + <p> + Cautiously as the box-turtle of his native heath, the doctor drew away + sideways and to the right, with the air of a frustrated burglar coming out + from under a bed, and stood up free, one black diagonal shoulder + projecting through the grey of his ruined overcoat. I returned the + scissors to the bag, snapped the catch, and held all out to him as the + wheels of the fly rang hollow under the railway arch. + </p> + <p> + It came at a footpace past the wicket-gate of the station, and the doctor + stopped it with a whisper. It was going some five miles across country to + bring home from church some one,—I could not catch the name,—because + his own carriage-horses were lame. Its destination happened to be the one + place in all the world that the doctor was most burningly anxious to + visit, and he promised the driver untold gold to drive to some ancient + flame of his—Helen Blazes, she was called. + </p> + <p> + “Aren't you coming, too?” he said, bundling his overcoat into his bag. + </p> + <p> + Now the fly had been so obviously sent to the doctor, and to no one else, + that I had no concern with it. Our roads, I saw, divided, and there was, + further, a need upon me to laugh. + </p> + <p> + “I shall stay here,” I said. “It's a very pretty country.” + </p> + <p> + “My God!” he murmured, as softly as he shut the door, and I felt that it + was a prayer. + </p> + <p> + Then he went out of my life, and I shaped my course for the + railway-bridge. It was necessary to pass by the bench once more, but the + wicket was between us. The departure of the fly had waked the navvy. He + crawled on to the seat, and with malignant eyes watched the driver flog + down the road. + </p> + <p> + “The man inside o' that,” he called, “'as poisoned me. 'E's a + body-snatcher. 'E's comin' back again when I'm cold. 'Ere's my evidence!” + </p> + <p> + He waved his share of the overcoat, and I went my way, because I was + hungry. Framlynghame Admiral village is a good two miles from the station, + and I waked the holy calm of the evening every step of that way with + shouts and yells, casting myself down in the flank of the good green hedge + when I was too weak to stand. There was an inn,—a blessed inn with a + thatched roof, and peonies in the garden,—and I ordered myself an + upper chamber in which the Foresters held their courts for the laughter + was not all out of me. A bewildered woman brought me ham and eggs, and I + leaned out of the mullioned window, and laughed between mouthfuls. I sat + long above the beer and the perfect smoke that followed, till the lights + changed in the quiet street, and I began to think of the seven forty-five + down, and all that world of the “Arabian Nights” I had quitted. + </p> + <p> + Descending, I passed a giant in moleskins who filled the low-ceiled + tap-room. Many empty plates stood before him, and beyond them a fringe of + the Framlynghame Admiralty, to whom he was unfolding a wondrous tale of + anarchy, of body-snatching, of bribery, and the Valley of the Shadow from + the which he was but newly risen. And as he talked he ate, and as he ate + he drank, for there was much room in him; and anon he paid royally, + speaking of Justice and the Law, before whom all Englishmen are equal, and + all foreigners and anarchists vermin and slime. + </p> + <p> + On my way to the station, he passed me with great strides, his head high + among the low-flying bats, his feet firm on the packed road-metal, his + fists clinched, and his breath coming sharply. There was a beautiful smell + in the air—the smell of white dust, bruised nettles, and smoke, that + brings tears to the throat of a man who sees his country but seldom—a + smell like the echoes of the lost talk of lovers; the infinitely + suggestive odour of an immemorial civilisation. It was a perfect walk; + and, lingering on every step, I came to the station just as the one porter + lighted the last of a truckload of lamps, and set them back in the + lamp-room, while he dealt tickets to four or five of the population who, + not contented with their own peace, thought fit to travel. It was no + ticket that the navvy seemed to need. He was sitting on a bench, + wrathfully grinding a tumbler into fragments with his heel. I abode in + obscurity at the end of the platform, interested as ever, thank Heaven, in + my surroundings. There was a jar of wheels on the road. The navvy rose as + they approached, strode through the wicket, and laid a hand upon a horse's + bridle that brought the beast up on his hireling hind legs. It was the + providential fly coming back, and for a moment I wondered whether the + doctor had been mad enough to revisit his practice. + </p> + <p> + “Get away; you're drunk,” said the driver. + </p> + <p> + “I'm not,” said the navvy. “I've been waitin' 'ere hours and hours. Come + out, you beggar inside there!” + </p> + <p> + “Go on, driver,” said a voice I did not know—a crisp, clear, English + voice. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said the navvy. “You wouldn't 'ear me when I was polite. Now + will you come?” + </p> + <p> + There was a chasm in the side of the fly, for he had wrenched the door + bodily off its hinges, and was feeling within purposefully. A well-booted + leg rewarded him, and there came out, not with delight, hopping on one + foot, a round and grey-haired Englishman, from whose armpits dropped + hymn-books, but from his mouth an altogether different service of song. + </p> + <p> + “Come on, you bloomin' body-snatcher! You thought I was dead, did you?” + roared the navvy. And the respectable gentleman came accordingly, + inarticulate with rage. + </p> + <p> + “Ere's a man murderin' the Squire,” the driver shouted, and fell from his + box upon the navvy's neck. + </p> + <p> + To do them justice, the people of Framlynghame Admiral, so many as were on + the platform, rallied to the call in the best spirit of feudalism. It was + the one porter who beat the navvy on the nose with a ticket-punch, but it + was the three third-class tickets who attached themselves to his legs and + freed the captive. + </p> + <p> + “Send for a constable! lock him up!” said that man, adjusting his collar; + and unitedly they cast him into the lamp-room, and turned the key, while + the driver mourned over the wrecked fly. + </p> + <p> + Till then the navvy, whose only desire was justice, had kept his temper + nobly. Then he went Berserk before our amazed eyes. The door of the + lamp-room was generously constructed, and would not give an inch, but the + window he tore from its fastenings and hurled outwards. The one porter + counted the damage in a loud voice, and the others, arming themselves with + agricultural implements from the station garden, kept up a ceaseless + winnowing before the window, themselves backed close to the wall, and bade + the prisoner think of the gaol. He answered little to the point, so far as + they could understand; but seeing that his exit was impeded, he took a + lamp and hurled it through the wrecked sash. It fell on the metals and + went out. With inconceivable velocity, the others, fifteen in all, + followed, looking like rockets in the gloom, and with the last (he could + have had no plan) the Berserk rage left him as the doctor's deadly brewage + waked up, under the stimulus of violent exercise and a very full meal, to + one last cataclysmal exhibition, and—we heard the whistle of the + seven forty-five down. + </p> + <p> + They were all acutely interested in as much of the wreck as they could + see, for the station smelt to Heaven of oil, and the engine skittered over + broken glass like a terrier in a cucumber-frame. The guard had to hear of + it, and the Squire had his version of the brutal assault, and heads were + out all along the carriages as I found me a seat. + </p> + <p> + “What is the row?” said a young man, as I entered. “'Man drunk?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, the symptoms, so far as my observation has gone, more resemble + those of Asiatic cholera than anything else,” I answered, slowly and + judicially, that every word might carry weight in the appointed scheme of + things. Up till then, you will observe, I had taken no part in that war. + </p> + <p> + He was an Englishman, but he collected his belongings as swiftly as had + the American, ages before, and leaped upon the platform, crying: “Can I be + of any service? I'm a doctor.” + </p> + <p> + From the lamp-room I heard a wearied voice wailing “Another bloomin' + doctor!” + </p> + <p> + And the seven forty-five carried me on, a step nearer to Eternity, by the + road that is worn and seamed and channelled with the passions, and + weaknesses, and warring interests of man who is immortal and master of his + fate. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE BRUSHWOOD BOY + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Girls and boys, come out to play + The moon is shining as bright as day! + Leave your supper and leave your sleep, + And come with your playfellows out in the street! + Up the ladder and down the wall— +</pre> + <p> + A CHILD of three sat up in his crib and screamed at the top of his voice, + his fists clinched and his eyes full of terror. At first no one heard, for + his nursery was in the west wing, and the nurse was talking to a gardener + among the laurels. Then the housekeeper passed that way, and hurried to + soothe him. He was her special pet, and she disapproved of the nurse. + </p> + <p> + “What was it, then? What was it, then? There's nothing to frighten him, + Georgie dear.” + </p> + <p> + “It was—it was a policeman! He was on the Down—I saw him! He + came in. Jane said he would.” + </p> + <p> + “Policemen don't come into houses, dearie. Turn over, and take my hand.” + </p> + <p> + “I saw him—on the Down. He came here. Where is your hand, Harper?” + </p> + <p> + The housekeeper waited till the sobs changed to the regular breathing of + sleep before she stole out. + </p> + <p> + “Jane, what nonsense have you been telling Master Georgie about + policemen?” + </p> + <p> + “I haven't told him anything.” + </p> + <p> + “You have. He's been dreaming about them.” + </p> + <p> + “We met Tisdall on Dowhead when we were in the donkey-cart this morning. + P'r'aps that's what put it into his head.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Now you aren't going to frighten the child into fits with your silly + tales, and the master know nothing about it. If ever I catch you again,” + etc. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + A child of six was telling himself stories as he lay in bed. It was a new + power, and he kept it a secret. A month before it had occurred to him to + carry on a nursery tale left unfinished by his mother, and he was + delighted to find the tale as it came out of his own head just as + surprising as though he were listening to it “all new from the beginning.” + There was a prince in that tale, and he killed dragons, but only for one + night. Ever afterwards Georgie dubbed himself prince, pasha, giant-killer, + and all the rest (you see, he could not tell any one, for fear of being + laughed at), and his tales faded gradually into dreamland, where + adventures were so many that he could not recall the half of them. They + all began in the same way, or, as Georgie explained to the shadows of the + night-light, there was “the same starting-off place”—a pile of + brushwood stacked somewhere near a beach; and round this pile Georgie + found himself running races with little boys and girls. These ended, ships + ran high up the dry land and opened into cardboard boxes; or + gilt-and-green iron railings that surrounded beautiful gardens turned all + soft and could be walked through and overthrown so long as he remembered + it was only a dream. He could never hold that knowledge more than a few + seconds ere things became real, and instead of pushing down houses full of + grown-up people (a just revenge), he sat miserably upon gigantic + door-steps trying to sing the multiplication-table up to four times six. + </p> + <p> + The princess of his tales was a person of wonderful beauty (she came from + the old illustrated edition of Grimm, now out of print), and as she always + applauded Georgie's valour among the dragons and buffaloes, he gave her + the two finest names he had ever heard in his life—Annie and Louise, + pronounced “Annieanlouise.” When the dreams swamped the stories, she would + change into one of the little girls round the brushwood-pile, still + keeping her title and crown. She saw Georgie drown once in a dream-sea by + the beach (it was the day after he had been taken to bathe in a real sea + by his nurse); and he said as he sank: “Poor Annieanlouise! She'll be + sorry for me now!” But “Annieanlouise,” walking slowly on the beach, + called, “'Ha! ha!' said the duck, laughing,” which to a waking mind might + not seem to bear on the situation. It consoled Georgie at once, and must + have been some kind of spell, for it raised the bottom of the deep, and he + waded out with a twelve-inch flower-pot on each foot. As he was strictly + forbidden to meddle with flower-pots in real life, he felt triumphantly + wicked. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + The movements of the grown-ups, whom Georgie tolerated, but did not + pretend to understand, removed his world, when he was seven years old, to + a place called “Oxford-on-a-visit. “Here were huge buildings surrounded by + vast prairies, with streets of infinite length, and, above all, something + called the “buttery,” which Georgie was dying to see, because he knew it + must be greasy, and therefore delightful. He perceived how correct were + his judgments when his nurse led him through a stone arch into the + presence of an enormously fat man, who asked him if he would like some, + bread and cheese. Georgie was used to eat all round the clock, so he took + what “buttery” gave him, and would have taken some brown liquid called + “auditale” but that his nurse led him away to an afternoon performance of + a thing called “Pepper's Ghost.” This was intensely thrilling. People's + heads came off and flew all over the stage, and skeletons danced bone by + bone, while Mr. Pepper himself, beyond question a man of the worst, waved + his arms and flapped a long gown, and in a deep bass voice (Georgie had + never heard a man sing before) told of his sorrows unspeakable. Some + grown-up or other tried to explain that the illusion was made with + mirrors, and that there was no need to be frightened. Georgie did not know + what illusions were, but he did know that a mirror was the looking-glass + with the ivory handle on his mother's dressing-table. Therefore the + “grown-up” was “just saying things” after the distressing custom of + “grown-ups,” and Georgie cast about for amusement between scenes. Next to + him sat a little girl dressed all in black, her hair combed off her + forehead exactly like the girl in the book called “Alice in Wonderland,” + which had been given him on his last birthday. The little girl looked at + Georgie, and Georgie looked at her. There seemed to be no need of any + further introduction. + </p> + <p> + “I've got a cut on my thumb,” said he. It was the first work of his first + real knife, a savage triangular hack, and he esteemed it a most valuable + possession. + </p> + <p> + “I'm tho thorry!” she lisped. “Let me look pleathe.” + </p> + <p> + “There's a di-ack-lum plaster on, but it's all raw under,” Georgie + answered, complying. + </p> + <p> + “Dothent it hurt?”—her grey eyes were full of pity and interest. + </p> + <p> + “Awf'ly. Perhaps it will give me lockjaw.” + </p> + <p> + “It lookth very horrid. I'm tho thorry!” She put a forefinger to his hand, + and held her head sidewise for a better view. + </p> + <p> + Here the nurse turned, and shook him severely. “You mustn't talk to + strange little girls, Master Georgie.” + </p> + <p> + “She isn't strange. She's very nice. I like her, an' I've showed her my + new cut.” + </p> + <p> + “The idea! You change places with me.” + </p> + <p> + She moved him over, and shut out the little girl from his view, while the + grown-up behind renewed the futile explanations. + </p> + <p> + “I am not afraid, truly,” said the boy, wriggling in despair; “but why + don't you go to sleep in the afternoons, same as Provost of Oriel?” + </p> + <p> + Georgie had been introduced to a grown-up of that name, who slept in his + presence without apology. Georgie understood that he was the most + important grown-up in Oxford; hence he strove to gild his rebuke with + flatteries. This grown-up did not seem to like it, but he collapsed, and + Georgie lay back in his seat, silent and enraptured. Mr. Pepper was + singing again, and the deep, ringing voice, the red fire, and the misty, + waving gown all seemed to be mixed up with the little girl who had been so + kind about his cut. When the performance was ended she nodded to Georgie, + and Georgie nodded in return. He spoke no more than was necessary till + bedtime, but meditated on new colors and sounds and lights and music and + things as far as he understood them; the deep-mouthed agony of Mr. Pepper + mingling with the little girl's lisp. That night he made a new tale, from + which he shamelessly removed the Rapunzel-Rapunzel-let-down-your-hair + princess, gold crown, Grimm edition, and all, and put a new Annieanlouise + in her place. So it was perfectly right and natural that when he came to + the brushwood-pile he should find her waiting for him, her hair combed off + her forehead more like Alice in Wonderland than ever, and the races and + adventures began. + </p> + <p> + Ten years at an English public school do not encourage dreaming. Georgie + won his growth and chest measurement, and a few other things which did not + appear in the bills, under a system of cricket, foot-ball, and + paper-chases, from four to five days a week, which provided for three + lawful cuts of a ground-ash if any boy absented himself from these + entertainments. He became a rumple-collared, dusty-hatted fag of the Lower + Third, and a light half-back at Little Side foot-ball; was pushed and + prodded through the slack backwaters of the Lower Fourth, where the raffle + of a school generally accumulates; won his “second-fifteen” cap at + foot-ball, enjoyed the dignity of a study with two companions in it, and + began to look forward to office as a sub-prefect. At last he blossomed + into full glory as head of the school, ex-officio captain of the games; + head of his house, where he and his lieutenants preserved discipline and + decency among seventy boys from twelve to seventeen; general arbiter in + the quarrels that spring up among the touchy Sixth—and intimate + friend and ally of the Head himself. When he stepped forth in the black + jersey, white knickers, and black stockings of the First Fifteen, the new + match-ball under his arm, and his old and frayed cap at the back of his + head, the small fry of the lower forms stood apart and worshipped, and the + “new caps” of the team talked to him ostentatiously, that the world might + see. And so, in summer, when he came back to the pavilion after a slow but + eminently safe game, it mattered not whether he had made nothing or, as + once happened, a hundred and three, the school shouted just the same, and + women-folk who had come to look at the match looked at Cottar—Cottar, + major; “that's Cottar!” Above all, he was responsible for that thing + called the tone of the school, and few realise with what passionate + devotion a certain type of boy throws himself into this work. Home was a + faraway country, full of ponies and fishing and shooting, and men-visitors + who interfered with one's plans; but school was the real world, where + things of vital importance happened, and crises arose that must be dealt + with promptly and quietly. Not for nothing was it written, “Let the + Consuls look to it that the Republic takes no harm,” and Georgie was glad + to be back in authority when the holidays ended. Behind him, but not too + near, was the wise and temperate Head, now suggesting the wisdom of the + serpent, now counselling the mildness of the dove; leading him on to see, + more by half-hints than by any direct word, how boys and men are all of a + piece, and how he who can handle the one will assuredly in time control + the other. + </p> + <p> + For the rest, the school was not encouraged to dwell on its emotions, but + rather to keep in hard condition, to avoid false quantities, and to enter + the army direct, without the help of the expensive London crammer, under + whose roof young blood learns too much. Cottar, major, went the way of + hundreds before him. The Head gave him six months' final polish, taught + him what kind of answers best please a certain kind of examiners, and + handed him over to the properly constituted authorities, who passed him + into Sandhurst. Here he had sense enough to see that he was in the Lower + Third once more, and behaved with respect toward his seniors, till they in + turn respected him, and he was promoted to the rank of corporal, and sat + in authority over mixed peoples with all the vices of men and boys + combined. His reward was another string of athletic cups, a good-conduct + sword, and, at last, Her Majesty's commission as a subaltern in a + first-class line regiment. He did not know that he bore with him from + school and college a character worth much fine gold, but was pleased to + find his mess so kindly. He had plenty of money of his own; his training + had set the public school mask upon his face, and had taught him how many + were the “things no fellow can do.” By virtue of the same training he kept + his pores open and his mouth shut. + </p> + <p> + The regular working of the Empire shifted his world to India, where he + tasted utter loneliness in subaltern's quarters,—one room and one + bullock-trunk,—and, with his mess, learned the new life from the + beginning. But there were horses in the land-ponies at reasonable price; + there was polo for such as could afford it; there were the disreputable + remnants of a pack of hounds; and Cottar worried his way along without too + much despair. It dawned on him that a regiment in India was nearer the + chance of active service than he had conceived, and that a man might as + well study his profession. A major of the new school backed this idea with + enthusiasm, and he and Cottar accumulated a library of military works, and + read and argued and disputed far into the nights. But the adjutant said + the old thing: “Get to know your men, young un, and they 'll follow you + anywhere. That's all you want—know your men.” Cottar thought he knew + them fairly well at cricket and the regimental sports, but he never + realised the true inwardness of them till he was sent off with a + detachment of twenty to sit down in a mud fort near a rushing river which + was spanned by a bridge of boats. When the floods came they went forth and + hunted strayed pontoons along the banks. Otherwise there was nothing to + do, and the men got drunk, gambled, and quarrelled. They were a sickly + crew, for a junior subaltern is by custom saddled with the worst men. + Cottar endured their rioting as long as he could, and then sent + down-country for a dozen pairs of boxing-gloves. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't blame you for fightin',” said he, “if you only knew how to use + your hands; but you don't. Take these things, and I'll show you.” The men + appreciated his efforts. Now, instead of blaspheming and swearing at a + comrade, and threatening to shoot him, they could take him apart, and + soothe themselves to exhaustion. As one explained whom Cottar found with a + shut eye and a diamond-shaped mouth spitting blood through an embrasure: + “We tried it with the gloves, sir, for twenty minutes, and that done us no + good, sir. Then we took off the gloves and tried it that way for another + twenty minutes, same as you showed us, sir, an' that done us a world o' + good. 'T wasn't fightin', sir; there was a bet on.” + </p> + <p> + Cottar dared not laugh, but he invited his men to other sports, such as + racing across country in shirt and trousers after a trail of torn paper, + and to single-stick in the evenings, till the native population, who had a + lust for sport in every form, wished to know whether the white men + understood wrestling. They sent in an ambassador, who took the soldiers by + the neck and threw them about the dust; and the entire command were all + for this new game. They spent money on learning new falls and holds, which + was better than buying other doubtful commodities; and the peasantry + grinned five deep round the tournaments. + </p> + <p> + That detachment, who had gone up in bullock-carts, returned to + headquarters at an average rate of thirty miles a day, fair heel-and-toe; + no sick, no prisoners, and no court martials pending. They scattered + themselves among their friends, singing the praises of their lieutenant + and looking for causes of offense. + </p> + <p> + “How did you do it, young un?” the adjutant asked. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I sweated the beef off 'em, and then I sweated some muscle on to 'em. + It was rather a lark.” + </p> + <p> + “If that's your way of lookin' at it, we can give you all the larks you + want. Young Davies isn't feelin' quite fit, and he's next for detachment + duty. Care to go for him?” + </p> + <p> + “'Sure he wouldn't mind? I don't want to shove myself forward, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “You needn't bother on Davies's account. We'll give you the sweepin's of + the corps, and you can see what you can make of 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Cottar. “It's better fun than loafin' about + cantonments.” + </p> + <p> + “Rummy thing,” said the adjutant, after Cottar had returned to his + wilderness with twenty other devils worse than the first. “If Cottar only + knew it, half the women in the station would give their eyes—confound + 'em!—to have the young un in tow.” + </p> + <p> + “That accounts for Mrs. Elery sayin' I was workin' my nice new boy too + hard,” said a wing commander. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes; and 'Why doesn't he come to the bandstand in the evenings?' and + 'Can't I get him to make up a four at tennis with the Hammon girls?'” the + adjutant snorted. “Look at young Davies makin' an ass of himself over + mutton-dressed-as-lamb old enough to be his mother!” + </p> + <p> + “No one can accuse young Cottar of runnin' after women, white or black,” + the major replied thoughtfully. “But, then, that's the kind that generally + goes the worst mucker in the end.” + </p> + <p> + “Not Cottar. I've only run across one of his muster before—a fellow + called Ingles, in South Africa. He was just the same hard trained, + athletic-sports build of animal. Always kept himself in the pink of + condition. Didn't do him much good, though. 'Shot at Wesselstroom the week + before Majuba. Wonder how the young un will lick his detachment into + shape.” + </p> + <p> + Cottar turned up six weeks later, on foot, with his pupils. He never told + his experiences, but the men spoke enthusiastically, and fragments of it + leaked back to the colonel through sergeants, batmen, and the like. + </p> + <p> + There was great jealousy between the first and second detachments, but the + men united in adoring Cottar, and their way of showing it was by sparing + him all the trouble that men know how to make for an unloved officer. He + sought popularity as little as he had sought it at school, and therefore + it came to him. He favoured no one—not even when the company sloven + pulled the company cricket-match out of the fire with an unexpected + forty-three at the last moment. There was very little getting round him, + for he seemed to know by instinct exactly when and where to head off a + malingerer; but he did not forget that the difference between a dazed and + sulky junior of the upper school and a bewildered, browbeaten lump of a + private fresh from the depot was very small indeed. The sergeants, seeing + these things, told him secrets generally hid from young officers. His + words were quoted as barrack authority on bets in canteen and at tea; and + the veriest shrew of the corps, bursting with charges against other women + who had used the cooking-ranges out of turn, forbore to speak when Cottar, + as the regulations ordained, asked of a morning if there were “any + complaints.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm full o' complaints,” said Mrs. Corporal Morrison, “an' I'd kill + O'Halloran's fat sow of a wife any day, but ye know how it is. 'E puts 'is + head just inside the door, an' looks down 'is blessed nose so bashful, an' + 'e whispers, 'Any complaints' Ye can't complain after that. I want to kiss + him. Some day I think I will. Heigh-ho! she'll be a lucky woman that gets + Young Innocence. See 'im now, girls. Do ye blame me?” + </p> + <p> + Cottar was cantering across to polo, and he looked a very satisfactory + figure of a man as he gave easily to the first excited bucks of his pony, + and slipped over a low mud wall to the practice-ground. There were more + than Mrs. Corporal Morrison who felt as she did. But Cottar was busy for + eleven hours of the day. He did not care to have his tennis spoiled by + petticoats in the court; and after one long afternoon at a garden-party, + he explained to his major that this sort of thing was “futile piffle,” + and the major laughed. Theirs was not a married mess, except for the + colonel's wife, and Cottar stood in awe of the good lady. She said “my + regiment,” and the world knows what that means. None the less when they + wanted her to give away the prizes after a shooting-match, and she refused + because one of the prize-winners was married to a girl who had made a jest + of her behind her broad back, the mess ordered Cottar to “tackle her,” in + his best calling-kit. This he did, simply and laboriously, and she gave + way altogether. + </p> + <p> + “She only wanted to know the facts of the case,” he explained. “I just + told her, and she saw at once.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye-es,” said the adjutant. “I expect that's what she did. Comin' to the + Fusiliers' dance to-night, Galahad?” + </p> + <p> + “No, thanks. I've got a fight on with the major.” The virtuous apprentice + sat up till midnight in the major's quarters, with a stop-watch and a pair + of compasses, shifting little painted lead-blocks about a four-inch map. + </p> + <p> + Then he turned in and slept the sleep of innocence, which is full of + healthy dreams. One peculiarity of his dreams he noticed at the beginning + of his second hot weather. Two or three times a month they duplicated or + ran in series. He would find himself sliding into dreamland by the same + road—a road that ran along a beach near a pile of brushwood. To the + right lay the sea, sometimes at full tide, sometimes withdrawn to the very + horizon; but he knew it for the same sea. By that road he would travel + over a swell of rising ground covered with short, withered grass, into + valleys of wonder and unreason. Beyond the ridge, which was crowned with + some sort of street-lamp, anything was possible; but up to the lamp it + seemed to him that he knew the road as well as he knew the parade-ground. + He learned to look forward to the place; for, once there, he was sure of a + good night's rest, and Indian hot weather can be rather trying. First, + shadowy under closing eyelids, would come the outline of the + brushwood-pile; next the white sand of the beach-road, almost overhanging + the black, changeful sea; then the turn inland and uphill to the single + light. When he was unrestful for any reason, he would tell himself how he + was sure to get there—sure to get there—if he shut his eyes + and surrendered to the drift of things. But one night after a foolishly + hard hour's polo (the thermometer was 94° in his quarters at ten o'clock), + sleep stood away from him altogether, though he did his best to find the + well-known road, the point where true sleep began. At last he saw the + brushwood-pile, and hurried along to the ridge, for behind him he felt was + the wide-awake, sultry world. He reached the lamp in safety, tingling with + drowsiness, when a policeman—a common country policeman—sprang + up before him and touched him on the shoulder ere he could dive into the + dim valley below. He was filled with terror,—the hopeless terror of + dreams,—for the policeman said, in the awful, distinct voice of + dream-people, “I am Policeman Day coming back from the City of Sleep. You + come with me.” Georgie knew it was true—that just beyond him in the + valley lay the lights of the City of Sleep, where he would have been + sheltered, and that this Policeman-Thing had full power and authority to + head him back to miserable wakefulness. He found himself looking at the + moonlight on the wall, dripping with fright; and he never overcame that + horror, though he met the Policeman several times that hot weather, and + his coming was the forerunner of a bad night. + </p> + <p> + But other dreams-perfectly absurd ones-filled him with an incommunicable + delight. All those that he remembered began by the brushwood-pile. For + instance, he found a small clockwork steamer (he had noticed it many + nights before) lying by the sea-road, and stepped into it, whereupon it + moved with surpassing swiftness over an absolutely level sea. This was + glorious, for he felt he was exploring great matters; and it stopped by a + lily carved in stone, which, most naturally, floated on the water. Seeing + the lily was labelled “Hong-Kong,” Georgie said: “Of course. This is + precisely what I expected Hong-Kong would be like. How magnificent!” + Thousands of miles farther on it halted at yet another stone lily, + labelled “Java.”; and this, again, delighted him hugely, because he knew + that now he was at the world's end. But the little boat ran on and on till + it lay in a deep fresh-water lock, the sides of which were carven marble, + green with moss. Lilypads lay on the water, and reeds arched above. Some + one moved among the reeds—some one whom Georgie knew he had + travelled to this world's end to reach. Therefore everything was entirely + well with him. He was unspeakably happy, and vaulted over the ship's side + to find this person. When his feet touched that still water, it changed, + with the rustle of unrolling maps, to nothing less than a sixth quarter of + the globe, beyond the most remote imagining of man—a place where + islands were coloured yellow and blue, their lettering strung across their + faces. They gave on unknown seas, and Georgie's urgent desire was to + return swiftly across this floating atlas to known bearings. He told + himself repeatedly that it was no good to hurry; but still he hurried + desperately, and the islands slipped and slid under his feet; the straits + yawned and widened, till he found himself utterly lost in the world's + fourth dimension, with no hope of return. Yet only a little distance away + he could see the old world with the rivers and mountain-chains marked + according to the Sandhurst rules of mapmaking. Then that person for whom + he had come to the Lily Lock (that was its name) ran up across unexplored + territories, and showed him away. They fled hand in hand till they reached + a road that spanned ravines, and ran along the edge of precipices, and was + tunnelled through mountains. “This goes to our brushwood-pile,” said his + companion; and all his trouble was at an end. He took a pony, because he + understood that this was the Thirty-Mile Ride and he must ride swiftly, + and raced through the clattering tunnels and round the curves, always + downhill, till he heard the sea to his left, and saw it raging under a + full moon, against sandy cliffs. It was heavy going, but he recognised the + nature of the country, the dark-purple downs inland, and the bents that + whistled in the wind. The road was eaten away in places, and the sea + lashed at him-black, foamless tongues of smooth and glossy rollers; but he + was sure that there was less danger from the sea than from “Them,” whoever + “They” were, inland to his right. He knew, too, that he would be safe if + he could reach the down with the lamp on it. This came as he expected: he + saw the one light a mile ahead along the beach, dismounted, turned to the + right, walked quietly over to the brushwood-pile, found the little steamer + had returned to the beach whence he had unmoored it, and—must have + fallen asleep, for he could remember no more. “I'm gettin' the hang of the + geography of that place,” he said to himself, as he shaved next morning. + “I must have made some sort of circle. Let's see. The Thirty-Mile Ride + (now how the deuce did I know it was called the Thirty-Mile, Ride?) joins + the sea-road beyond the first down where the lamp is. And that + atlas-country lies at the back of the Thirty-Mile Ride, somewhere out to + the right beyond the hills and tunnels. Rummy things, dreams. 'Wonder what + makes mine fit into each other so?” + </p> + <p> + He continued on his solid way through the recurring duties of the seasons. + The regiment was shifted to another station, and he enjoyed road-marching + for two months, with a good deal of mixed shooting thrown in, and when + they reached their new cantonments he became a member of the local Tent + Club, and chased the mighty boar on horseback with a short stabbing-spear. + There he met the mahseer of the Poonch, beside whom the tarpon is as a + herring, and he who lands him can say that he is a fisherman. This was as + new and as fascinating as the big-game shooting that fell to his portion, + when he had himself photographed for the mother's benefit, sitting on the + flank of his first tiger. + </p> + <p> + Then the adjutant was promoted, and Cottar rejoiced with him, for he + admired the adjutant greatly, and marvelled who might be big enough to + fill his place; so that he nearly collapsed when the mantle fell on his + own shoulders, and the colonel said a few sweet things that made him + blush. An adjutant's position does not differ materially from that of head + of the school, and Cottar stood in the same relation to the colonel as he + had to his old Head in England. Only, tempers wear out in hot weather, and + things were said and done that tried him sorely, and he made glorious + blunders, from which the regimental sergeant-major pulled him with a loyal + soul and a shut mouth. Slovens and incompetents raged against him; the + weak-minded strove to lure him from the ways of justice; the small-minded—yea, + men whom Cottar believed would never do “things no fellow can do”—imputed + motives mean and circuitous to actions that he had not spent a thought + upon; and he tasted injustice, and it made him very sick. But his + consolation came on parade, when he looked down the full companies, and + reflected how few were in hospital or cells, and wondered when the time + would come to try the machine of his love and labour. + </p> + <p> + But they needed and expected the whole of a man's working-day, and maybe + three or four hours of the night. Curiously enough, he never dreamed about + the regiment as he was popularly supposed to. The mind, set free from the + day's doings, generally ceased working altogether, or, if it moved at all, + carried him along the old beach-road to the downs, the lamp-post, and, + once in a while, to terrible Policeman Day. The second time that he + returned to the world's lost continent (this was a dream that repeated + itself again and again, with variations, on the same ground) he knew that + if he only sat still the person from the Lily Lock would help him, and he + was not disappointed. Sometimes he was trapped in mines of vast depth + hollowed out of the heart of the world, where men in torment chanted + echoing songs; and he heard this person coming along through the + galleries, and everything was made safe and delightful. They met again in + low-roofed Indian railway-carriages that halted in a garden surrounded by + gilt-and-green railings, where a mob of stony white people, all + unfriendly, sat at breakfast-tables covered with roses, and separated + Georgie from his companion, while underground voices sang deep-voiced + songs. Georgie was filled with enormous despair till they two met again. + They foregathered in the middle of an endless, hot tropic night, and crept + into a huge house that stood, he knew, somewhere north of the + railway-station where the people ate among the roses. It was surrounded + with gardens, all moist and dripping; and in one room, reached through + leagues of whitewashed passages, a Sick Thing lay in bed. Now the least + noise, Georgie knew, would unchain some waiting horror, and his companion + knew it, too; but when their eyes met across the bed, Georgie was + disgusted to see that she was a child—a little girl in strapped + shoes, with her black hair combed back from her forehead. + </p> + <p> + “What disgraceful folly!” he thought. “Now she could do nothing whatever + if Its head came off.” + </p> + <p> + Then the Thing coughed, and the ceiling shattered down in plaster on the + mosquito-netting, and “They” rushed in from all quarters. He dragged the + child through the stifling garden, voices chanting behind them, and they + rode the Thirty-Mile Ride under whip and spur along the sandy beach by the + booming sea, till they came to the downs, the lamp-post, and the + brushwood-pile, which was safety. Very often dreams would break up about + them in this fashion, and they would be separated, to endure awful + adventures alone. But the most amusing times were when he and she had a + clear understanding that it was all make-believe, and walked through + mile-wide roaring rivers without even taking off their shoes, or set light + to populous cities to see how they would burn, and were rude as any + children to the vague shadows met in their rambles. Later in the night + they were sure to suffer for this, either at the hands of the Railway + People eating among the roses, or in the tropic uplands at the far end of + the Thirty-Mile Ride. Together, this did no much affright them; but often + Georgie would hear her shrill cry of “Boy! Boy!” half a world away, and + hurry to her rescue before “They” maltreated her. + </p> + <p> + He and she explored the dark-purple downs as far inland from the + brushwood-pile as they dared, but that was always a dangerous matter. The + interior was filled with “Them,” and “They” went about singing in the + hollows, and Georgie and she felt safer on or near the seaboard. So + thoroughly had he come to know the place of his dreams that even waking he + accepted it as a real country, and made a rough sketch of it. He kept his + own counsel, of course; but the permanence of the land puzzled him. His + ordinary dreams were as formless and as fleeting as any healthy dreams + could be, but once at the brushwood-pile he moved within known limits and + could see where he was going. There were months at a time when nothing + notable crossed his sleep. Then the dreams would come in a batch of five + or six, and next morning the map that he kept in his writing case would be + written up to date, for Georgie was a most methodical person. There was, + indeed, a danger—his seniors said so—of his developing into a + regular “Auntie Fuss” of an adjutant, and when an officer once takes to + old-maidism there is more hope for the virgin of seventy than for him. + </p> + <p> + But fate sent the change that was needed, in the shape of a little winter + campaign on the Border, which, after the manner of little campaigns, + flashed out into a very ugly war; and Cottar's regiment was chosen among + the first. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said a major, “this'll shake the cobwebs out of us all—especially + you, Galahad; and we can see what your hen-with-one-chick attitude has + done for the regiment.” + </p> + <p> + Cottar nearly wept with joy as the campaign went forward. They were fit—physically + fit beyond the other troops; they were good children in camp, wet or dry, + fed or unfed; and they followed their officers with the quick suppleness + and trained obedience of a first-class foot-ball fifteen. They were cut + off from their apology for a base, and cheerfully cut their way back to it + again; they crowned and cleaned out hills full of the enemy with the + precision of well-broken dogs of chase; and in the hour of retreat, when, + hampered with the sick and wounded of the column, they were persecuted + down eleven miles of waterless valley, they, serving as rearguard, covered + themselves with a great glory in the eyes of fellow-professionals. Any + regiment can advance, but few know how to retreat with a sting in the + tail. Then they turned to made roads, most often under fire, and + dismantled some inconvenient mud redoubts. They were the last corps to be + withdrawn when the rubbish of the campaign was all swept up; and after a + month in standing camp, which tries morals severely, they departed to + their own place in column of fours, singing: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “'E's goin' to do without 'em— + Don't want 'em any more; + 'E's goin' to do without 'em, + As 'e's often done before. + 'E's goin' to be a martyr + On a 'ighly novel plan, + An' all the boys and girls will say, + 'Ow! what a nice young man-man-man! + Ow! what a nice young man!'” + </pre> + <p> + There came out a “Gazette” in which Cottar found that he had been behaving + with “courage and coolness and discretion” in all his capacities; that he + had assisted the wounded under fire, and blown in a gate, also under fire. + Net result, his captaincy and a brevet majority, coupled with the + Distinguished Service Order. + </p> + <p> + As to his wounded, he explained that they were both heavy men, whom he + could lift more easily than any one else. “Otherwise, of course, I should + have sent out one of my men; and, of course, about that gate business, we + were safe the minute we were well under the walls.” But this did not + prevent his men from cheering him furiously whenever they saw him, or the + mess from giving him a dinner on the eve of his departure to England. (A + year's leave was among the things he had “snaffled out of the campaign,” I + to use his own words.) The doctor, who had taken quite as much as was good + for him, quoted poetry about “a good blade carving the casques of men,” + and so on, and everybody told Cottar that he was an excellent person; but + when he rose to make his maiden speech they shouted so that he was + understood to say, “It isn't any use tryin' to speak with you chaps + rottin' me like this. Let's have some pool.” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + It is not unpleasant to spend eight-and-twenty days in an easy-going + steamer on warm waters, in the company of a woman who lets you see that + you are head and shoulders superior to the rest of the world, even though + that woman may be, and most often is, ten counted years your senior. P.O. + boats are not lighted with the disgustful particularity of Atlantic + liners. There is more phosphorescence at the bows, and greater silence and + darkness by the hand-steering gear aft. + </p> + <p> + Awful things might have happened to Georgie but for the little fact that + he had never studied the first principles of the game he was expected to + play. So when Mrs. Zuleika, at Aden, told him how motherly an interest she + felt in his welfare, medals, brevet, and all, Georgie took her at the foot + of the letter, and promptly talked of his own mother, three hundred miles + nearer each day, of his home, and so forth, all the way up the Red Sea. It + was much easier than he had supposed to converse with a woman for an hour + at a time. Then Mrs. Zuleika, turning from parental affection, spoke of + love in the abstract as a thing not unworthy of study, and in discreet + twilights after dinner demanded confidences. Georgie would have been + delighted to supply them, but he had none, and did not know it was his + duty to manufacture them. Mrs. Zuleika expressed surprise and unbelief, + and asked—those questions which deep asks of deep. She learned all + that was necessary to conviction, and, being very much a woman, resumed + (Georgie never knew that she had abandoned) the motherly attitude. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know,” she said, somewhere in the Mediterranean, “I think you're + the very dearest boy I have ever met in my life, and I'd like you to + remember me a little. You will when you are older, but I want you to + remember me now. You'll make some girl very happy.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Hope so,” said Georgie, gravely; “but there's heaps of time for + marryin' an' all that sort of thing, ain't there?” + </p> + <p> + “That depends. Here are your bean-bags for the Ladies' Competition. I + think I'm growing too old to care for these tamashas.” + </p> + <p> + They were getting up sports, and Georgie was on the committee. He never + noticed how perfectly the bags were sewn, but another woman did, and + smiled—once. He liked Mrs. Zuleika greatly. She was a bit old, of + course, but uncommonly nice. There was no nonsense about her. + </p> + <p> + A few nights after they passed Gibraltar his dream returned to him. She + who waited by the brushwood-pile was no longer a little girl, but a woman + with black hair that grew into a “widow's peak,” combed back from her + forehead. He knew her for the child in black, the companion of the last + six years, and, as it had been in the time of the meetings on the Lost + Continent, he was filled with delight unspeakable. “They,” for some + dreamland reason, were friendly or had gone away that night, and the two + flitted together over all their country, from the brushwood-pile up the + Thirty-Mile Ride, till they saw the House of the Sick Thing, a pin-point + in the distance to the left; stamped through the Railway Waiting-room + where the roses lay on the spread breakfast-tables; and returned, by the + ford and the city they had once burned for sport, to the great swells of + the downs under the lamp-post. Wherever they moved a strong singing + followed them underground, but this night there was no panic. All the land + was empty except for themselves, and at the last (they were sitting by the + lamp-post hand in hand) she turned and kissed him. He woke with a start, + staring at the waving curtain of the cabin door; he could almost have + sworn that the kiss was real. + </p> + <p> + Next morning the ship was rolling in a Biscay sea, and people were not + happy; but as Georgie came to breakfast, shaven, tubbed, and smelling of + soap, several turned to look at him because of the light in his eyes and + the splendour of his countenance. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you look beastly fit,” snapped a neighbour. “Any one left you a + legacy in the middle of the Bay?” + </p> + <p> + Georgie reached for the curry, with a seraphic grin. “I suppose it's the + gettin' so near home, and all that. I do feel rather festive this mornin. + 'Rolls a bit, doesn't she?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Zuleika stayed in her cabin till the end of the voyage, when she left + without bidding him farewell, and wept passionately on the dock-head for + pure joy of meeting her children, who, she had often said, were so like + their father. + </p> + <p> + Georgie headed for his own country, wild with delight of his first long + furlough after the lean seasons. Nothing was changed in that orderly life, + from the coachman who met him at the station to the white peacock that + stormed at the carriage from the stone wall above the shaven lawns. The + house took toll of him with due regard to precedence—first the + mother; then the father; then the housekeeper, who wept and praised God; + then the butler, and so on down to the under-keeper, who had been dogboy + in Georgie's youth, and called him “Master Georgie,” and was reproved by + the groom who had taught Georgie to ride. + </p> + <p> + “Not a thing changed,” he sighed contentedly, when the three of them sat + down to dinner in the late sunlight, while the rabbits crept out upon the + lawn below the cedars, and the big trout in the ponds by the home paddock + rose for their evening meal. + </p> + <p> + “Our changes are all over, dear,” cooed the mother; “and now I am getting + used to your size and your tan (you're very brown, Georgie), I see you + haven't changed in the least. You're exactly like the pater.” + </p> + <p> + The father beamed on this man after his own heart,—“youngest major + in the army, and should have had the V.C., sir,”—and the butler + listened with his professional mask off when Master Georgie spoke of war + as it is waged to-day, and his father cross-questioned. + </p> + <p> + They went out on the terrace to smoke among the roses, and the shadow of + the old house lay long across the wonderful English foliage, which is the + only living green in the world. + </p> + <p> + “Perfect! By Jove, it's perfect!” Georgie was looking at the round-bosomed + woods beyond the home paddock, where the white pheasant boxes were ranged; + and the golden air was full of a hundred sacred scents and sounds. Georgie + felt his father's arm tighten in his. + </p> + <p> + “It's not half bad—but hodie mihi, cras tibi, isn't it? I suppose + you'll be turning up some fine day with a girl under your arm, if you + haven't one now, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “You can make your mind easy, sir. I haven't one.” + </p> + <p> + “Not in all these years?” said the mother. + </p> + <p> + “I hadn't time, mummy. They keep a man pretty busy, these days, in the + service, and most of our mess are unmarried, too.” + </p> + <p> + “But you must have met hundreds in society—at balls, and so on?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm like the Tenth, mummy: I don't dance.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't dance! What have you been doing with yourself, then—backing + other men's bills?” said the father. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes; I've done a little of that too; but you see, as things are now, + a man has all his work cut out for him to keep abreast of his profession, + and my days were always too full to let me lark about half the night.” + </p> + <p> + “Hmm!”—suspiciously. + </p> + <p> + “It's never too late to learn. We ought to give some kind of housewarming + for the people about, now you've come back. Unless you want to go straight + up to town, dear?” + </p> + <p> + “No. I don't want anything better than this. Let's sit still and enjoy + ourselves. I suppose there will be something for me to ride if I look for + it?” + </p> + <p> + “Seeing I've been kept down to the old brown pair for the last six weeks + because all the others were being got ready for Master Georgie, I should + say there might be,” the father chuckled. “They're reminding me in a + hundred ways that I must take the second place now.” + </p> + <p> + “Brutes!” + </p> + <p> + “The pater doesn't mean it, dear; but every one has been trying to make + your home-coming a success; and you do like it, don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfect! Perfect! There's no place like England—when you 've done + your work.” + </p> + <p> + “That's the proper way to look at it, my son.” + </p> + <p> + And so up and down the flagged walk till their shadows grew long in the + moonlight, and the mother went indoors and played such songs as a small + boy once clamoured for, and the squat silver candlesticks were brought in, + and Georgie climbed to the two rooms in the west wing that had been his + nursery and his playroom in the beginning. Then who should come to tuck + him up for the night but the mother? And she sat down on the bed, and they + talked for a long hour, as mother and son should, if there is to be any + future for the Empire. With a simple woman's deep guile she asked + questions and suggested answers that should have waked some sign in the + face on the pillow, and there was neither quiver of eyelid nor quickening + of breath, neither evasion nor delay in reply. So she blessed him and + kissed him on the mouth, which is not always a mother's property, and said + something to her husband later, at which he laughed profane and + incredulous laughs. + </p> + <p> + All the establishment waited on Georgie next morning, from the tallest + six-year-old, “with a mouth like a kid glove, Master Georgie,” to the + under-keeper strolling carelessly along the horizon, Georgie's pet rod in + his hand, and “There's a four-pounder risin' below the lasher. You don't + 'ave 'em in Injia, Mast-Major Georgie.” It was all beautiful beyond + telling, even though the mother insisted on taking him out in the landau + (the leather had the hot Sunday smell of his youth) and showing him off to + her friends at all the houses for six miles round; and the pater bore him + up to town and a lunch at the club, where he introduced him, quite + carelessly, to not less than thirty ancient warriors whose sons were not + the youngest majors in the army and had not the D.S.O. After that it was + Georgie's turn; and remembering his friends, he filled up the house with + that kind of officer who live in cheap lodgings at Southsea or Montpelier + Square, Brompton—good men all, but not well off. The mother + perceived that they needed girls to play with; and as there was no + scarcity of girls, the house hummed like a dovecote in spring. They tore + up the place for amateur theatricals; they disappeared in the gardens when + they ought to have been rehearsing; they swept off every available horse + and vehicle, especially the governess-cart and the fat pony; they fell + into the trout-ponds; they picnicked and they tennised; and they sat on + gates in the twilight, two by two, and Georgie found that he was not in + the least necessary to their entertainment. + </p> + <p> + “My word!” said he, when he saw the last of their dear backs. “They told + me they've enjoyed 'emselves, but they haven't done half the things they + said they would.” + </p> + <p> + “I know they've enjoyed themselves—immensely,” said the mother. + “You're a public benefactor, dear.” + </p> + <p> + “Now we can be quiet again, can't we?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, quite. I've a very dear friend of mine that I want you to know. She + couldn't come with the house so full, because she's an invalid, and she + was away when you first came. She's a Mrs. Lacy.” + </p> + <p> + “Lacy! I don't remember the name about here.” + </p> + <p> + “No; they came after you went to India—from Oxford. Her husband died + there, and she lost some money, I believe. They bought The Firs on the + Bassett Road. She's a very sweet woman, and we're very fond of them both.” + </p> + <p> + “She's a widow, didn't you say?” + </p> + <p> + “She has a daughter. Surely I said so, dear?” + </p> + <p> + “Does she fall into trout-ponds, and gas and giggle, and 'Oh, Major + Cottah!' and all that sort of thing?” + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed. She's a very quiet girl, and very musical. She always came + over here with her music-books—composing, you know; and she + generally works all day, so you won't—” + </p> + <p> + “'Talking about Miriam?” said the pater, coming up. The mother edged + toward him within elbow-reach. There was no finesse about Georgie's + father. “Oh, Miriam's a dear girl. Plays beautifully. Rides beautifully, + too. She's a regular pet of the household. Used to call me—” The + elbow went home, and ignorant but obedient always, the pater shut himself + off. + </p> + <p> + “What used she to call you, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “All sorts of pet names. I'm very fond of Miriam.” + </p> + <p> + “Sounds Jewish—Miriam.” + </p> + <p> + “Jew! You'll be calling yourself a Jew next. She's one of the + Herefordshire Lacys. When her aunt dies—” Again the elbow. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you won't see anything of her, Georgie. She's busy with her music or + her mother all day. Besides, you're going up to town tomorrow, aren't you? + I thought you said something about an Institute meeting?” The mother + spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Go up to town now! What nonsense!” Once more the pater was shut off. + </p> + <p> + “I had some idea of it, but I'm not quite sure,” said the son of the + house. Why did the mother try to get him away because a musical girl and + her invalid parent were expected? He did not approve of unknown females + calling his father pet names. He would observe these pushing persons who + had been only seven years in the county. + </p> + <p> + All of which the delighted mother read in his countenance, herself keeping + an air of sweet disinterestedness. + </p> + <p> + “They'll be here this evening for dinner. I'm sending the carriage over + for them, and they won't stay more than a week.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I shall go up to town. I don't quite know yet.” Georgie moved + away irresolutely. There was a lecture at the United Services Institute on + the supply of ammunition in the field, and the one man whose theories most + irritated Major Cottar would deliver it. A heated discussion was sure to + follow, and perhaps he might find himself moved to speak. He took his rod + that afternoon and went down to thrash it out among the trout. + </p> + <p> + “Good sport, dear!” said the mother, from the terrace. + </p> + <p> + “Fraid it won't be, mummy. All those men from town, and the girls + particularly, have put every trout off his feed for weeks. There isn't one + of 'em that cares for fishin'—really. Fancy stampin' and shoutin' on + the bank, and tellin' every fish for half a mile exactly what you're goin' + to do, and then chuckin' a brute of a fly at him! By Jove, it would scare + me if I was a trout!” + </p> + <p> + But things were not as bad as he had expected. The black gnat was on the + water, and the water was strictly preserved. A three-quarter-pounder at + the second cast set him for the campaign, and he worked down-stream, + crouching behind the reed and meadowsweet; creeping between a hornbeam + hedge and a foot-wide strip of bank, where he could see the trout, but + where they could not distinguish him from the background; lying almost on + his stomach to switch the blue-upright sidewise through the checkered + shadows of a gravelly ripple under overarching trees. But he had known + every inch of the water since he was four feet high. The aged and astute + between sunk roots, with the large and fat that lay in the frothy scum + below some strong rush of water, sucking as lazily as carp, came to + trouble in their turn, at the hand that imitated so delicately the flicker + and wimple of an egg-dropping fly. Consequently, Georgie found himself + five miles from home when he ought to have been dressing for dinner. The + housekeeper had taken good care that her boy should not go empty, and + before he changed to the white moth he sat down to excellent claret with + sandwiches of potted egg and things that adoring women make and men never + notice. Then back, to surprise the otter grubbing for fresh-water mussels, + the rabbits on the edge of the beechwoods foraging in the clover, and the + policeman-like white owl stooping to the little fieldmice, till the moon + was strong, and he took his rod apart, and went home through + well-remembered gaps in the hedges. He fetched a compass round the house, + for, though he might have broken every law of the establishment every + hour, the law of his boyhood was unbreakable: after fishing you went in by + the south garden back-door, cleaned up in the outer scullery, and did not + present yourself to your elders and your betters till you had washed and + changed. + </p> + <p> + “Half-past ten, by Jove! Well, we'll make the sport an excuse. They + wouldn't want to see me the first evening, at any rate. Gone to bed, + probably.” He skirted by the open French windows of the drawing-room. “No, + they haven't. They look very comfy in there.” + </p> + <p> + He could see his father in his own particular chair, the mother in hers, + and the back of a girl at the piano by the big potpourri-jar. The gardens + looked half divine in the moonlight, and he turned down through the roses + to finish his pipe. + </p> + <p> + A prelude-ended, and there floated out a voice of the kind that in his + childhood he used to call “creamy” a full, true contralto; and this is the + song that he heard, every syllable of it: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Over the edge of the purple down, + Where the single lamplight gleams, + Know ye the road to the Merciful Town + That is hard by the Sea of Dreams— + Where the poor may lay their wrongs away, + And the sick may forget to weep? + But we—pity us! Oh, pity us! + We wakeful; ah, pity us!— + We must go back with Policeman Day— + Back from the City of Sleep! + + Weary they turn from the scroll and crown, + Fetter and prayer and plough + They that go up to the Merciful Town, + For her gates are closing now. + It is their right in the Baths of Night + Body and soul to steep + But we—pity us! ah, pity us! + We wakeful; oh, pity us!— + We must go back with Policeman Day— + Back from the City of Sleep! + + Over the edge of the purple down, + Ere the tender dreams begin, + Look—we may look—at the Merciful Town, + But we may not enter in! + Outcasts all, from her guarded wall + Back to our watch we creep: + We—pity us! ah, pity us! + We wakeful; oh, pity us!— + We that go back with Policeman Day— + Back from the City of Sleep +</pre> + <p> + At the last echo he was aware that his mouth was dry and unknown pulses + were beating in the roof of it. The housekeeper, who would have it that he + must have fallen in and caught a chill, was waiting to catch him on the + stairs, and, since he neither saw nor answered her, carried a wild tale + abroad that brought his mother knocking at the door. + </p> + <p> + “Anything happened, dear? Harper said she thought you weren't—” + </p> + <p> + “No; it's nothing. I'm all right, mummy. Please don't bother.” + </p> + <p> + He did not recognise his own voice, but that was a small matter beside + what he was considering. Obviously, most obviously, the whole coincidence + was crazy lunacy. He proved it to the satisfaction of Major George Cottar, + who was going up to town to-morrow to hear a lecture on the supply of + ammunition in the field; and having so proved it, the soul and brain and + heart and body of Georgie cried joyously: “That's the Lily Lock girl—the + Lost Continent girl—the Thirty-Mile Ride girl—the Brushwood + girl! I know her!” + </p> + <p> + He waked, stiff and cramped in his chair, to reconsider the situation by + sunlight, when it did not appear normal. But a man must eat, and he went + to breakfast, his heart between his teeth, holding himself severely in + hand. + </p> + <p> + “Late, as usual,” said the mother. “'My boy, Miss Lacy.” + </p> + <p> + A tall girl in black raised her eyes to his, and Georgie's life training + deserted him—just as soon as he realised that she did not know. He + stared coolly and critically. There was the abundant black hair, growing + in a widow's peak, turned back from the forehead, with that peculiar + ripple over the right ear; there were the grey eyes set a little close + together; the short upper lip, resolute chin, and the known poise of the + head. There was also the small well-cut mouth that had kissed him. + </p> + <p> + “Georgie—dear!” said the mother, amazedly, for Miriam was flushing + under the stare. + </p> + <p> + “I—I beg your pardon!” he gulped. “I don't know whether the mother + has told you, but I'm rather an idiot at times, specially before I've had + my breakfast. It's—it's a family failing.” He turned to explore + among the hot-water dishes on the sideboard, rejoicing that she did not + know—she did not know. + </p> + <p> + His conversation for the rest of the meal was mildly insane, though the + mother thought she had never seen her boy look half so handsome. How could + any girl, least of all one of Miriam's discernment, forbear to fall down + and worship? But deeply Miriam was displeased. She had never been stared + at in that fashion before, and promptly retired into her shell when + Georgie announced that he had changed his mind about going to town, and + would stay to play with Miss Lacy if she had nothing better to do. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but don't let me throw you out. I'm at work. I've things to do all + the morning.” + </p> + <p> + “What possessed Georgie to behave so oddly?” the mother sighed to herself. + “Miriam's a bundle of feelings—like her mother.” + </p> + <p> + “You compose—don't you? Must be a fine thing to be able to do that. + ['Pig-oh, pig!' thought Miriam.] I think I heard you singin' when I came + in last night after fishin'. All about a Sea of Dreams, wasn't it? [Miriam + shuddered to the core of the soul that afflicted her.] Awfully pretty + song. How d' you think of such things?” + </p> + <p> + “You only composed the music, dear, didn't you?” + </p> + <p> + “The words too. I'm sure of it,” said Georgie, with a sparkling eye. No; + she did not know. + </p> + <p> + “Yeth; I wrote the words too.” Miriam spoke slowly, for she knew she + lisped when she was nervous. + </p> + <p> + “Now how could you tell, Georgie?” said the mother, as delighted as though + the youngest major in the army were ten years old, showing off before + company. + </p> + <p> + “I was sure of it, somehow. Oh, there are heaps of things about me, mummy, + that you don't understand. Looks as if it were goin' to be a hot day—for + England. Would you care for a ride this afternoon, Miss Lacy? We can start + out after tea, if you'd like it.” + </p> + <p> + Miriam could not in decency refuse, but any woman might see she was not + filled with delight. + </p> + <p> + “That will be very nice, if you take the Bassett Road. It will save me + sending Martin down to the village,” said the mother, filling in gaps. + </p> + <p> + Like all good managers, the mother had her one weakness—a mania for + little strategies that should economise horses and vehicles. Her men-folk + complained that she turned them into common carriers, and there was a + legend in the family that she had once said to the pater on the morning of + a meet: “If you should kill near Bassett, dear, and if it isn't too late, + would you mind just popping over and matching me this?” + </p> + <p> + “I knew that was coming. You'd never miss a chance, mother. If it's a fish + or a trunk I won't.” Georgie laughed. + </p> + <p> + “It's only a duck. They can do it up very neatly at Mallett's,” said the + mother, simply. “You won't mind, will you? We'll have a scratch dinner at + nine, because it's so hot.” + </p> + <p> + The long summer day dragged itself out for centuries; but at last there + was tea on the lawn, and Miriam appeared. + </p> + <p> + She was in the saddle before he could offer to help, with the clean spring + of the child who mounted the pony for the Thirty-Mile Ride. The day held + mercilessly, though Georgie got down thrice to look for imaginary stones + in Rufus's foot. One cannot say even simple things in broad light, and + this that Georgie meditated was not simple. So he spoke seldom, and Miriam + was divided between relief and scorn. It annoyed her that the great + hulking thing should know she had written the words of the song overnight; + for though a maiden may sing her most secret fancies aloud, she does not + care to have them trampled over by the male Philistine. They rode into the + little red-brick street of Bassett, and Georgie made untold fuss over the + disposition of that duck. It must go in just such a package, and be + fastened to the saddle in just such a manner, though eight o'clock had + struck and they were miles from dinner. + </p> + <p> + “We must be quick!” said Miriam, bored and angry. + </p> + <p> + “There's no great hurry; but we can cut over Dowhead Down, and let 'em out + on the grass. That will save us half an hour.” + </p> + <p> + The horses capered on the short, sweet-smelling turf, and the delaying + shadows gathered in the valley as they cantered over the great dun down + that overhangs Bassett and the Western coaching-road. Insensibly the pace + quickened without thought of mole-hills; Rufus, gentleman that he was, + waiting on Miriam's Dandy till they should have cleared the rise. Then + down the two-mile slope they raced together, the wind whistling in their + ears, to the steady throb of eight hoofs and the light click-click of the + shifting bits. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that was glorious!” Miriam cried, reining in. “Dandy and I are old + friends, but I don't think we've ever gone better together.” + </p> + <p> + “No; but you've gone quicker, once or twice.” + </p> + <p> + “Really? When?” + </p> + <p> + Georgie moistened his lips. “Don't you remember the Thirty-Mile Ride—with + me—when 'They' were after us—on the beach-road, with the sea + to the left—going toward the lamp-post on the downs?” + </p> + <p> + The girl gasped. “What—what do you mean?” she said hysterically. + </p> + <p> + “The Thirty-Mile Ride, and—and all the rest of it.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean—? I didn't sing anything about the Thirty-Mile Ride. I + know I didn't. I have never told a living soul.'” + </p> + <p> + “You told about Policeman Day, and the lamp at the top of the downs, and + the City of Sleep. It all joins on, you know—it's the same country—and + it was easy enough to see where you had been.” + </p> + <p> + “Good God!—It joins on—of course it does; but—I have + been—you have been—Oh, let's walk, please, or I shall fall + off!” + </p> + <p> + Georgie ranged alongside, and laid a hand that shook below her + bridle-hand, pulling Dandy into a walk. Miriam was sobbing as he had seen + a man sob under the touch of the bullet. + </p> + <p> + “It's all right—it's all right,” he whispered feebly. “Only—only + it's true, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “True! Am I mad?” + </p> + <p> + “Not unless I'm mad as well. Do try to think a minute quietly. How could + any one conceivably know anything about the Thirty-Mile Ride having + anything to do with you, unless he had been there?” + </p> + <p> + “But where? But where? Tell me!” + </p> + <p> + “There—wherever it may be—in our country, I suppose. Do you + remember the first time you rode it—the Thirty-Mile Ride, I mean? + You must.” + </p> + <p> + “It was all dreams—all dreams!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but tell, please; because I know.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me think. I—we were on no account to make any noise—on no + account to make any noise.” She was staring between Dandy's ears, with + eyes that did not see, and a suffocating heart. + </p> + <p> + “Because 'It' was dying in the big house?” Georgie went on, reining in + again. + </p> + <p> + “There was a garden with green-and-gilt railings—all hot. Do you + remember?” + </p> + <p> + “I ought to. I was sitting on the other side of the bed before 'It' + coughed and 'They' came in.” + </p> + <p> + “You!”—the deep voice was unnaturally full and strong, and the + girl's wide-opened eyes burned in the dusk as she stared him through and + through. “Then you're the Boy—my Brushwood Boy, and I've known you + all my life!” + </p> + <p> + She fell forward on Dandy's neck. Georgie forced himself out of the + weakness that was overmastering his limbs, and slid an arm round her + waist. The head dropped on his shoulder, and he found himself with parched + lips saying things that up till then he believed existed only in printed + works of fiction. Mercifully the horses were quiet. She made no attempt to + draw herself away when she recovered, but lay still, whispering, “Of + course you're the Boy, and I didn't know—I didn't know.” + </p> + <p> + “I knew last night; and when I saw you at breakfast—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that was why! I wondered at the time. You would, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “I couldn't speak before this. Keep your head where it is, dear. It's all + right now—all right now, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “But how was it I didn't know—after all these years and years? I + remember—oh, what lots of things I remember!” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me some. I'll look after the horses.” + </p> + <p> + “I remember waiting for you when the steamer came in. Do you?” + </p> + <p> + “At the Lily Lock, beyond Hong-Kong and Java?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you call it that, too?” + </p> + <p> + “You told me it was when I was lost in the continent. That was you that + showed me the way through the mountains?” + </p> + <p> + “When the islands slid? It must have been, because you're the only one I + remember. All the others were 'Them.' + </p> + <p> + “Awful brutes they were, too.” + </p> + <p> + “I remember showing you the Thirty-Mile Ride the first time. You ride just + as you used to—then. You are you!” + </p> + <p> + “That's odd. I thought that of you this afternoon. Isn't it wonderful?” + </p> + <p> + “What does it all mean? Why should you and I of the millions of people in + the world have this—this thing between us? What does it mean? I'm + frightened.” + </p> + <p> + “This!” said Georgie. The horses quickened their pace. They thought they + had heard an order. “Perhaps when we die we may find out more, but it + means this now.” + </p> + <p> + There was no answer. What could she say? As the world went, they had known + each other rather less than eight and a half hours, but the matter was one + that did not concern the world. There was a very long silence, while the + breath in their nostrils drew cold and sharp as it might have been a fume + of ether. + </p> + <p> + “That's the second,” Georgie whispered. “You remember, don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “It's not!”—furiously. “It's not!” + </p> + <p> + “On the downs the other night-months ago. You were just as you are now, + and we went over the country for miles and miles.” + </p> + <p> + “It was all empty, too. They had gone away. Nobody frightened us. I wonder + why, Boy?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, if you remember that, you must remember the rest. Confess!” + </p> + <p> + “I remember lots of things, but I know I didn't. I never have—till + just now.” + </p> + <p> + “You did, dear.” + </p> + <p> + “I know I didn't, because—oh, it's no use keeping anything back! + because I truthfully meant to.” + </p> + <p> + “And truthfully did.” + </p> + <p> + “No; meant to; but some one else came by.” + </p> + <p> + “There wasn't any one else. There never has been.” + </p> + <p> + “There was—there always is. It was another woman—out there—on + the sea. I saw her. It was the 26th of May. I've got it written down + somewhere.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you've kept a record of your dreams, too? That's odd about the other + woman, because I happened to be on the sea just then.” + </p> + <p> + “I was right. How do I know what you've done when you were awake—and + I thought it was only you!” + </p> + <p> + “You never were more wrong in your life. What a little temper you've got! + Listen to me a minute, dear.” And Georgie, though he knew it not, + committed black perjury. “It—it isn't the kind of thing one says to + any one, because they'd laugh; but on my word and honour, darling, I've + never been kissed by a living soul outside my own people in all my life. + Don't laugh, dear. I wouldn't tell any one but you, but it's the solemn + truth.” + </p> + <p> + “I knew! You are you. Oh, I knew you'd come some day; but I didn't know + you were you in the least till you spoke.” + </p> + <p> + “Then give me another.” + </p> + <p> + “And you never cared or looked anywhere? Why, all the round world must + have loved you from the very minute they saw you, Boy.” + </p> + <p> + “They kept it to themselves if they did. No; I never cared.” + </p> + <p> + “And we shall be late for dinner—horribly late. Oh, how can I look + at you in the light before your mother—and mine!” + </p> + <p> + “We'll play you're Miss Lacy till the proper time comes. What's the + shortest limit for people to get engaged? S'pose we have got to go through + all the fuss of an engagement, haven't we?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't want to talk about that. It's so commonplace. I've thought of + something that you don't know. I'm sure of it. What's my name?” + </p> + <p> + “Miri—no, it isn't, by Jove! Wait half a second, and it'll come back + to me. You aren't—you can't? Why, those old tales—before I + went to school! I've never thought of 'em from that day to this. Are you + the original, only Annieanlouise?” + </p> + <p> + “It was what you always called me ever since the beginning. Oh! We've + turned into the avenue, and we must be an hour late.” + </p> + <p> + “What does it matter? The chain goes as far back as those days? It must, + of course—of course it must. I've got to ride round with this + pestilent old bird-confound him!” + </p> + <p> + “'"Ha! ha!” said the duck, laughing'—do you remember that?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I do—flower-pots on my feet, and all. We've been together all + this while; and I've got to say good bye to you till dinner. Sure I'll see + you at dinner-time? Sure you won't sneak up to your room, darling, and + leave me all the evening? Good-bye, dear—good-bye.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye, Boy, good-bye. Mind the arch! Don't let Rufus bolt into his + stables. Good-bye. Yes, I'll come down to dinner; but—what shall I + do when I see you in the light!” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Day's Work, Volume 1, by Rudyard Kipling + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DAY'S WORK, VOLUME 1 *** + +***** This file should be named 2569-h.htm or 2569-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/6/2569/ + +Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer, and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation” + or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.” + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +“Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + </body> +</html> diff --git a/old/dyswk10.txt b/old/dyswk10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2184ba5 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/dyswk10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12391 @@ +The Project Gutenberg Etext The Day's Work [Vol. 1], by Kipling +#14 in our series by Rudyard Kipling + + +What we have here is a one volume edition, BUT there are two stories +that do not appear in this book and if someone should find Part II it +may be that it would have some others. Please email hart@pobox.com, +if you would like to work on this. + + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below. We need your donations. + + +Title: The Day's Work [Vol. 1] + +Author: Rudyard Kipling + +March, 2001 [Etext #2569] + + +The Project Gutenberg Etext The Day's Work [Vol. 1], by Kipling +*****This file should be named dyswk10.txt or dyswk10.zip****** + +Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, dyswk11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, dyswk10a.txt + + +This Etext prepared by an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer. + +Project Gutenberg Etexts are usually created from multiple editions, +all of which are in the Public Domain in the United States, unless a +copyright notice is included. Therefore, we usually do NOT keep any +of these books in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +We are now trying to release all our books one month in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. + +Please note: neither this list nor its contents are final till +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. To be sure you have an +up to date first edition [xxxxx10x.xxx] please check file sizes +in the first week of the next month. Since our ftp program has +a bug in it that scrambles the date [tried to fix and failed] a +look at the file size will have to do, but we will try to see a +new copy has at least one byte more or less. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours +to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. This +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If our value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour this year as we release thirty-six text +files per month, or 432 more Etexts in 1999 for a total of 2000+ +If these reach just 10% of the computerized population, then the +total should reach over 200 billion Etexts given away this year. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext +Files by December 31, 2001. [10,000 x 100,000,000 = 1 Trillion] +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only ~5% of the present number of computer users. + +At our revised rates of production, we will reach only one-third +of that goal by the end of 2001, or about 3,333 Etexts unless we +manage to get some real funding; currently our funding is mostly +from Michael Hart's salary at Carnegie-Mellon University, and an +assortment of sporadic gifts; this salary is only good for a few +more years, so we are looking for something to replace it, as we +don't want Project Gutenberg to be so dependent on one person. + +We need your donations more than ever! + + +All donations should be made to "Project Gutenberg/CMU": and are +tax deductible to the extent allowable by law. (CMU = Carnegie- +Mellon University). + +For these and other matters, please mail to: + +Project Gutenberg +P. O. Box 2782 +Champaign, IL 61825 + +When all other email fails. . .try our Executive Director: +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> +hart@pobox.com forwards to hart@prairienet.org and archive.org +if your mail bounces from archive.org, I will still see it, if +it bounces from prairienet.org, better resend later on. . . . + +We would prefer to send you this information by email. + +****** + +To access Project Gutenberg etexts, use any Web browser +to view http://promo.net/pg. This site lists Etexts by +author and by title, and includes information about how +to get involved with Project Gutenberg. You could also +download our past Newsletters, or subscribe here. This +is one of our major sites, please email hart@pobox.com, +for a more complete list of our various sites. + +To go directly to the etext collections, use FTP or any +Web browser to visit a Project Gutenberg mirror (mirror +sites are available on 7 continents; mirrors are listed +at http://promo.net/pg). + +Mac users, do NOT point and click, typing works better. + +Example FTP session: + +ftp sunsite.unc.edu +login: anonymous +password: your@login +cd pub/docs/books/gutenberg +cd etext90 through etext99 +dir [to see files] +get or mget [to get files. . .set bin for zip files] +GET GUTINDEX.?? [to get a year's listing of books, e.g., GUTINDEX.99] +GET GUTINDEX.ALL [to get a listing of ALL books] + +*** + +**Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor** + +(Three Pages) + + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you can distribute copies of this etext if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +etext, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this etext on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG- +tm etexts, is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor +Michael S. Hart through the Project Gutenberg Association at +Carnegie-Mellon University (the "Project"). Among other +things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this etext +under the Project's "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's etexts and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other etext medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] the Project (and any other party you may receive this +etext from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) disclaims all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold the Project, its directors, +officers, members and agents harmless from all liability, cost +and expense, including legal fees, that arise directly or +indirectly from any of the following that you do or cause: +[1] distribution of this etext, [2] alteration, modification, +or addition to the etext, or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this etext electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + etext or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this etext in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word pro- + cessing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The etext may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the etext (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + etext in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Project of 20% of the + net profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Association/Carnegie-Mellon + University" within the 60 days following each + date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare) + your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, +scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty +free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution +you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg +Association / Carnegie-Mellon University". + +We are planning on making some changes in our donation structure +in 2000, so you might want to email me, hart@pobox.com beforehand. + + + + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + +What we have here is a one volume edition, BUT there are two stories +that do not appear in this book and if someone should find Part II it +may be that it would have some others. Please email hart@pobox.com, +if you would like to work on this. + + + + + +This Etext prepared by an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer. + + + + + +THE DAY'S WORK + +by Rudyard Kipling + + + + +CONTENTS + +THE BRIDGE-BUILDERS +A WALKING DELEGATE +THE SHIP THAT FOUND HERSELF +THE TOMB OF HIS ANCESTORS +THE DEVIL AND THE DEEP SEA +WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR +.007 +THE MALTESE CAT +BREAD UPON THE WATERS" +AN ERROR IN THE FOURTH DIMENSION +MY SUNDAY AT HOME +THE BRUSHWOOD BOY + + + + +THE BRIDGE-BUILDERS + + +The least that Findlayson, of the Public Works Department, expected +was a C. I. E.; he dreamed of a C. S. I.: indeed, his friends told +him that he deserved more. For three years he had endured heat and +cold, disappointment, discomfort, danger, and disease, with +responsibility almost too heavy for one pair of shoulders; and day +by day, through that time, the great Kashi Bridge over the Ganges +had grown under his charge. Now, in less than three months, if all +went well, his Excellency the Viceroy would open the bridge in state, +an archbishop would bless it, and the first trainload of soldiers +would come over it, and there would be speeches. + +Findlayson, C. E., sat in his trolley on a construction line that +ran along one of the main revetments - the huge stone-faced banks +that flared away north and south for three miles on either side of +the river - and permitted himself to think of the end. With its +approaches, his work was one mile and three-quarters fin length; a +lattice-girder bridge, trussed with the Findlayson truss, standing +on seven-and-twenty brick pies. Each one of those piers was +twenty-four feet in diameter, capped with red Agra stone and sunk +eighty feet below the shifting sand of the Ganges' bed. Above them +was a railway-line fifteen feet broad; above that, again, a cart-road +of eighteen feet, flanked with footpaths. At either end rose towers +of red brick, loopholed for musketry and pierced for big guns, and +the ramp of the road was being pushed forward to their haunches. +The raw earth-ends were crawling and alive with hundreds upon +hundreds of tiny asses climbing out of the yawning borrow-pit below +with sackfuls of stuff; and the hot afternoon air was filled with +the noise of hooves, the rattle of the drivers' sticks, and the +swish and roll-down of the dirt. The river was very low, and on the +dazzling white sand between the three centre piers stood squat cribs +of railway-sleepers, filled within and daubed without with mud, to +support the last of the girders as those were riveted up. In the +little deep water left by the drought, an overhead-crane travelled +to and fro along its spile-pier, jerking sections of iron into place, +snorting and backing and grunting as an elephant grunts in the +timber-yard. Riveters by the hundred swarmed about the lattice +side-work and the iron roof of the railway-line, hung from invisible +staging under the bellies of the girders, clustered round the throats +of the piers, and rode on the overhang of the footpath-stanchions; +their fire-pots and the spurts of flame that answered each +hammer-stroke showing no more than pale yellow in the sun's glare. +East and west and north and south the construction-trains rattled +and shrieked up and down the embankments, the piled trucks of brown +and white stone banging behind them till the side-boards were +unpinned, and with a roar and a grumble a few thousand tons more +material were flung out to hold the river in place. + +Findlayson, C. E., turned on his trolley and looked over the face +of the country that he had changed for seven miles around. Looked +back on the humming village of five thousand workmen; up stream and +down, along the vista of spurs and sand; across the river to the far +piers, lessening in the haze; overhead to the guard-towers - and +only he knew how strong those were - and with a sigh of contentment +saw that his work was good. There stood his bridge before him in +the sunlight, lacking only a few weeks' work on the girders of the +three middle piers - his bridge, raw and ugly as original sin, but +pukka - permanent - to endure when all memory of the builder, yea, +even of the splendid Findlayson truss, had perished. Practically, +the thing was done. + +Hitchcock, his assistant, cantered along the line on a little +switch-tailed Kabuli pony who through long practice could have +trotted securely over a trestle, and nodded to his chief. + +"All but," said he, with a smile. + +"I've been thinking about it," the senior answered. "Not half a +bad job for two men, is it?" + +"One-and a half. Gad, what a Cooper's Hill cub I was when I came +on the works!" Hitchcock felt very old in the crowded experiences +of the past three years, that had taught him power and responsibility. + + +"You were rather a colt," said Findlayson. "I wonder how you'll +like going back to office-work when this job's over." + +"I shall hate it!" said the young man, and as he went on his eye +followed Findlayson's, and he muttered, "Isn't it damned good?" + +"I think we'll go up the service together," Findlayson said to +himself. "You're too good a youngster to waste on another man. +Cub thou wart; assistant thou art. Personal assistant, and at +Simla, thou shalt be, if any credit comes to me out of the +business!" + +Indeed; the burden of the work had fallen altogether on Findlayson +and his assistant, the young man whom he had chosen because of his +rawness to break to his own needs. There were labour contractors +by the half-hundred - fitters and riveters, European, borrowed from +the railway workshops, with, perhaps, twenty white and half-caste +subordinates to direct, under direction, the bevies of workmen - but +none knew better than these two, who trusted each other, how the +underlings were not to be trusted. They had been tried many times +in sudden crises - by slipping of booms, by breaking of tackle, +failure of cranes, and the wrath of the river - but no stress had +brought to light any man among men whom Findlayson and Hitchcock +would have honoured by working as remorselessly as they worked +themselves. Findlayson thought it over from the beginning: the +months of office-work destroyed at a blow when the Government of +India, at the last moment, added two feet to the width of the +bridge, under the impression that bridges were cut out of paper, +and so brought to ruin at least half an acre of calculations - and +Hitchcock, new to disappointment, buried his head in his arms and +wept; the heart-breaking delays over the filling of the contracts +in England; the futile correspondences hinting at great wealth of +commissions if one, only one, rather doubtful consignment were +passed; the war that followed the refusal; the careful, polite +obstruction at the other end that followed the war, till young +Hitchcock, putting one month's leave to another month, and borrowing +ten days from Findlayson, spent his poor little savings of a year +in a wild dash to London, and there, as his own tongue asserted +and the later consignments proved, put the fear of God into a man +so great that he feared only Parliament and said so till Hitchcock +wrought with him across his own dinner-table, and - he feared the +Kashi Bridge and all who spoke in its name. Then there was the +cholera that came in the night to the village by the bridge works; +and after the cholera smote the Smallpox. The fever they had +always with them. Hitchcock had been appointed a magistrate of +the third class with whipping powers, for the better government of +the community, and Findlayson watched him wield his powers +temperately, learning what to overlook and what to look after. It +was a long, long reverie, and it covered storm, sudden freshets, +death in every manner and shape, violent and awful rage against red +tape half frenzying a mind that knows it should be busy on other +things; drought, sanitation, finance; birth, wedding, burial, and +riot in the village of twenty warring castes; argument, expostulation, +persuasion, and the blank despair that a man goes to bed upon, +thankful that his rifle is all in pieces in the gun-case. Behind +everything rose the black frame of the Kashi Bridge - plate by plate, +girder by girder, span by span-and each pier of it recalled +Hitchcock, the all-round man, who had stood by his chief without +failing from the very first to this last. + +So the bridge was two men's work - unless one counted Peroo, as Peroo +certainly counted himself. He was a Lascar, a Kharva from Bulsar, +familiar with every port between Rockhampton and London, who had +risen to the rank of sarang on the British India boats, but wearying +of routine musters and clean clothes, had thrown up the service and +gone inland, where men of his calibre were sure of employment. For +his knowledge of tackle and the handling of heavy weights, Peroo was +worth almost any price he might have chosen to put upon his services; +but custom decreed the wage of the overhead men, and Peroo was not +within many silver pieces of his proper value. Neither running +water nor extreme heights made him afraid; and, as an ex-serang, he +knew how to hold authority. No piece of iron was so big or so badly +placed that Peroo could not devise a tackle to lift it - a +loose-ended, sagging arrangement, rigged with a scandalous amount +of talking, but perfectly equal to the work in hand. It was Peroo +who had saved the girder of Number Seven pier from destruction when +the new wire rope jammed in the eye of the crane, and the huge plate +tilted in its slings, threatening to slide out sideways. Then the +native workmen lost their heads with great shoutings, and Hitchcock's +right arm was broken by a falling T-plate, and he buttoned it up in +his coat and swooned, and came to and directed for four hours till +Peroo, from the top of the crane, reported "All's well," and the +plate swung home. There was no one like Peroo, serang, to lash, and +guy, and hold to control the donkey-engines, to hoist a fallen +locomotive craftily out of the borrow-pit into which it had tumbled; +to strip, and dive, if need be, to see how the concrete blocks round +the piers stood the scouring of Mother Gunga, or to adventure +up-stream on a monsoon night and report on the state of the +embankment-facings. He would interrupt the field-councils of +Findlayson and Hitchcock without fear, till his wonderful English, +or his still more wonderful lingua franca, half Portuguese and half +Malay, ran out and he was forced to take string and show the knots +that he would recommend. He controlled his own gang of tacklemen +- mysterious relatives from Kutch Mandvi gathered month by month +and tried to the uttermost. No consideration of family or kin +allowed Peroo to keep weak hands or a giddy head on the pay-roll. +"My honour is the honour of this bridge," he would say to the +about-to-bedismissed. "What do I care for your honour? Go and +work on a steamer. That is all you are fit for." + +The little cluster of huts where he and his gang lived centred +round the tattered dwelling of a sea-priest - one who had never set +foot on black water, but had been chosen as ghostly counsellor by +two generations of sea-rovers all unaffected by port missions or +those creeds which are thrust upon sailors by agencies along Thames +bank. The priest of the Lascara had nothing to do with their caste, +or indeed with anything at all. He ate the offerings of his church, +and slept and smoked, and slept again "for," said Peroo, who had +haled him a thousand miles inland, "he is a very holy man. He never +cares what you eat so long as you do not eat beef, and that is +good, because on land we worship Shiva, we Kharvas; but at sea on +the Kumpani's boats we attend strictly to the orders of the Burra +Malum [the first mate], and on this bridge we observe what Finlinson +Sahib says." + +Finlinson Sahib had that day given orders to clear the scaffolding +from the guard-tower on the right bank, and Peroo with his mates was +casting loose and lowering down the bamboo poles and planks as +swiftly as ever they had whipped the cargo out of a coaster. + +>From his trolley he could hear the whistle of the serang's silver +pipe and the creak and clatter of the pulleys. Peroo was standing +on the topmost coping of the tower, clad in the blue dungaree of +his abandoned service, and as Findlayson motioned to him to be +careful, for his was no life to throw away, he gripped the last +pole, and, shading his eyes ship-fashion, answered with the +long-drawn wail of the fo'c'sle lookout: "Ham dekhta hai " ("I am +looking out"). Findlayson laughed and then sighed. It was years +since he had seen a steamer, and he was sick for home. As his +trolley passed under the tower, Peroo descended by a rope, +ape-fashion, and cried: "It looks well now, Sahib. Our bridge is +all but done. What think you Mother Gunga will say when the rail +runs over?" + +"She has said little so far. It was never Mother Gunga that delayed +us." + +"There is always time for her; and none the less there has been +delay. Has the Sahib forgotten last autumn's flood, when the +stoneboats were sunk without warning - or only a half-day's +warning? " + +"Yes, but nothing save a big flood could hurt us now. The spurs are +holding well on the west bank." + +"Mother Gunga eats great allowances. There is always room for more +stone on the revetments. I tell this to the Chota Sahib" - he meant +Hitchcock-" and he laughs." + +"No matter, Peroo. Another year thou wilt be able to build a bridge +in thine own fashion." + +The Lascar grinned. "Then it will not be in this way - with +stonework sunk under water, as the Quetta was sunk. I like +sus-suspen-sheen bridges that fly from bank to bank, with one big +step, like a gang-plank. Then no water can hurt. When does the +Lord Sahib come to open the bridge?" + +"In three months, when the weather is cooler." + +"Ho! ho! He is like the Burra Malum. He sleeps below while the +work is being done. Then he comes upon the quarter-deck and touches +with his finger, and says: 'This is not clean! Dam jibboonwallah!'" + +"But the Lord Sahib does not call me a dam jibboonwallah, Peroo." + +"No, Sahib; but he does not come on deck till the work is all +finished. Even the Burra Malum of the Nerbudda said once at +Tuticorin -" + +"Bah! Go! I am busy." + +"I, also!" said Peroo, with an unshaken countenance. "May I take +the light dinghy now and row along the spurs?" + +"To hold them with thy hands? They are, I think, sufficiently +heavy." + +"Nay, Sahib. It is thus. At sea, on the Black Water, we have room +to be blown up and down without care. Here we have no room at all. +Look you, we have put the river into a dock, and run her between +stone sills." + +Findlayson smiled at the " we." + +"We have bitted and bridled her. She is not like the sea, that can +beat against a soft beach. She is Mother Gunga - in irons." His +voice fell a little. + +"Peroo, thou hast been up and down the world more even than I. Speak +true talk, now. How much dolt thou in thy heart believe of Mother +Gunga?" + +"All that our priest says. London is London, Sahib. Sydney is +Sydney, and Port Darwin is Port Darwin. Also Mother Gunga is Mother +Gunga, and when I come back to her banks I know this and worship. +In London I did poojah to the big temple by the river for the sake +of the God within . . . . Yes, I will not take the cushions in +the dinghy." + +Findlayson mounted his horse and trotted to the shed of a bungalow +that he shared with his assistant. The place had become home to +him in the last three years. He had grilled in the heat, sweated +in the rains, and shivered with fever under the rude thatch roof; +the lime-wash beside the door was covered with rough drawings and +formulae, and the sentry-path trodden in the matting of the verandah +showed where he had walked alone. There is no eight-hour limit to +an engineer's work, and the evening meal with Hitchcock was eaten +booted and spurred: over their cigars they listened to the hum of +the village as the gangs came up from the river-bed and the lights +began to twinkle. + +"Peroo has gone up the spurs in your dinghy. He's taken a couple +of nephews with him, and he's lolling in the stern like a +commodore," said Hitchcock. + +"That's all right. He's got something on his mind. You'd think +that ten years in the British India boats would have knocked most +of his religion out of him." + +"So it has," said Hitchcock, chuckling. "I overheard him the other +day in the middle of a most atheistical talk with that fat old guru +of theirs. Peroo denied the efficacy of prayer; and wanted the +guru to go to sea and watch a gale out with him, and see if he +could stop a monsoon." + +"All the same, if you carried off his gurus he'd leave us like a +shot. He was yarning away to me about praying to the dome of St. +Paul's when he was in London." + +"He told me that the first time he went into the engine-room of a +steamer, when he was a boy, he prayed to the low-pressure cylinder." + +"Not half a bad thing to pray to, either. He's propitiating his own +Gods now, and he wants to know what Mother Gunga will think of a +bridge being run across her. Who's there?" A shadow darkened the +doorway, and a telegram was put into Hitchcock's hand. + +"She ought to be pretty well used to it by this time. Only a tar. +It ought to be Ralli's answer about the new rivets . . . . Great +Heavens!" Hitchcock jumped to his feet. + +"What is it?" said the senior, and took the form. "That's what +Mother Gunga thinks, is it," he said, reading. "Keep cool, young'un. +We've got all our work cut out for us. Let's see. Muir wired half +an hour ago: 'Floods on the Ramgunga. Look out.' Well, that gives +us - one, two - nine and a half for the flood to reach Melipur Ghaut +and seven's sixteen and a half to Lataoli - say fifteen hours before +it comes down to us." + +"Curse that hill-fed sewer of a Ramgunga! Findlayson, this is two +months before anything could have been expected, and the left bank +is littered up with stuff still. Two full months before the time!" + +" That's why it comes. I've only known Indian rivers for +five-and-twenty years, and I don't pretend to understand. Here comes +another tar." Findlayson opened the telegram. "Cockran, this time, +from the Ganges Canal: 'Heavy rains here. Bad.' He might have saved +the last word. Well, we don't want to know any more. We've got to +work the gangs all night and clean up the river-bed. You'll take the +east bank and work out to meet me in the middle. Get every thing that +floats below the bridge: we shall have quite enough rivercraft coming +down adrift anyhow, without letting the stone-boats ram the piers. +What have you got on the east bank that needs looking after " + +"Pontoon - one big pontoon with the overhead crane on it. T'other +overhead crane on the mended pontoon, with the cart-road rivets from +Twenty to Twenty-three piers - two construction lines, and a +turning-spur. The pilework must take its chance," said Hitchcock. + +All right. Roll up everything you can lay hands on. We'll give the +gang fifteen minutes more to eat their grub." + +Close to the verandah stood a big night-gong, never used except for +flood, or fire in the village. Hitchcock had called for a fresh +horse, and was off to his side of the bridge when Findlayson took +the cloth-bound stick and smote with the rubbing stroke that brings +out the full thunder of the metal. + +Long before the last rumble ceased every night-gong in the village +had taken up the warning. To these were added the hoarse screaming +of conches in the little temples; the throbbing of drums and tom-toms; +and, from the European quarters, where the riveters lived, +McCartney's bugle, a weapon of offence on Sundays and festivals, +brayed desperately, calling to "Stables." Engine after engine +toiling home along the spurs at the end of her day's work whistled +in answer till the whistles were answered from the far bank. Then +the big gong thundered thrice for a sign that it was flood and not +fire; conch, drum, and whistle echoed the call, and the village +quivered to the sound of bare feet running upon soft earth. The +order in all cases was to stand by the day's work and wait +instructions. The gangs poured by in the dusk; men stopping to knot +a loin-cloth or fasten a sandal; gang-foremen shouting to their +subordinates as they ran or paused by the tool-issue sheds for bars +and mattocks; locomotives creeping down their tracks wheel-deep in +the crowd; till the brown torrent disappeared into the dusk of the +river-bed, raced over the pilework, swarmed along the lattices, +clustered by the cranes, and stood still each man in his place. + +Then the troubled beating of the gong carried the order to take up +everything and bear it beyond highwater mark, and the flare-lamps +broke out by the hundred between the webs of dull iron as the +riveters began a night's work, racing against the flood that was to +come. The girders of the three centre piers - those that stood on +the cribs - were all but in position. They needed just as many +rivets as could be driven into them, for the flood would assuredly +wash out their supports, and the ironwork would settle down on the +caps of stone if they were not blocked at the ends. A hundred +crowbars strained at the sleepers of the temporary line that fed +the unfinished piers. It was heaved up in lengths, loaded into +trucks, and backed up the bank beyond flood-level by the groaning +locomotives. The tool-sheds on the sands melted away before the +attack of shouting armies, and with them went the stacked ranks of +Government stores, iron-bound boxes of rivets, pliers, cutters, +duplicate parts of the riveting-machines, spare pumps and chains. +The big crane would be the last to be shifted, for she was hoisting +all the heavy stuff up to the main structure of the bridge. The +concrete blocks on the fleet of stone-boats were dropped overside, +where there was any depth of water, to guard the piers, and the +empty boats themselves were poled under the bridge down-stream. It +was here that Peroo's pipe shrilled loudest, for the first stroke +of the big gong had brought the dinghy back at racing speed, and +Peroo and his people were stripped to the waist, working for the +honour and credit which are better than life. + +"I knew she would speak," he cried. "I knew, but the telegraph +gives us good warning. O sons of unthinkable begetting - children +of unspeakable shame - are we here for the look of the thing?" It +was two feet of wire-rope frayed at the ends, and it did wonders +as Peroo leaped from gunnel to gunnel, shouting the language of +the sea. + +Findlayson was more troubled for the stone-boats than anything else. +McCartney, with his gangs, was blocking up the ends of the three +doubtful spans, but boats adrift, if the flood chanced to be a high +one, might endanger the girders; and there was a very fleet in the +shrunken channel. + +"Get them behind the swell of the guard-tower," he shouted down to +Peroo. "It will be dead-water there. Get them below the bridge." + +"Accha! [Very good.] I know; we are mooring them with wire-rope," +was the answer. " Heh! I Listen to the Chota Sahib. He is working +hard." + +>From across the river came an almost continuous whistling of +locomotives, backed by the rumble of stone. Hitchcock at the last +minute was spending a few hundred more trucks of Tarakee stone in +reinforcing his spurs and embankments. + +"The bridge challenges Mother Gunga," said Peroo, with a laugh. +"But when she talks I know whose voice will be the loudest." + +For hours the naked men worked, screaming and shouting under the +lights. It was a hot, moonless night; the end of it was darkened by +clouds and a sudden squall that made Findlayson very grave. + +"She moves! " said Peroo, just before the dawn. "Mother Gunga is +awake! Hear!" He dipped his hand over the side of a boat and the +current mumbled on it. A little wave hit the side of a pier with +a crisp slap. + +"Six hours before her time," said Findlayson, mopping his forehead +savagely. "Now we can't depend on anything. We'd better clear +all hands out of the river-bed." + +Again the big gong beat, and a second time there was the rushing +of naked feet on earth and ringing iron; the clatter of tools ceased. +In the silence, men heard the dry yawn of water crawling over +thirsty sand. + +Foreman after foreman shouted to Findlayson, who had posted himself +by the guard-tower, that his section of the river-bed had been +cleaned out, and when the last voice dropped Findlayson hurried over +the bridge till the iron plating of the permanent way gave place to +the temporary plank-walk over the three centre piers, and there he +met Hitchcock. + +"All clear your side?" said Findlayson. The whisper rang in the box +of latticework. + +"Yes, and the east channel's filling now. We're utterly out of our +reckoning. When is this thing down on us?" + +"There's no saying. She's filling as fast as she can. Look!" +Findlayson pointed to the planks below his feet, where the sand, +burned and defiled by months of work, was beginning to whisper +and fizz. + +"What orders?" said Hitchcock. + +"Call the roll - count stores -sit on your hunkers - and pray for +the bridge. That's all I can think of. Good night. Don't risk your +life trying to fish out anything that may go down-stream." + +"Oh, I'll be as prudent as you are! 'Night. Heavens, how she's +filling! Here's the rain in earnest!" Findlayson picked his way +back to his bank, sweeping the last of McCartney's riveters before +him. The gangs had spread themselves along the embankments, +regardless of the cold rain of the dawn, and there they waited +for the flood. Only Peroo kept his men together behind the swell +of the guard-tower, where the stone-boats lay tied fore and aft +with hawsers, wire-rope, and chains. + +A shrill wail ran along the line, growing to a yell, half fear and +half wonder: the face of the river whitened from bank to bank +between the stone facings, and the faraway spurs went out in spouts +of foam. Mother Gunga had come bank-high in haste, and a wall of +chocolate-coloured water was her messenger. There was a shriek +above the roar of the water, the complaint of the spans coming down +on their blocks as the cribs were whirled out from under their +bellies. The stone-boats groaned and ground each other in the eddy +that swung round the abutment, and their clumsy masts rose higher +and higher against the dim sky-line. + +"Before she was shut between these walls we knew what she would do. +Now she is thus cramped God only knows what she will do!" said Peroo, +watching the furious turmoil round the guard-tower. "Ohe! Fight, +then! Fight hard, for it is thus that a woman wears herself out." + +But Mother Gunga would not fight as Peroo desired. After the first +down-stream plunge there came no more walls of water, but the river +lifted herself bodily, as a snake when she drinks in midsummer, +plucking and fingering along the revetments, and banking up behind +the piers till even Findlayson began to recalculate the strength of +his work. + +When day came the village gasped. "Only last night," men said, +turning to each other," it was as a town in the river-bed! Look +now!" + +And they looked and wondered afresh at the deep water, the racing +water that licked the throat of the piers. The farther bank was +veiled by rain, into which the bridge ran out and vanished; the +spurs up-stream were marked by no more than eddies and spoutings, +and down-stream the pent river, once freed of her guide-lines, had +spread like a sea to the horizon. Then hurried by, rolling in the +water, dead men and oxen together, with here and there a patch of +thatched roof that melted when it touched a pier. + +"Big flood," said Peroo, and Findlayson nodded. It was as big a +flood as he had any wish to watch. His bridge would stand what was +upon her now, but not very much more, and if by any of a thousand +chances there happened to be a weakness in the embankments, Mother +Gunga would carry his honour to the sea with the other raffle. +Worst of all, there was nothing to do except to sit still; and +Findlayson sat still under his macintosh till his helmet became +pulp on his head, and his boots were over-ankle in mire. He took +no count of time, for the river was marking the hours, inch by +inch and foot by foot, along the embankment, and he listened, numb +and hungry, to the straining of the stone-boats, the hollow thunder +under the piers, and the hundred noises that make the full note of +a flood. Once a dripping servant brought him food, but he could +not eat; and once he thought that he heard a faint toot from a +locomotive across the river, and then he smiled. The bridge's +failure would hurt his assistant not a little, but Hitchcock was a +young man with his big work yet to do. For himself the crash meant +everything - everything that made a hard life worth the living. +They would say, the men of his own profession . . . he remembered +the half pitying things that he himself had said when Lockhart's +new waterworks burst and broke down in brickheaps and sludge, and +Lockhart's spirit broke in him and he died. He remembered what he +himself had said when the Sumao Bridge went out in the big cyclone +by the sea; and most he remembered poor Hartopp's face three weeks +later, when the shame had marked it. His bridge was twice the size +of Hartopp's, and it carried the Findlayson truss as well as the +new pier-shoe - the Findlayson bolted shoe. There were no excuses +in his service. Government might listen, perhaps, but his own kind +would judge him by his bridge, as that stood or fell. He went over +it in his head, plate by plate, span by span, brick by brick, pier +by pier, remembering, comparing, estimating, and recalculating, +lest there should be any mistake; and through the long hours and +through the flights of formulae that danced and wheeled before him +a cold fear would come to pinch his heart. His side of the sum +was beyond question; but what man knew Mother Gunga's arithmetic? +Even as he was making all sure by the multiplication-table, the +river might be scooping a pot-hole to the very bottom of any one of +those eighty-foot piers that carried his reputation. Again a servant +came to him with food, but his mouth was dry, and he could only +drink and return to the decimals in his brain. And the river was +still rising. Peroo, in a mat shelter-coat, crouched at his feet, +watching now his face and now the face of the river, but saying +nothing. + +At last the Lascar rose and floundered through the mud towards the +village, but he was careful to leave an ally to watch the boats. + +Presently he returned, most irreverently driving before him the +priest of his creed - a fat old man, with a grey beard that +whipped the wind with the wet cloth that blew over his shoulder. +Never was seen so lamentable a guru. + +"What good are offerings and little kerosene lamps and dry grain," +shouted Peroo, " if squatting in the mud is all that thou canst +do? Thou hast dealt long with the Gods when they were contented +and well-wishing. Now they are angry. Speak to them!" + +"What is a man against the wrath of Gods?" whined the priest, +cowering as the wind took him. "Let me go to the temple, and I +will pray there." + +"Son of a pig, pray here! Is there no return for salt fish and +curry powder and dried onions? Call aloud! Tell Mother Gunga +we have had enough. Bid her be still for the night. I cannot +pray, but I have been serving in the Kumpani's boats, and when +men did not obey my orders I -" A flourish of the wire-rope +colt rounded the sentence, and the priest, breaking free from his +disciple, fled to the village. + +"Fat pig!" said Peroo. "After all that we have done for him! +When the flood is down I will see to it that we get a new guru. +Finlinson Sahib, it darkens for night now, and since yesterday +nothing has been eaten. Be wise, Sahib. No man can endure +watching and great thinking on an empty belly. Lie down, Sahib. +The river will do what the river will do." + +"The bridge is mine; I cannot leave it." + +"Wilt thou hold it up with thy hands, then?" said Peroo, laughing. +"I was troubled for my boats and sheers before the flood came. Now +we are in the hands of the Gods. The Sahib will not eat and lie +down? Take these, then. They are meat and good toddy together, +and they kill all weariness, besides the fever that follows the +rain. I have eaten nothing else to-day at all." + +He took a small tin tobacco-box from his sodden waistbelt and +thrust it into Findlayson's hand, saying " Nay, do not be afraid. +It is no more than opium - clean Malwa opium!" + +Findlayson shook two or three of the dark-brown pellets into his +hand, and hardly knowing what he did, swallowed them. The stuff +was at least a good guard against fever - the fever that was +creeping upon him out of the wet mud - and he had seen what Peroo +could do in the stewing mists of autumn on the strength of a dose +from the tin box. + +Peroo nodded with bright eyes. "In a little - in a little the +Sahib will find that he thinks well again. I too will -" He dived +into his treasure-box, resettled the rain-coat over his head, and +squatted down to watch the boats. It was too dark now to see beyond +the first pier, and the night seemed to have given the river new +strength. Findlayson stood with his chin on his chest, thinking. +There was one point about one of the piers - the seventh - that he +had not fully settled in his mind. The figures would not shape +themselves to the eye except one by one and at enormous intervals +of time. There was a sound rich and mellow in his ears like the +deepest note of a double-bass - an entrancing sound upon which he +pondered for several hours, as it seemed. Then Peroo was at his +elbow, shouting that a wire hawser had snapped and the stone-boats +were loose. Findlayson saw the fleet open and swing out fanwise +to a long-drawn shriek of wire straining across gunnels. + +"A tree hit them. They will all go," cried Peroo. "The main +hawser has parted. What does the Sahib do? " + +An immensely complex plan had suddenly flashed into Findlayson's +mind. He saw the ropes running from boat to boat in straight +lines and angles - each rope a line of white fire. But there was +one rope which was the master rope. He could see that rope. If +he could pull it once, it was absolutely and mathematically +certain that the disordered fleet would reassemble itself in the +backwater behind the guard-tower. But why, he wondered, was Peroo +clinging so desperately to his waist as he hastened down the bank? +It was necessary to put the Lascar aside, gently and slowly, because +it was necessary to save the boats, and, further, to demonstrate +the extreme ease of the problem that looked so difficult. And then + - but it was of no conceivable importance - a wirerope raced +through his hand, burning it, the high bank disappeared, and with +it all the slowly dispersing factors of the problem. He was sitting +in the rainy darkness - sitting in a boat that spun like a top, +and Peroo was standing over him. + +"I had forgotten," said the Lascar, slowly, "that to those fasting +and unused, the opium is worse than any wine. Those who die in +Gunga go to the Gods. Still, I have no desire to present myself +before such great ones. Can the Sahib swim?" + +"What need? He can fly - fly as swiftly as the wind," was the thick +answer. + +"He is mad!" muttered Peroo, under his breath. "And he threw me +aside like a bundle of dung-cakes. Well, he will not know his death. +The boat cannot live an hour here even if she strike nothing. It +is not good to look at death with a clear eye." + +He refreshed himself again from the tin box, squatted down in the +bows of the reeling, pegged, and stitched craft, staring through +the mist at the nothing that was there. A warm drowsiness crept +over Findlayson, the Chief Engineer, whose duty was with his bridge. +The heavy raindrops struck him with a thousand tingling little +thrills, and the weight of all time since time was made hung heavy +on his eyelids. He thought and perceived that he was perfectly +secure, for the water was so solid that a man could surely step out +upon it, and, standing still with his legs apart to keep his +balance - this was the most important point - would be borne with +great and easy speed to the shore. But yet a better plan came to +him. It needed only an exertion of will for the soul to hurl the +body ashore as wind drives paper, to waft it kite-fashion to the +bank. Thereafter - the boat spun dizzily - suppose the high wind +got under the freed body? Would it tower up like a kite and pitch +headlong on the far-away sands, or would it duck about, beyond +control, through all eternity? Findlayson gripped the gunnel to +anchor himself, for it seemed that he was on the edge of taking +the flight before he had settled all his plans. Opium has more +effect on the white man than the black. Peroo was only +comfortably indifferent to accidents. "She cannot live," he +grunted. "Her seams open already. If she were even a dinghy with +oars we could have ridden it out; but a box with holes is no good. +Finlinson Sahib, she fills." + +"Accha! I am going away. Come thou also." + +In his mind, Findlayson had already escaped from the boat, and was +circling high in air to find a rest for the sole of his foot. His +body - he was really sorry for its gross helplessness - lay in the +stern, the water rushing about its knees. + +"How very ridiculous!" he said to himself, from his eyrie - "that +is Findlayson - chief of the Kashi Bridge. The poor beast is going +to be drowned, too. Drowned when it's close to shore. I'm - I'm +onshore already. Why doesn't it come along." + +To his intense disgust, he found his soul back in his body again, +and that body spluttering and choking in deep water. The pain of +the reunion was atrocious, but it was necessary, also, to fight for +the body. He was conscious of grasping wildly at wet sand, and +striding prodigiously, as one strides in a dream, to keep foothold +in the swirling water, till at last he hauled himself clear of the +hold of the river, and dropped, panting, on wet earth. + +"Not this night," said Peroo, in his ear. "The Gods have protected +us." The Lascar moved his feet cautiously, and they rustled among +dried stumps. "This is some island of last year's indigo-crop," he +went on. "We shall find no men here; but have great care, Sahib; +all the snakes of a hundred miles have been flooded out. Here comes +the lightning, on the heels of the wind. Now we shall be able to +look; but walk carefully." + +Findlayson was far and far beyond any fear of snakes, or indeed any +merely human emotion. He saw, after he had rubbed the water from +his eyes, with an immense clearness, and trod, so it seemed to +himself, with world-encompassing strides. Somewhere in the night +of time he had built a bridge - a bridge that spanned illimitable +levels of shining seas; but the Deluge had swept it away, leaving +this one island under heaven for Findlayson and his companion, +sole survivors of the breed of Man. + +An incessant lightning, forked and blue, showed all that there was +to be seen on the little patch in the flood - a clump of thorn, a +clump of swaying creaking bamboos, and a grey gnarled peepul +overshadowing a Hindoo shrine, from whose dome floated a tattered +red flag. The holy man whose summer resting-place it was had long +since abandoned it, and the weather had broken the red-daubed image +of his god. The two men stumbled, heavy limbed and heavy-eyed, over +the ashes of a brick-set cooking-place, and dropped down under the +shelter of the branches, while the rain and river roared together. + +The stumps of the indigo crackled, and there was a smell of cattle, +as a huge and dripping Brahminee bull shouldered his way under the +tree. The flashes revealed the trident mark of Shiva on his flank, +the insolence of head and hump, the luminous stag-like eyes, the +brow crowned with a wreath of sodden marigold blooms, and the silky +dewlap that almost swept the ground. There was a noise behind him +of other beasts coming up from the floodline through the thicket, +a sound of heavy feet and deep breathing. + +"Here be more beside ourselves," said Findlayson, his head against +the tree-pole, looking through half-shut eyes, wholly at ease. + +" Truly," said Peroo, thickly, "and no small ones." + +"What are they, then? I do not see clearly." + +"The Gods. Who else? Look!" + +"Ah, true! The Gods surely - the Gods." Findlayson smiled as his +head fell forward on his chest. Peroo was eminently right. After +the Flood, who should be alive in the land except the Gods that +made it - the Gods to whom his village prayed nightly - the Gods +who were in all men's mouths and about all men's ways. He could +not raise his head or stir a finger for the trance that held him, +and Peroo was smiling vacantly at the lightning. + +The Bull paused by the shrine, his head lowered to the damp earth. +A green Parrot in the branches preened his wet wings and screamed +against the thunder as the circle under the tree filled with the +shifting shadows of beasts. There was a black Buck at the Bull's +heels - such a Buck as Findlayson in his far-away life upon earth +might have seen in dreams - a Buck with a royal head, ebon back, +silver belly, and gleaming straight horns. Beside him, her head +bowed to the ground, the green eyes burning under the heavy brows, +with restless tail switching the dead grass, paced a Tigress, +full-bellied and deep-jowled. + +The Bull crouched beside the shrine, and there leaped from the +darkness a monstrous grey Ape, who seated himself man-wise in the +place of the fallen image, and the rain spilled like jewels from +the hair of his neck and shoulders. + +Other shadows came and went behind the circle, among them a drunken +Man flourishing staff and drinking-bottle. Then a hoarse bellow +broke out from near the ground. "The flood lessens even now," it +cried. "Hour by hour the water falls, and their bridge still +stands!" + +"My bridge," said Findlayson to himself. "That must be very old +work now. What have the Gods to do with my bridge?" + +His eyes rolled in the darkness following the roar. A Mugger - the +blunt-nosed, ford-haunting Mugger of the Ganges - draggled herself +before the beasts, lashing furiously to right and left with her tail. + +"They have made it too strong for me. In all this night I have +only torn away a handful of planks. The walls stand. The towers +stand. They have chained my flood, and the river is not free any +more. Heavenly Ones, take this yoke away! Give me clear water +between bank and bank! It is I, Mother Gunga, that speak. The +Justice of the Gods! Deal me the Justice of the Gods!" + +"What said I?" whispered Peroo. "This is in truth a Punchayet of +the Gods. Now we know that all the world is dead, save you and I, +Sahib." + +The Parrot screamed and fluttered again, and the Tigress, her ears +flat to her head, snarled wickedly. + +Somewhere in the shadow, a great trunk and gleaming tusks swayed to +and fro, and a low gurgle broke the silence that followed on the +snarl. + +"We be here," said a deep voice, " the Great Ones. One only and +very many. Shiv, my father, is here, with Indra. Kali has spoken +already. Hanuman listens also." + +"Kashi is without her Kotwal tonight," shouted the Man with the +drinking-bottle, flinging his staff to the ground, while the island +rang to the baying of hounds. "Give her the Justice of the Gods." + +"Ye were still when they polluted my waters," the great Crocodile +bellowed. "Ye made no sign when my river was trapped between the +walls. I had no help save my own strength, and that failed - the +strength of Mother Gunga failed - before their guard-towers. What +could I do? I have done everything. Finish now, Heavenly Ones!" + +"I brought the death; I rode the spotted sickness from hut to hut +of their workmen, and yet they would not cease." A nose-slitten, +hide-worn Ass, lame, scissor-legged, and galled, limped forward. +"I cast the death at them out of my nostrils, but they would not +cease." + +Peroo would have moved, but the opium lay heavy upon him. + +"Bah!" he said, spitting. "Here is Sitala herself; Mata - the +smallpox. Has the Sahib a handkerchief to put over his face?" + +"Little help! They fed me the corpses for a month, and I flung +them out on my sand-bars, but their work went forward. Demons they +are, and sons of demons! And ye left Mother Gunga alone for their +fire-carriage to make a mock of. The Justice of the Gods on the +bridge-builders!" + +The Bull turned the cud in his mouth and answered slowly: "If the +Justice of the Gods caught all who made a mock of holy things +there would be many dark altars in the land, mother." + +"But this goes beyond a mock," said the Tigress, darting forward a +griping paw. "Thou knowest, Shiv, and ye, too, Heavenly Ones; ye +know that they have defiled Gunga. Surely they must come to the +Destroyer. Let Indra judge." + +The Buck made no movement as he answered: " How long has this +evil been?" + +"Three years, as men count years," said the Mugger, close pressed +to the earth. + +"Does Mother Gunga die, then, in a year, that she is so anxious to +see vengeance now? The deep sea was where she runs but yesterday, +and tomorrow the sea shall cover her again as the Gods count that +which men call time. Can any say that this their bridge endures +till tomorrow?" said the Buck. + +There was along hush, and in the clearing of the storm the full +moon stood up above the dripping trees. + +"Judge ye, then," said the River, sullenly. "I have spoken my shame. +The flood falls still. I can do no more." + +"For my own part" - it was the voice of the great Ape seated within +the shrine - "it pleases me well to watch these men, remembering +that I also builded no small bridge in the world's youth." + +"They say, too," snarled the Tiger, "that these men came of the wreck +of thy armies, Hanuman, and therefore thou hast aided -" + +"They toil as my armies toiled in Lanka, and they believe that their +toil endures. Indra is too high, but Shiv, thou knowest how the +land is threaded with their fire-carriages." + +"Yea, I know," said the Bull. "Their Gods instructed them in the +matter." + +A laugh ran round the circle. + +"Their Gods! What should their Gods know? They were born +yesterday, and those that made them are scarcely yet cold," said +the Mugger. "tomorrow their Gods will die." + +"Ho!" said Peroo. "Mother Gunga talks good talk. I told that to +the padre-sahib who preached on the Mombassa, and he asked the Burra +Malum to put me in irons for a great rudeness." + +"Surely they make these things to please their Gods," said the Bull +again. + +"Not altogether," the Elephant rolled forth. "It is for the profit +of my mahajuns fat money-lenders that worship me at each new year, +when they draw my image at the head of the account-books. I, +looking over their shoulders by lamplight, see that the names in +the books are those of men in far places - for all the towns are +drawn together by the fire-carriage, and the money comes and goes +swiftly, and the account-books grow as fat as myself. And I, who +am Ganesh of Good Luck, I bless my peoples." + +"They have changed the face of the land-which is my land. They have +killed and made new towns on my banks," said the Mugger. + +"It is but the shifting of a little dirt. Let the dirt dig in the +dirt if it pleases the dirt," answered the Elephant. + +"But afterwards? "said the Tiger. "Afterwards they will see that +Mother Gunga can avenge no insult, and they fall away from her +first, and later from us all, one by one. In the end, Ganesh, we +are left with naked altars." + +The drunken Man staggered to his feet, and hiccupped vehemently. + +"Kali lies. My sister lies. Also this my stick is the Kotwal of +Kashi, and he keeps tally of my pilgrims. When the time comes to +worship Bhairon - and it is always time - the fire-carriages move +one by one, and each hears a thousand pilgrims. They do not come +afoot any more, but rolling upon wheels, and my honour is increased." + +"Gunga, I have seen thy bed at Pryag black with the pilgrims," said +the Ape, leaning forward, "and but for the fire-carriage they would +have come slowly and in fewer numbers. Remember." + +"They come to me always," Bhairon went on thickly. "By day and +night they pray to me, all the Common People in the fields and the +roads. Who is like Bhairon today? What talk is this of changing +faiths? Is my staff Kotwal of Kashi for nothing? He keeps the +tally, and he says that never were so many altars as today, and +the fire carriage serves them well. Bhairon am I - Bhairon of the +Common People, and the chiefest of tithe Heavenly Ones today. +Also my staff says -" + +"Peace, thou!" lowed the Bull. "The worship of the schools is mine, +and they talk very wisely, asking whether I be one or many, as is +the delight of my people, and ye know what I am. Kali, my wife, +thou knowest also." + +"Yea, I know," said the Tigress, with lowered head. + +"Greater am I than Gunga also. For ye know who moved the minds of +men that they should count Gunga holy among the rivers. Who die in +that water - ye know how men say - come to us without punishment, +and Gunga knows that the fire-carriage has borne to her scores upon +scores of such anxious ones; and Kali knows that she has held her +chiefest festivals among the pilgrimages that are fed by the +fire-carriage. Who smote at Pooree, under the Image there, her +thousands in a day and a night, and bound the sickness to the wheels +of the fire-carriages, so that it ran from one end of the land to +the other? Who but Kali? Before the fire-carriage came it was a +heavy toil. The fire-carriages have served thee well, Mother of +Death. But I speak for mine own altars, who am not Bhairon of the +Common Folk, but Shiv. Men go to and fro, making words and telling +talk of strange Gods, and I listen. Faith follows faith among my +people in the schools, and I have no anger; for when all words are +said, and the new talk is ended, to Shiv men return at the last." + +"True. It is true," murmured Hanuman. "To Shiv and to the others, +mother, they return. I creep from temple to temple in the North, +where they worship one God and His Prophet; and presently my image +is alone within their shrines." + +"Small thanks," said the Buck, turning his head slowly. "I am that +One and His Prophet also." + +"Even so, father," said Hanuman. "And to the South I go who am the +oldest of the Gods as men know the Gods, and presently I touch the +shrines of the New 'Faith and the Woman whom we know is hewn +twelve-armed, and still they call her Mary." + +Small thanks, brother," said the Tigress. "I am that Woman." + +"Even so, sister; and I go West among the fire-carriages, and stand +before the bridge-builders in many shapes, and because of me they +change their faiths and are very wise. Ho! ho! I am the builder +of bridges, indeed - bridges between this and that, and each bridge +leads surely to Us in the end. Be content, Gunga. + +"Neither these men nor those that follow them mock thee at all." + +"Am I alone, then, Heavenly Ones? Shall I smooth out my flood lest +unhappily I bear away their walls? Will Indra dry my springs in +the hills and make me crawl humbly between their wharfs? Shall I +bury me in the sand ere I offend?" + +"And all for the sake of a little iron bar with the fire-carriage +atop. Truly, Mother Gunga is always young!" said Ganesh the Elephant. +"A child had not spoken more foolishly. Let the dirt dig in the +dirt ere it return to the dirt. I know only that my people grow +rich and praise me. Shiv has said that the men of the schools do +not forget; Bhairon is content for his crowd of the Common People; +and Hanuman laughs." + +"Surely I laugh," said the Ape. "My altars are few beside those of +Ganesh or Bhairon, but the fire-carriages bring me new worshippers +from beyond the Black Water - the men who believe that their God is +toil. I run before them beckoning, and they follow Hanuman." + +"Give them the toil that they desire, then," said the River. "Make +a bar across my flood and throw the water back upon the bridge. +Once thou wast strong in Lanka, Hanuman. Stoop and lift my bed." + +"Who gives life can take life." The Ape scratched in the mud with +a long forefinger. "And yet, who would profit by the killing? Very +many would die." + +There came up from the water a snatch of a love-song such as the +boys sing when they watch their cattle in the noon heats of late +spring. The Parrot screamed joyously, sidling along his branch with +lowered head as the song grew louder, and in a patch of clear +moonlight stood revealed the young herd, the darling of the Gopis, +the idol of dreaming maids and of mothers ere their children are +born - Krishna the Well-beloved. He stooped to knot up his long wet +hair, and the parrot fluttered to his shoulder. + +"Fleeting and singing, and singing and fleeting," hiccupped Bhairon. +"Those make thee late for the council, brother." + +"And then?" said Krishna, with a laugh, throwing back his head. "Ye +can do little without me or Karma here." He fondled the Parrot's +plumage and laughed again. "What is this sitting and talking +together? I heard Mother Gunga roaring in the dark, and so came +quickly from a but where I lay warm. And what have ye done to Karma, +that he is so wet and silent? And what does Mother Gunga here? Are +the heavens full that ye must come paddling in the mud beast-wise? +Karma, what do they do?" + +"Gunga has prayed for a vengeance on the bridgebuilders, and Kali is +with her. Now she bids Hanuman whelm the bridge, that her honour +may be made great," cried the Parrot. "I waited here, knowing that +thou wouldst come, O my master!" + +"And the Heavenly Ones said nothing? Did Gunga and the Mother of +Sorrows out-talk them? Did none speak for my people?" + +"Nay," said Ganesh, moving uneasily from foot to foot; "I said it +was but dirt at play, and why should we stamp it flat?" + +"I was content to let them toil - well content," said Hanuman. + +"What had I to do with Gunga's anger "said the Bull. + +"I am Bhairon of the Common Folk, and this my staff is Kotwal of +all Kashi. I spoke for the Common People." + +"Thou?" The young God's eyes sparkled. + +"Am I not the first of the Gods in their mouths today?" returned +Bhairon, unabashed. "For the sake of the Common People I said very +many wise things which I have now forgotten, but this my staff -" + +Krishna turned impatiently, saw the Mugger at his feet, and kneeling, +slipped an arm round the cold neck. "Mother," he said gently, "get +thee to thy flood again. This matter is not for thee. What harm +shall thy honour take of this live dirt? Thou hast given them their +fields new year after year, and by thy flood they are made strong. +They come all to thee at the last. What need to slay them now? +Have pity, mother, for a little and it is only for a little." + +"If it be only for a little -" the slow beast began. + +"Are they Gods, then?" Krishna, returned with a laugh, his eyes +looking into the dull eyes of the River. "Be certain that it is +only for a little. The Heavenly Ones have heard thee, and +presently justice will be done. Go now, mother, to the flood again. +Men and cattle are thick on the waters - the banks fall - the +villages melt because of thee." + +"But the bridge-the bridge stands." The Mugger turned grunting +into the undergrowth as Krishna rose. + +"It is ended," said the Tigress, viciously. "There is no more +justice from the Heavenly Ones. Ye have made shame and sport of +Gunga, who asked no more than a few score lives." + +"Of my people - who lie under the leaf-roofs of the village yonder + - of the young girls, and the young men who sing to them in the +dark of the child that will be born next morn - of that which was +begotten tonight," said Krishna. "And when all is done, what +profit? Tomorrow sees them at work. Ay, if ye swept the bridge out +from end to end they would begin anew. Hear me! Bhairon is drunk +always. Hanuman mocks his people with new riddles." + +"Nay, but they are very old ones," the Ape said, laughing. + +"Shiv hears the talk of the schools and the dreams of the holy men; +Ganesh thinks only of his fat traders; but I - I live with these my +people, asking for no gifts, and so receiving them hourly." + +"And very tender art thou of thy people," said the Tigress. + +"They are my own. The old women dream of me turning in their sleep; +the maids look and listen for me when they go to fill their lotahs +by the river. I walk by the young men waiting without the gates at +dusk, and I call over my shoulder to the whitebeards. Ye know, +Heavenly Ones, that I alone of us all walk upon the earth continually, +and have no pleasure in our heavens so long ,as a green blade springs +here, or there are two voices at twilight in the standing crops. +Wise are ye, but ye live far off, forgetting whence ye came. So do +I not forget. And the fire-carriage feeds your shrines, ye say? And +the fire-carriages bring a thousand pilgrims where but ten came in +the old years? True. That is true, today." + +But tomorrow they are dead, brother," said Ganesh. + +"Peace!" said the Bull, as Hanuman leaned forward again. "And +tomorrow, beloved - what of tomorrow?" + +"This only. A new word creeping from mouth to mouth among the +Common Folk - a word that neither man nor God can lay hold of - an +evil word - a little lazy word among the Common Folk, saying (and +none know who set that word afoot) that they weary of ye, Heavenly +Ones." + +The Gods laughed together softly. "And then, beloved?" they said. + +"And to cover that weariness they, my people, will bring to thee, +Shiv, and to thee, Ganesh, at first greater offerings and a louder +noise of worship. But the word has gone abroad, and, after, they +will pay fewer dues to our fat Brahmins. Next they will forget your +altars, but so slowly that no man can say how his forgetfulness +began. + +"I knew - I knew! I spoke this also, but they would not hear," said +the Tigress. "We should have slain - we should have slain! " + +"It is too late now. Ye should have slain at the beginning when the +men from across the water had taught our folk nothing. Now my +people see their work, and go away thinking. They do not think of +the Heavenly Ones altogether. They think of the fire-carriage and +the other things that the bridge-builders have done, and when your +priests thrust forward hands asking alms, they give a little +unwillingly. That is the beginning, among one or two, or five or +ten - for I, moving among my people, know what is in their hearts." + +"And the end, Jester of the Gods? What shall the end be? " said +Ganesh. + +"The end shall be as it was in the beginning, O slothful son of +Shiv! The flame shall die upon the altars and the prayer upon the +tongue till ye become little Gods again - Gods of the jungle - names +that the hunters of rats and noosers of dogs whisper in the thicket +and among the caves - rag-Gods, pot Godlings of the tree, and the +villagemark, as ye were at the beginning. That is the end, Ganesh, +for thee, and for Bhairon - Bhairon of the Common People." + +"It is very far away," grunted Bhairon. "Also, it is a lie." + +"Many women have kissed Krishna. They told him this to cheer +their own hearts when the grey hairs came, and he has told us the +tale," said the Bull, below his breath. + +"Their Gods came, and we changed them. I took the Woman and made +her twelve-armed. So shall we twist all their Gods," said Hanuman. + +" Their Gods! This is no question of their Gods - one or three - man +or woman. The matter is with the people. They move, and not the +Gods of the bridgebuilders," said Krishna. + +"So be it. I have made a man worship the fire-carriage as it stood +still breathing smoke, and he knew not that he worshipped me," said +Hanuman the Ape. "They will only change a little the names of their +Gods. I shall lead the builders of the bridges as of old; Shiv +shall be worshipped in the schools by such as doubt and despise +their fellows; Ganesh shall have his mahajuns, and Bhairon the +donkey-drivers, the pilgrims, and the sellers of toys. Beloved, +they will do no more than change the names, and that we have seen +a thousand times." + +"Surely they will do no more than change the names," echoed Ganesh; +but there was an uneasy movement among the Gods. + +"They will change more than the names. Me alone they cannot kill, +so long as a maiden and a man meet together or the spring follows +the winter rains. Heavenly Ones, not for nothing have I walked +upon the earth. My people know not now what they know; but I, who +live with them, I read their hearts. Great Kings, the beginning +of the end is born already. The fire-carriages shout the names of +new Gods that are not the old under new names. Drink now and eat +greatly! Bathe your faces in the smoke of the altars before they +grow cold! Take dues and listen to the cymbals and the drums, +Heavenly Ones, while yet there are flowers and songs. As men count +time the end is far off; but as we who know reckon it is today. I +have spoken." + +The young God ceased, and his brethren looked at each other long +in silence. + +"This I have not heard before," Peroo whispered in his companion's +ear. "And yet sometimes, when I oiled the brasses in the +engine-room of the Goorkha, I have wondered if our priests were so +wise - so wise. The day is coming, Sahib. They will be gone by +the morning." + +A yellow light broadened in the sky, and the tone of the river +changed as the darkness withdrew. + +Suddenly the Elephant trumpeted aloud as though man had goaded him. + +"Let Indra judge. Father of all, speak thou! What of the things +we have heard? Has Krishna lied indeed? Or -" + +"Ye know, " said the Buck, rising to his feet. "Ye know the Riddle +of the Gods. When Brahm ceases to dream, the Heavens and the Hells +and Earth disappear. Be content. Brahm dreams still. The dreams +come and go, and the nature of the dreams changes, but still Brahm +dreams. Krishna has walked too long upon earth, and yet I love him +the more for the tale he has told. The Gods change, beloved-all +save One!" + +"Ay, all save one that makes love in the hearts of men," said +Krishna, knotting his girdle. "It is but a little time to wait, +and ye shall know if I lie." + +"Truly it is but a little time, as thou sayest, and we shall know. +Get thee to thy huts again, beloved, and make sport for the young +things, for still Brahm dreams. Go, my children! Brahm dreams + - and till he wakes the Gods die not." + +"Whither went they?" said the Lascar, awe-struck, shivering a +little with the cold. + +"God knows!" said Findlayson. The river and the island lay in +full daylight now, and there was never mark of hoof or pug on the +wet earth under the peepul. Only a parrot screamed in the branches, +bringing down showers of water-drops as he fluttered his wings. + +"Up! We are cramped with cold! Has the opium died out? Canst +thou move, Sahib?" + +Findlayson staggered to his feet and shook himself. His head swam +and ached, but the work of the opium was over, and, as he sluiced +his forehead in a pool, the Chief Engineer of the Kashi Bridge was +wondering how he had managed to fall upon the island, what chances +the day offered of return, and, above all, how his work stood. + +"Peroo, I have forgotten much. I was under the guard-tower watching +the river; and then . . . . Did the flood sweep us away?" + +"No. The boats broke loose, Sahib, and" (if the Sahib had forgotten +about the opium, decidedly Peroo would not remind him) "in striving +to retie them, so it seemed to me - but it was darka rope caught the +Sahib and threw him upon a boat. Considering that we two, with +Hitchcock Sahib, built, as it were, that bridge, I came also upon +the boat, which came riding on horseback, as it were, on the nose of +this island, and so, splitting, cast us ashore. I made a great cry +when the boat left the wharf, and without doubt Hitchcock Sahib will +come for us. As for the bridge, so many have died in the building +that it cannot fall." + +A fierce sun, that drew out all the smell of the sodden land, had +followed the storm, and in that clear light there was no room for +a man to think of the dreams of the dark. Findlayson stared +up-stream, across the blaze of moving water, till his eyes ached. +There was no sign of any bank to the Ganges, much less of a +bridgeline. + +"We came down far," he said. "It was wonderful that we were not +drowned a hundred times." + +"That was the least of the wonder, for no man dies before his time. +I have seen Sydney, I have seen London, and twenty great ports, but" + - Peroo looked at the damp, discoloured shrine under the "peopul -" +never man has seen that we saw here." + +"What?" + +"Has the Sahib forgotten; or do we black men only see the Gods?" + +"There was a fever upon me." Findlayson was still looking uneasily +across the water. "It seemed that the island was full of beasts +and men talking, but I do not remember. A boat could live in this +water now, I think." + +"Oho! Then it is true. 'When Brahm ceases to dream, the Gods die.' +Now I know, indeed, what he meant. Once, too, the guru said as much +to me; but then I did not understand. Now I am wise." + +"What?" said Findlayson, over his shoulder. + +Peroo went on as if he were talking to himself. " Six-seven-ten +monsoons since, I was watch on the fo'c'sle of the ehwah - the +Kumpani's big boat-and there was a big tufan; green and black water +beating, and I held fast to the life-lines, choking under the waters. +Then I thought of the Gods - of Those whom we saw tonight" - he +stared curiously at Findlayson's back, but the white man was looking +across the flood. "Yes, I say of Those whom we saw this night past, +and I called upon Them to protect me. And while I prayed, still +keeping my lookout, a big wave came and threw me forward upon the +ring of the great black bowanchor, and the Rewah rose high and high, +leaning towards the lefthand side, and the water drew away from +beneath her nose, and I lay upon my belly, holding the ring, and +looking down into those great deeps. Then I thought, even in the +face of death: If I lose hold I die, and for me neither the Rewah nor +my place by the galley where the rice is cooked, nor Bombay, nor +Calcutta, nor even London, will be any more for me. 'How shall I be +sure,' I said, that the Gods to whom I pray will abide at all?' This +I thought, and the Rewah dropped her nose as a hammer falls, and all +the sea came in and slid me backwards along the fo'c'sle and over +the break of the fo'c'sle, and I very badly bruised my shin against +the donkey-engine: but I did not die, and I have seen the Gods. +They are good for live men, but for the dead . . . They have spoken +Themselves. Therefore, when I come to the village I will beat the +guru for talking riddles which are no riddles. When Brahm ceases to +dream the Gods go." + +"Look up-stream. The light blinds. Is there smoke yonder?" + +Peroo shaded his eyes with his hands. "He is a wise man and quick. +Hitchcock Sahib would not trust a rowboat. He has borrowed the +Rao Sahib's steam launch, and comes to look for us. I have always +said that there should have been a steam-launch on the bridge works +for us." + +The territory of the Rao of Baraon lay within ten miles of the +bridge; and Findlayson and Hitchcock had spent a fair portion of +their scanty leisure in playing billiards and shooting black-buck +with the young man. He had been bear-led by an English tutor of +sporting tastes for some five or six years, and was now royally +wasting the revenues accumulated during his minority by the Indian +Government. His steam-launch, with its silverplated rails, striped +silk awning, and mahogany decks, was a new toy which Findlayson +had found horribly in the way when the Rao came to look at the +bridge works. + +"It's great luck," murmured Findlayson, but he was none the less +afraid, wondering what news might be of the bridge. + +The gaudy blue and white funnel came down-stream swiftly. They +could see Hitchcock in the bows, with a pair of opera-glasses, and +his face was unusually white. Then Peroo hailed, and the launch +made for the tail of the island. The Rao Sahib, in tweed +shooting-suit and a seven-hued turban, waved his royal hand, and +Hitchcock shouted. But he need have asked no questions, for +Findlayson's first demand was for his bridge. + +"All serene! Gad, I never expected to see you again, Findlayson. +You're seven koss down-stream. Yes; there's not a stone shifted +anywhere; but how are you? I borrowed the Rao Sahib's launch, and +he was good enough to come along. Jump in." + +"Ah, Finlinson, you are very well, eh? That was most unprecedented +calamity last night, eh? My royal palace, too, it leaks like the +devil, and the crops will also be short all about my country. Now +you shall back her out, Hitchcock. I - I do not understand +steam engines. You are wet? You are cold, Finlinson? I have some +things to eat here, and you will take a good drink." + +"I'm immensely grateful, Rao Sahib. I believe you've saved my life. +How did Hitchcock -" + +"Oho! His hair was upon end. He rode to me in the middle of the +night and woke me up in the arms of Morpheus. I was most truly +concerned, Finlinson, so I came too. My head-priest he is very +angry just now. We will go quick, Mister Hitchcock. I am due to +attend at twelve forty-five in the state temple, where we sanctify +some new idol. If not so I would have asked you to spend the day +with me. They are dam-bore, these religious ceremonies, Finlinson, +eh?" + +Peroo, well known to the crew, had possessed himself of the inlaid +wheel, and was taking the launch craftily up-stream. But while he +steered he was, in his mind, handling two feet of partially untwisted +wire-rope; and the back upon which he beat was the back of his guru. + + + + +A WALKING DELEGATE + + +According to the custom of Vermont, Sunday afternoon is salting-time +on the farm, and, unless something very important happens, we attend +to the salting ourselves. Dave and Pete, the red oxen, are treated +first; they stay in the home meadow ready for work on Monday. Then +come the cows, with Pan, the calf, who should have been turned into +veal long ago, but survived on account of his manners; and lastly +the horses, scattered through the seventy acres of the Back Pasture. + +You must go down by the brook that feeds the clicking, bubbling +water-ram; up through the sugar-bush, where the young maple +undergrowth closes round you like a shallow sea; next follow the +faint line of an old county-road running past two green hollows +fringed with wild rose that mark the cellars of two ruined houses; +then by Lost Orchard, where nobody ever comes except in cider-time; +then across another brook, and so into the Back Pasture. Half of +it is pine and hemlock and Spruce, with sumach and little juniper +bushes, and the other half is grey rock and boulder and moss, with +green streaks of brake and swamp; but the horses like it well +enough - our own, and the others that are turned down there to +feed at fifty cents a week. Most people walk to the Back Pasture, +and find it very rough work; but one can get there in a buggy, if +the horse knows what is expected of him. The safest conveyance is +our coupe. This began life as a buckboard, and we bought it for +five dollars from a sorrowful man who had no other sort of +possessions; and the seat came off one night when we were turning a +corner in a hurry. After that alteration it made a beautiful +salting-machine, if you held tight, because there was nothing to +catch your feet when you fell out, and the slats rattled tunes. + +One Sunday afternoon we went out with the salt as usual. It was +a broiling hot day, and we could not find the horses anywhere till +we let Tedda Gabler, the bobtailed mare who throws up the dirt with +her big hooves exactly as a tedder throws hay, have her head. +Clever as she is, she tipped the coupe over in a hidden brook before +she came out on a ledge of rock where all the horses had gathered, +and were switching flies. The Deacon was the first to call to her. +He is a very dark iron-grey four-year-old, son of Grandee. He has +been handled since he was two, was driven in a light cart before he +was three, and now ranks as an absolutely steady lady's horse - +proof against steam-rollers, grade-crossings, and street processions. + +"Salt!" said the Deacon, joyfully. "You're dreffle late, Tedda." + +"Any - any place to cramp the coupe?" Tedda panted. "It weighs +turr'ble this weather. I'd 'a' come sooner, but they didn't know +what they wanted - ner haow. Fell out twice, both of 'em. I don't +understand sech foolishness." + +"You look consider'ble het up. 'Guess you'd better cramp her under +them pines, an' cool off a piece." + +Tedda scrambled on the ledge, and cramped the coupe in the shade of +a tiny little wood of pines, while my companion and I lay down +among the brown, silky needles, and gasped. All the home horses +were gathered round us, enjoying their Sunday leisure. + +There were Rod and Rick, the seniors on the farm. They were the +regular road-pair, bay with black points, full brothers, aged, sons +of a Hambletonian sire and a Morgan dam. There were Nip and Tuck, +seal-browns, rising six, brother and sister, Black Hawks by birth, +perfectly matched, just finishing their education, and as handsome +a pair as man could wish to find in a forty-mile drive. There was +Muldoon, our ex-car-horse, bought at a venture, and any colour you +choose that is not white; and Tweezy, who comes from Kentucky, with +an affliction of his left hip, which makes him a little uncertain +how his hind legs are moving. He and Muldoon had been hauling +gravel all the week for our new road. The Deacon you know already. +Last of all, and eating something, was our faithful Marcus Aurelius +Antoninus, the black buggy-horse, who had seen us through every +state of weather and road, the horse who was always standing in +harness before some door or other - a philosopher with the appetite +of a shark and the manners of an archbishop. Tedda Gabler was a +new "trade," with a reputation for vice which was really the result +of bad driving. She had one working gait, which she could hold +till further notice; a Roman nose; a large, prominent eye; a +shaving-brush of a tail; and an irritable temper. She took her +salt through her bridle; but the others trotted up nuzzling and +wickering for theirs, till we emptied it on the clean rocks. They +were all standing at ease, on three legs for the most part, talking +the ordinary gossip of the Back Pasture - about the scarcity of +water, and gaps in the fence, and how the early windfalls tasted +that season - when little Rick blew the last few grains of his +allowance into a crevice, and said: + +"Hurry, boys! 'Might ha' knowed that livery plug would be around." + +We heard a clatter of hooves, and there climbed up from the ravine +below a fifty-center transient - a wall-eyed, yellow frame-house of +a horse, sent up to board from a livery-stable in town, where they +called him "The Lamb," and never let him out except at night and to +strangers. My companion, who knew and had broken most of the horses, +looked at the ragged hammer-head as it rose, and said quietly: + +"Ni-ice beast. Man-eater, if he gets the chance - see his eye. +Kicker, too - see his hocks. Western horse." + +The animal lumbered up, snuffling and grunting. His feet showed +that he had not worked for weeks and weeks, and our creatures drew +together significantly. + +"As usual," he said, with an underhung sneer - "bowin' your heads +before the Oppressor that comes to spend his leisure gloatin' over +you." + +"Mine's done," said the Deacon; he licked up the remnant of his +salt, dropped his nose in his master's hand, and sang a little +grace all to himself. The Deacon has the most enchanting manners +of any one I know. + +"An' fawnin' on them for what is your inalienable right. It's +humiliatin'," said the yellow horse, sniffing to see if he could +find a few spare grains. + +"Go daown hill, then, Boney," the Deacon replied. "Guess you'll +find somethin' to eat still, if yer hain't hogged it all. You've +ett more'n any three of us to-day - an' day 'fore that - an' the +last two months - sence you've been here." + +"I am not addressin' myself to the young an' immature. I am +speakin' to those whose opinion an' experience commands respect." + +I saw Rod raise his head as though he were about to make a remark; +then he dropped it again, and stood three-cornered, like a +plough-horse. Rod can cover his mile in a shade under three minutes +on an ordinary road to an ordinary buggy. He is tremendously +powerful behind, but, like most Hambletonians, he grows a trifle +sullen as he gets older. No one can love Rod very much; but no one +can help respecting him. + +"I wish to wake those," the yellow horse went on, "to an abidin' +sense o' their wrongs an' their injuries an' their outrages." + +"Haow's that?" said Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, dreamily. He +thought Boney was talking of some kind of feed. + +"An' when I say outrages and injuries" - Boney waved his tail +furiously "I mean 'em, too. Great Oats! That's just what I do +mean, plain an' straight." + +"The gentleman talks quite earnest," said Tuck, the mare, to Nip, +her brother. There's no doubt thinkin' broadens the horizons o' the +mind. His language is quite lofty." + +"Hesh, sis," Nip answered. + +"He hain't widened nothin' 'cep' the circle he's ett in pasture. +They feed words fer beddin' where he comes from." + +"It's elegant talkin', though," Tuck returned, with an unconvinced +toss of her pretty, lean little head. + +The yellow horse heard her, and struck an attitude which he meant +to be extremely impressive. It made him look as though he had +been badly stuffed. + +"Now I ask you, I ask you without prejudice an' without favour, - +what has Man the Oppressor ever done for you? - Are you not +inalienably entitled to the free air o' heaven, blowin' acrost this +boundless prairie?" + +"Hev ye ever wintered here?" said the Deacon, merrily, while the +others snickered. "It's kinder cool." + +"Not yet," said Boney. "I come from the boundless confines o' +Kansas, where the noblest of our kind have their abidin' place among +the sunflowers on the threshold o' the settin' sun in his glory." + +"An' they sent you ahead as a sample?" said Rick, with an amused +quiver of his long, beautifully groomed tail, as thick and as fine +and as wavy as a quadroon's back hair. + +"Kansas, sir, needs no advertisement. Her native sons rely on +themselves an' their native sires. Yes, sir." + +Then Tweezy lifted up his wise and polite old head. His affliction +makes him bashful as a rule, but he is ever the most courteous of +horses. + +"Excuse me, suh," he said slowly, "but, unless I have been +misinfohmed, most of your prominent siahs, suh, are impo'ted from +Kentucky; an' I'm from Paduky." + +There was the least little touch of pride in the last words. + +"Any horse dat knows beans," said Muldoon, suddenly (he had been +standing with his hairy chin on Tweezy's broad quarters), "gits +outer Kansas 'fore dey crip his shoes. I blew in dere from Ioway +in de days o' me youth an' innocence, an' I wuz grateful when dey +boxed me fer N' York. You can't tell me anything about Kansas I +don't wanter fergit. De Belt Line stables ain't no Hoffman House, +but dey're Vanderbilts 'longside o' Kansas." + +"What the horses o' Kansas think to-day, the horses of America will +think to-morrow; an' I tell you that when the horses of America +rise in their might, the day o' the Oppressor is ended." + +There was a pause, till Rick said, with a little grunt: + +"Ef you put it that way, every one of us has riz in his might, 'cep' +Marcus, mebbe. Marky, 'j ever rise in yer might?" + +"Nope," said Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, thoughtfully quidding over +a mouthful of grass. "I seen a heap o' fools try, though." + +"You admit that you riz?" said the Kansas horse, excitedly. "Then +why - why in Kansas did you ever go under again?" + +"Horse can't walk on his hind legs all the time," said the Deacon. + +"Not when he's jerked over on his back 'fore he knows what fetched +him. We've all done it, Boney," said Rick. "Nip an' Tuck they +tried it, spite o' what the Deacon told 'em; an' the Deacon he tried +it, spite o' what me an' Rod told him; an' me an' Rod tried it, +spite o' what Grandee told us; an' I guess Grandee he tried it, spite +o' what his dam told him. It's the same old circus from generation +to generation. 'Colt can't see why he's called on to back. Same +old rearm' on end - straight up. Same old feelin' that you've bested +'em this time. Same old little yank at your mouth when you're up +good an' tall. Same old Pegasus-act, wonderin' where you'll 'light. +Same old wop when you hit the dirt with your head where your tail +should be, and your in'ards shook up like a bran-mash. Same old +voice in your ear: 'Waal, ye little fool, an' what did you reckon +to make by that?' We're through with risin in our might on this +farm. We go to pole er single, accordin' ez we're hitched." + +"An' Man the Oppressor sets an' gloats over you, same as he's settin' +now. Hain't that been your experience, madam?" + +This last remark was addressed to Tedda; and any one could see with +half an eye that poor, old anxious, fidgety Tedda, stamping at the +flies, must have left a wild and tumultuous youth behind her. + +"'Pends on the man," she answered, shifting from one foot to the +other, and addressing herself to the home horses. "They abused me +dreffle when I was young. I guess I was sperrity an' nervous some, +but they didn't allow for that. 'Twas in Monroe County, Noo York, +an' sence then till I come here, I've run away with more men than +'u'd fill a boardin'-house. Why, the man that sold me here he says +to the boss, s' he: 'Mind, now, I've warned you. 'Twon't be none +of my fault if she sheds you daown the road. Don't you drive her +in a top-buggy, ner 'thout winkers,' s' he, 'ner 'thought this bit +ef you look to come home behind her.' 'N' the fust thing the boss +did was to git the top-buggy. + +"Can't say as I like top-buggies," said Rick; "they don't balance +good." + +"Suit me to a ha'ar," said Marcus Aurelius Antoninus. "Top-buggy +means the baby's in behind, an' I kin stop while she gathers the +pretty flowers - yes, an' pick a maouthful, too. The women-folk +all say I hev to be humoured, an' I don't kerry things to the +sweatin'-point." + +"'Course I've no prejudice against a top-buggy s' long's I can +see it," Tedda went on quickly. "It's ha'f-seein' the pesky thing +bobbin' an' balancn' behind the winkers gits on my nerves. Then +the boss looked at the bit they'd sold with me, an' s' he: 'Jiminy +Christmas! This 'u'd make a clothes-horse Stan' 'n end!' Then he +gave me a plain bar bit, an' fitted it's if there was some feelin' +to my maouth." + +"Hain't ye got any, Miss Tedda?" said Tuck, who has a mouth like +velvet, and knows it. + +"Might 'a' had, Miss Tuck, but I've forgot. Then he give me an +open bridle,- my style's an open bridle - an' - I dunno as I ought +to tell this by rights -he - give - me - a kiss." + +"My!" said Tuck, "I can't tell fer the shoes o' me what makes some +men so fresh." + +"Pshaw, sis," said Nip, "what's the sense in actin' so? You git a +kiss reg'lar's hitchin'-up time." + +"Well, you needn't tell, smarty," said Tuck, with a squeal and a +kick. + +"I'd heard o' kisses, o' course," Tedda went on, "but they hadn't +come my way specially. I don't mind tellin' I was that took aback +at that man's doin's he might ha' lit fire-crackers on my saddle. +Then we went out jest's if a kiss was nothin', an' I wasn't three +strides into my gait 'fore I felt the boss knoo his business, an' +was trustin' me. So I studied to please him, an' he never took the +whip from the dash - a whip drives me plumb distracted - an' the +upshot was that - waal, I've come up the Back Pasture to-day, an' +the coupe's tipped clear over twice, an' I've waited till 'twuz +fixed each time. You kin judge for yourselves. I don't set up to +be no better than my neighbours, - specially with my tail snipped +off the way 'tis,- but I want you all to know Tedda's quit fightin' +in harness or out of it, 'cep' when there's a born fool in the +pasture, stuffin' his stummick with board that ain't rightly hisn, +'cause he hain't earned it." + +"Meanin' me, madam?" said the yellow horse. + +"Ef the shoe fits, clinch it," said Tedda, snorting. "I named no +names, though, to be sure, some folks are mean enough an' greedy +enough to do 'thout 'em." + +"There's a deal to be forgiven to ignorance," said the yellow horse, +with an ugly look in his blue eye. + +"Seemin'ly, yes; or some folks 'u'd ha' been kicked raound the +pasture 'bout onct a minute sence they came - board er no board." + +"But what you do not understand, if you will excuse me, madam, is +that the whole principle o' servitood, which includes keep an' feed, +starts from a radically false basis; an' I am proud to say that me +an' the majority o' the horses o' Kansas think the entire concern +should be relegated to the limbo of exploded superstitions. I say +we're too progressive for that. I say we're too enlightened for +that. 'Twas good enough's long's we didn't think, but naow - +but naow - a new loominary has arisen on the horizon!" + +"Meanin' you?" said the Deacon. + +"The horses o' Kansas are behind me with their multitoodinous +thunderin' hooves, an' we say, simply but grandly, that we take +our stand with all four feet on the inalienable rights of the horse, +pure and simple,- the high-toned child o' nature, fed by the same +wavin' grass, cooled by the same ripplin' brook - yes, an' warmed +by the same gen'rous sun as falls impartially on the outside an' +the inside of the pampered machine o' the trottin'-track, or the +bloated coupe-horses o' these yere Eastern cities. Are we not the +same flesh an' blood?" + +"Not by a bushel an' a half," said the Deacon, under his breath. +"Grandee never was in Kansas." + +"My! Ain't that elegant, though, abaout the wavin' grass an' the +ripplin' brooks?" Tuck whispered in Nip's ear. "The gentleman's +real convincin' I think." + +"I say we are the same flesh an' blood! Are we to be separated, +horse from horse, by the artificial barriers of a trottin'-record, +or are we to look down upon each other on the strength o' the gifts +o' nature - an extry inch below the knee, or slightly more powerful +quarters? What's the use o' them advantages to you? Man the +Oppressor comes along, an' sees you're likely an' good-lookin', an' +grinds you to the face o' the earth. What for? For his own +pleasure: for his own convenience! Young an' old, black an' bay, +white an' grey, there's no distinctions made between us. We're +ground up together under the remorseless teeth o' the engines of +oppression !" + +"Guess his breechin' must ha' broke goin' daown-hill," said the +Deacon. "Slippery road, maybe, an' the buggy come onter him, an' +he didn't know 'nough to hold back. That don't feel like teeth, +though. Maybe he busted a shaft, an' it pricked him." + +"An' I come to you from Kansas, wavin' the tail o' friendship to +all an' sundry, an' in the name of the uncounted millions o' +pure-minded, high-toned horses now strugglin' towards the light +o' freedom, I say to you, Rub noses with us in our sacred an' holy +cause. The power is yourn. Without you, I say, Man the Oppressor +cannot move himself from place to place. Without you he cannot +reap, he cannot sow, he cannot plough." + +"Mighty odd place, Kansas!" said Marcus Aurelius Antoninus. +"Seemin'ly they reap in the spring an' plough in the fall. 'Guess +it's right fer them, but 'twould make me kinder giddy." + +"The produc's of your untirin' industry would rot on the ground if +you did not weakly consent to help him. Let 'em rot, I say! Let +him call you to the stables in vain an' nevermore! Let him shake +his ensnarin' oats under your nose in vain! Let the Brahmas roost +in the buggy, an' the rats run riot round the reaper! Let him +walk on his two hind feet till they blame well drop off! Win no +more soul-destroyn' races for his pleasure! Then, an' not till +then, will Man the Oppressor know where he's at. Quit workin', +fellow-sufferers an' slaves! Kick! Rear! Plunge! Lie down on +the shafts, an' woller! Smash an' destroy! The conflict will be +but short, an' the victory is certain. After that we can press +our inalienable rights to eight quarts o' oats a day, two good +blankets, an' a fly-net an' the best o' stablin'." + +The yellow horse shut his yellow teeth with a triumphant snap; and +Tuck said, with a sigh: 'Seems's if somethin' ought to be done. +Don't seem right, somehow, - oppressin' us an all, - to my way o' +thinkin'." + +Said Muldoon, in a far-away and sleepy voice: + +"Who in Vermont's goin' to haul de inalienable oats? Dey weigh +like Sam Hill, an' sixty bushel at dat allowance ain't goin' to +last t'ree weeks here. An' dere's de winter hay for five mont's!" + +"We can settle those minor details when the great cause is won," +said the yellow horse. "Let us return simply but grandly to our +inalienable rights - the right o' freedom on these yere verdant +hills, an' no invijjus distinctions o' track an' pedigree:" + +"What in stables 'jer call an invijjus distinction?" said the +Deacon, stiffly. + +"Fer one thing, bein' a bloated, pampered trotter jest because you +happen to be raised that way, an' couldn't no more help trottin' +than eatin'." + +"Do ye know anythin' about trotters?" said the Deacon. + +"I've seen 'em trot. That was enough for me. I don't want to know +any more. Trottin''s immoral." + +"Waal, I'll tell you this much. They don't bloat, an' they don't +pamp - much. I don't hold out to be no trotter myself, though I +am free to say I had hopes that way - onct. But I do say, fer I've +seen 'em trained, that a trotter don't trot with his feet: he trots +with his head; an' he does more work - ef you know what that is - +in a week than you er your sire ever done in all your lives. He's +everlastingly at it, a trotter is; an' when he isn't, he's studyin' +haow. You seen 'em trot? Much you hev! You was hitched to a rail, +back o' the stand, in a buckboard with a soap-box nailed on the +slats, an' a frowzy buff'lo atop, while your man peddled rum fer +lemonade to little boys as thought they was actin' manly, till you +was both run off the track an' jailed - you intoed, shufflin', +sway-backed, wind-suckin' skate, you!" + +"Don't get het up, Deacon," said Tweezy, quietly. "Now, suh, would +you consider a fox-trot, an' single-foot, an' rack, an' pace, an' +amble, distinctions not worth distinguishin'? I assuah you, +gentlemen, there was a time befo' I was afflicted in my hip, if +you'll pardon me, Miss Tuck, when I was quite celebrated in Paduky +for all those gaits; an in my opinion the Deacon's co'rect when he +says that a ho'se of any position in society gets his gaits by his +haid, an' not by - his, ah, limbs, Miss Tuck. I reckon I'm very +little good now, but I'm rememberin' the things I used to do befo' +I took to transpo'tin' real estate with the help an' assistance of +this gentleman here." He looked at Muldoon. + +"Invijjus arterficial hind legs!" said the ex-carhorse, with a grunt +of contempt. "On de Belt Line we don't reckon no horse wuth his +keep 'less he kin switch de car off de track, run her round on de +cobbles, an' dump her in ag'in ahead o' de truck what's blockin' +him. Dere is a way o' swingin' yer quarters when de driver says, +'Yank her out, boys!' dat takes a year to learn. Onct yer git onter +it, youse kin yank a cable-car outer a manhole. I don't advertise +myself for no circus-horse, but I knew dat trick better than most, +an' dey was good to me in de stables, fer I saved time on de Belt +- an' time's what dey hunt in N' York." + +"But the simple child o' nature -" the yellow horse began. + +"Oh, go an' unscrew yer splints! You're talkin' through yer +bandages," said Muldoon, with a horse-laugh. "Dere ain't no +loose-box for de simple child o' nature on de Belt Line, wid de +Paris comin' in an' de Teutonic goin' out, an' de trucks an' de +coupe's sayin' things, an' de heavy freight movin' down fer de +Boston boat 'bout t'ree o'clock of an August afternoon, in de +middle of a hot wave when de fat Kanucks an' Western horses drops +dead on de block. De simple child o' nature had better chase +himself inter de water. Every man at de end of his lines is mad +or loaded or silly, an' de cop's madder an' loadeder an' sillier +than de rest. Dey all take it outer de horses. Dere's no wavin' +brooks ner ripplin' grass on de Belt Line. Run her out on de +cobbles wid de sparks flyin', an' stop when de cop slugs you on +de bone o' yer nose. Dat's N'York; see? + + "I was always told s'ciety in Noo York was dreffle refined an' +high-toned," said Tuck. "We're lookin' to go there one o' these +days, Nip an' me." + +"Oh, you won't see no Belt business where you'll go, miss. De man +dat wants you'll want bad, an' he'll summer you on Long Island er +at Newport, wid a winky-pinky silver harness an' an English coachman. +You'll make a star-hitch, you an' yer brother, miss. But I guess +you won't have no nice smooth bar bit. Dey checks 'em, an' dey bangs +deir tails, an' dey bits 'em, de city folk, an' dey says it's +English, ye know, an' dey darsen't cut a horse loose 'ca'se o' de +cops. N' York's no place fer a horse, 'less he's on de Belt, an' +can go round wid de boys. Wisht I was in de Fire Department!" + +"But did you never stop to consider the degradin' servitood of it +all?" said the yellow horse. + +"You don't stop on de Belt, cully. You're stopped. An' we was all +in de servitood business, man an' horse, an' Jimmy dat sold de +papers. Guess de passengers weren't out to grass neither, by de +way dey acted. I done my turn, an' I'm none o' Barnum's crowd; but +any horse dat's worked on de Belt four years don't train wid no +simple child o' nature - not by de whole length o' N' York." + +"But can it be possible that with your experience, and at your time +of life, you do not believe that all horses are free and equal?" +said the yellow horse. + +"Not till they're dead," Muldoon answered quietly. "An' den it +depends on de gross total o' buttons an' mucilage dey gits outer +youse at Barren Island." + +"They tell me you're a prominent philosopher." The yellow horse +turned to Marcus. "Can you deny a basic and pivotal statement such +as this?" + +"I don't deny anythin'," said Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, cautiously; +"but ef you ast me, I should say 'twuz more different sorts o' +clipped oats of a lie than anythin' I've had my teeth into sence I +wuz foaled." + +"Are you a horse?" said the yellow horse. + +"Them that knows me best 'low I am." + +"Ain't I a horse?" + +"Yep; one kind of." + +"Then ain't you an' me equal?" + +"How fer kin you go in a day to a loaded buggy, drawin' five hundred +pounds?" Marcus asked carelessly. + +"That has nothing to do with the case," the yellow horse answered +excitedly. + +"There's nothing I know hez more to do with the case," Marcus replied. + +"Kin ye yank a full car outer de tracks ten times in de mornin'?" +said Muldoon. + +"Kin ye go to Keene - forty-two mile in an afternoon - with a mate," +said Rick; "an' turn out bright an' early next mornin'?" + +"Was there evah any time in your careah, suh - I am not referrin' +to the present circumstances, but our mutual glorious past - when +you could carry a pretty girl to market hahnsome, an' let her knit +all the way on account o' the smoothness o' the motion?" said Tweezy. + +"Kin you keep your feet through the West River Bridge, with the +narrer-gage comin' in on one side, an' the Montreal flyer the other, +an' the old bridge teeterin' between?" said the Deacon. "Kin you +put your nose down on the cow-catcher of a locomotive when you're +waitin' at the depot an' let 'em play 'Curfew shall not ring +to-night' with the big brass bell?" + +"Kin you hold back when the brichin' breaks? Kin you stop fer orders +when your nigh hind leg's over your trace an' ye feel good of a +frosty mornin'?" said Nip, who had only learned that trick last +winter, and thought it was the crown of horsely knowledge. + +"What's the use o' talk in'?" said Tedda Gabler, scornfully. "What +kin ye do?" + +"I rely on my simple rights - the inalienable rights o' my +unfettered horsehood. An' I am proud to say I have never, since +my first shoes, lowered myself to obeyin' the will o' man." + +"'Must ha' had a heap o' whips broke over yer yaller back," said +Tedda. "Hev ye found it paid any?" + +"Sorrer has been my portion since the day I was foaled. Blows an' +boots an' whips an' insults - injury, outrage, an' oppression. I +would not endoor the degradin' badges o' servitood that connect us +with the buggy an' the farm-wagon." + +"It's amazin' difficult to draw a buggy 'thout traces er collar er +breast-strap er somefin'," said Marcus. "A Power-machine for sawin' +wood is most the only thing there's no straps to. I've helped saw +'s much as three cord in an afternoon in a Power-machine. Slep', +too, most o' the time, I did; but 'tain't half as interestin' ez +goin' daown-taown in the Concord." + +"Concord don't hender you goin' to sleep any," said Nip. "My +throat-lash! D'you remember when you lay down in the sharves last +week, waitin' at the piazza?" + +"Pshaw! That didn't hurt the sharves. They wuz good an' wide, an' +I lay down keerful. The folks kep' me hitched up nigh an hour +'fore they started; an' larfed - why, they all but lay down +themselves with larfin'. Say, Boney, if you've got to be hitched +to anything that goes on wheels, you've got to be hitched with +somefin'." + +"Go an' jine a circus," said Muldoon, "an' walk on your hind legs. +All de horses dat knows too much to work [he pronounced it "woik," +New York fashion] jine de circus." + +"I am not sayin' anythin' again' work," said the yellow horse; +"work is the finest thing in the world." + +"'Seems too fine fer some of us," Tedda snorted. + +"I only ask that each horse should work for himself, an' enjoy +the profit of his labours. Let him work intelligently, an' not +as a machine." + +"There ain't no horse that works like a machine," Marcus began. + +"There's no way o' workin' that doesn't mean goin' to pole er +single - they never put me in the Power-machine - er under saddle," +said Rick. + +"Oh, shucks! We're talkin' same ez we graze," said Nip, "raound an' +raound in circles. Rod, we hain't heard from you yet, an' you've +more know-how than any span here." + +Rod, the off-horse of the pair, had been standing with one hip +lifted, like a tired cow; and you could only tell by the quick +flutter of the haw across his eye, from time to time, that he was +paying any attention to the argument. He thrust his jaw out +sidewise, as his habit is when he pulls, and changed his leg. His +voice was hard and heavy, and his ears were close to his big, plain +Hambletonian head. + +"How old are you?" he said to the yellow horse. + +"Nigh thirteen, I guess." + +"Mean age; ugly age; I'm gettin' that way myself. How long hev ye +been pawin' this firefanged stable-litter?" + +"If you mean my principles, I've held 'em sence I was three." + +"Mean age; ugly age; teeth give heaps o' trouble then. 'Set a colt +to actin' crazy fer a while. You've kep' it up, seemin'ly. D'ye +talk much to your neighbours fer a steady thing?" + +"I uphold the principles o' the Cause wherever I am pastured." + +"'Done a heap o' good, I guess?" + +"I am proud to say I have taught a few of my companions the +principles o' freedom an' liberty." + +"Meanin' they ran away er kicked when they got the chanst?" + +"I was talkin' in the abstrac', an' not in the concrete. My +teachin's educated them." + +"What a horse, specially a young horse, hears in the abstrac', he's +liable to do in the Concord. You was handled late, I presoom." + +"Four, risin' five." + +"That's where the trouble began. Driv' by a woman, like ez not - +eh?" + +"Not fer long," said the yellow horse, with a snap of his teeth. + +"Spilled her?" + +"I heerd she never drove again." + +"Any childern?" + +"Buckboards full of 'em." + +"Men too?" + +"I have shed conside'ble men in my time." + +"By kickin'?" + +"Any way that come along. Fallin' back over the dash is as handy +as most." + +"They must be turr'ble afraid o' you daown taown?" + +"They've sent me here to get rid o' me. I guess they spend their +time talkin' over my campaigns." + +"I wanter know!" + +"Yes, sir. Now, all you gentlemen have asked me what I can do. +I'll just show you. See them two fellers lyin' down by the buggy?" + +"Yep; one of 'em owns me. T'other broke me," said Rod. + +"Get 'em out here in the open, an' I'll show you something. Lemme +hide back o' you peoples, so's they won't see what I'm at." + +"Meanin' ter kill 'em?" Rod drawled. There was a shudder of horror +through the others; but the yellow horse never noticed. + +"I'll catch 'em by the back o' the neck, an' pile-drive 'em a piece. +They can suit 'emselves about livin' when I'm through with 'em." + +"'Shouldn't wonder ef they did," said Rod. The yellow horse had +hidden himself very cleverly behind the others as they stood in a +group, and was swaying his head close to the ground with a curious +scythe-like motion, looking side-wise out of his wicked eyes. You +can never mistake a man-eater getting ready to knock a man down. +We had had one to pasture the year before. + +"See that?" said my companion, turning over on the pine-needles. +"Nice for a woman walking 'cross lots, wouldn't it be?" + +"Bring 'em out!" said the yellow horse, hunching his sharp back. +"There's no chance among them tall trees. Bring out the - oh! +Ouch!" + +It was a right-and-left kick from Muldoon. I had no idea that the +old car-horse could lift so quickly. Both blows caught the yellow +horse full and fair in the ribs, and knocked the breath out of him. + +"What's that for?" he said angrily, when he recovered himself; but +I noticed he did not draw any nearer to Muldoon than was necessary. + +Muldoon never answered, but discoursed to himself in the whining +grunt that he uses when he is going down-hill in front of a heavy +load. We call it singing; but I think it's something much worse, +really. The yellow horse blustered and squealed a little, and at +last said that, if it was a horse-fly that had stung Muldoon, he +would accept an apology. + +"You'll get it," said Muldoon, "in de sweet by-and-bye - all de +apology you've any use for. Excuse me interruptin' you, Mr. Rod, +but I'm like Tweezy - I've a Southern drawback in me hind legs." + +"Naow, I want you all here to take notice, an' you'll learn +something," Rod went on. "This yaller-backed skate comes to our +pastur'-" + +"Not havin' paid his board," put in Tedda. + +"Not havin' earned his board, an' talks smooth to us abaout ripplin' +brooks an' wavin' grass, an' his high-toned, pure-souled horsehood, +which don't hender him sheddin' women an' childern, an' fallin' over +the dash onter men. You heard his talk, an' you thought it mighty +fine, some o' you." + +Tuck looked guilty here, but she did not say anything. + +"Bit by bit he goes on ez you have heard." + +"I was talkin' in the abstrac'," said the yellow horse, in an +altered voice. + +"Abstrac' be switched! Ez I've said, it's this yer blamed abstrac' +business that makes the young uns cut up in the Concord; an' abstrac' +or no abstrac', he crep' on an' on till he come to killin' plain an' +straight - killin' them as never done him no harm, jest beca'se they +owned horses." + +"An' knowed how to manage 'em," said Tedda. That makes it worse." + +"Waal, he didn't kill 'em, anyway," said Marcus. "He'd ha' been +half killed ef he had tried." + +"'Makes no differ," Rod answered. "He meant to; an' ef he hadn't + - s'pose we want the Back Pasture turned into a biffin'-ground +on our only day er rest? 'S'pose we want our men walkin' round +with bits er lead pipe an' a twitch, an' their hands full o' stones +to throw at us, same's if we wuz hogs er hooky keows? More'n that, +leavin' out Tedda here - an' I guess it's more her maouth than her +manners stands in her light -there ain't a horse on this farm that +ain't a woman's horse, an' proud of it. An' this yer bogspavined +Kansas sunflower goes up an' daown the length o' the country, traded +off an' traded on, boastin' as he's shed women - an' childern. I +don't say as a woman in a buggy ain't a fool. I don't say as she +ain't the lastin'est kind er fool, ner I don't say a child ain't +worse - spattin' the lines an' standin' up an' hollerin' - but I do +say, 'tain't none of our business to shed 'em daown the road." + +"We don't," said the Deacon. "The baby tried to git some o' my +tail for a sooveneer last fall when I was up to the haouse, an' I +didn't kick. Boney's talk ain't goin' to hurt us any. We ain't +colts." + +"Thet's what you think Bimeby you git into a tight corner, 'Lection +day er Valley Fair, like's not, daown-taown, when you're all het +an' lathery, an' pestered with flies, an' thirsty, an' sick o' bein' +worked in an aout 'tween buggies. Then somethin' whispers inside o' +your winkers, bringin' up all that talk abaout servitood an' +inalienable truck an' sech like, an' jest then a Militia gun goes +off; er your wheels hit, an' - waal, you're only another horse ez +can't be trusted. I've been there time an' again. Boys - fer I've +seen you all bought er broke - on my solemn repitation fer a +three-minute clip, I ain't givin' you no bran-mash o' my own fixin'. +I'm tellin' you my experiences, an' I've had ez heavy a load an' +ez high a check's any horse here. I wuz born with a splint on my +near fore ez big's a walnut, an' the cussed, three-cornered +Hambletonian temper that sours up an' curdles daown ez you git +older. I've favoured my splint; even little Rick he don't know what +it's cost me to keep my end up sometimes; an' I've fit my temper in +stall an' harness, hitched up an' at pasture, till the sweat trickled +off my hooves, an' they thought I wuz off condition, an' drenched me." + +"When my affliction came," said Tweezy, gently, "I was very near to +losin' my manners. Allow me to extend to you my sympathy, suh." + +Rick said nothing, but he looked at Rod curiously. Rick is a +sunny-tempered child who never bears malice, and I don't think he +quite understood. He gets his temper from his mother, as a horse +should. + +"I've been there too, Rod," said Tedda. "Open confession's good +for the soul, an' all Monroe County knows I've had my experriences." + +"But if you will excuse me, suh, that pusson" - Tweezy looked +unspeakable things at the yellow horse - "that pusson who has +insulted our intelligences comes from Kansas. An' what a ho'se +of his position, an' Kansas at that, says cannot, by any stretch of +the halter, concern gentlemen of our position. There's no shadow +of equal'ty, suh, not even for one kick. He's beneath our contempt." + +"Let him talk," said Marcus. "It's always interestin' to know what +another horse thinks. It don't tech us." + +"An' he talks so, too," said Tuck. "I've never heard anythin' so +smart for a long time." + +Again Rod stuck out his jaws sidewise, and went on slowly, as +though he were slugging on a plain bit at the end of a thirty-mile +drive: + + "I want all you here ter understand thet ther ain't no Kansas, ner +no Kentucky, ner yet no Vermont, in our business. There's jest two +kind o' horse in the United States - them ez can an' will do their +work after bein' properly broke an' handled, an' them as won't. +I'm sick an' tired o' this everlastin' tail-switchin' an' wickerin' +abaout one State er another. A horse kin be proud o' his State, an' +swap lies abaout it in stall or when he's hitched to a block, ef he +keers to put in fly-time that way; but he hain't no right to let +that pride o' hisn interfere with his work, ner to make it an +excuse fer claimin' he's different. That's colts' talk, an' don't +you fergit it, Tweezy. An', Marcus, you remember that hem' a +philosopher, an' anxious to save trouble, - fer you ate,- don't +excuse you from jumpin' with all your feet on a slack-jawed, crazy +clay-bank like Boney here. It's leavin' 'em alone that gives 'em +their chance to ruin colts an' kill folks. An', Tuck, waal, you're +a mare anyways - but when a horse comes along an' covers up all his +talk o' killin' with ripplin' brooks, an wavin grass, an' eight +quarts of oats a day free, after killn' his man, don't you be run +away with by his yap. You're too young an' too nervous." + +"I'll - I'll have nervous prostration sure ef there's a fight here," +said Tuck, who saw what was in Rod's eye; "I'm - I'm that sympathetic +I'd run away clear to next caounty." + +"Yep; I know that kind o' sympathy. Jest lasts long enough to start +a fuss, an' then lights aout to make new trouble. I hain't been +ten years in harness fer nuthin'. Naow, we're goin' to keep school +with Boney fer a spell." + +"Say, look a-here, you ain't goin' to hurt me, are you? Remember, +I belong to a man in town," cried the yellow horse, uneasily. +Muldoon kept behind him so that he could not run away. + +"I know it. There must be some pore delooded fool in this State +hez a right to the loose end o' your hitchin'-strap. I'm blame +sorry fer him, but he shall hev his rights when we're through with +you," said Rod. + +If it's all the same, gentlemen, I'd ruther change pasture. Guess +I'll do it now." + +"'Can't always have your 'druthers. 'Guess you won't," said Rod. + +"But look a-here. All of you ain't so blame unfriendly to a +stranger. S'pose we count noses." + +"What in Vermont fer?" said Rod, putting up his eyebrows. The +idea of settling a question by counting noses is the very last +thing that ever enters the head of a well-broken horse. + +"To see how many's on my side. Here's Miss Tuck, anyway; an' +Colonel Tweezy yonder's neutral; an' Judge Marcus, an' I guess the +Reverend [the yellow horse meant the Deacon] might see that I had +my rights. He's the likeliest-lookin' Trotter I've ever set eyes +on. Pshaw. Boys. You ain't goin' to pound me, be you? Why, +we've gone round in pasture, all colts together, this month o' +Sundays, hain't we, as friendly as could be. There ain't a horse +alive I don't care who he is - has a higher opinion o' you, Mr. +Rod, than I have. Let's do it fair an' true an' above the exe. +Let's count noses same's they do in Kansas." Here he dropped his +voice a little and turned to Marcus: "Say, Judge, there's some green +food I know, back o' the brook, no one hain't touched yet. After +this little fracas is fixed up, you an' me'll make up a party an' +'tend to it. + +Marcus did not answer for a long time, then he said: "There's a +pup up to the haouse 'bout eight weeks old. He'll yap till he gits +a lickin', an' when he sees it comin' he lies on his back, an' +yowls. But he don't go through no cirkituous nose-countin' first. +I've seen a noo light sence Rod spoke. You'll better stand up to +what's served. I'm goin' to philosophise all over your carcass." + +I'm goin' to do yer up in brown paper," said Muldoon. "I can fit +you on apologies." + +"Hold on. Ef we all biffed you now, these same men you've been so +dead anxious to kill 'u'd call us off. 'Guess we'll wait till they +go back to the haouse, an' you'll have time to think cool an' quiet," +said Rod. + + "Have you no respec' whatever fer the dignity o' our common +horsehood?" the yellow horse squealed. + +"Nary respec' onless the horse kin do something. America's paved +with the kind er horse you are -jist plain yaller-dog horse - +waitin' ter be whipped inter shape. We call 'em yearlings an' +colts when they're young. When they're aged we pound 'em - in +this pastur'. Horse, sonny, is what you start from. We know all +about horse here, an' he ain't any high-toned, pure souled child +o' nature. Horse, plain horse, same ez you, is chock-full o' +tricks, an' meannesses, an' cussednesses, an' shirkin's, an' +monkey-shines, which he's took over from his sire an' his dam, +an' thickened up with his own special fancy in the way o' goin' +crooked. Thet's horse, an' thet's about his dignity an' the size +of his soul 'fore he's been broke an' rawhided a piece. Now we +ain't goin' to give ornery unswitched horse, that hain't done +nawthin' wuth a quart of oats sence he wuz foaled, pet names that +would be good enough fer Nancy Hanks, or Alix, or Directum, who +hev. Don't you try to back off acrost them rocks. Wait where +you are! Ef I let my Hambletonian temper git the better o' me I'd +frazzle you out finer than rye-straw inside o' three minutes, you +woman-scarin', kid-killin', dash-breakin', unbroke, unshod, +ungaited, pastur'-hoggin', saw-backed, shark-mouthed, +hair-trunk-thrown-in-in-trade son of a bronco an' a sewin'-machine!" + +" I think we'd better get home," I said to my companion, when Rod +had finished; and we climbed into the coupe, Tedda whinnying, as we +bumped over the ledges: "Well, I'm dreffle sorry I can't stay fer +the sociable; but I hope an' trust my friends'll take a ticket fer +me." + +"Bet your natchul!" said Muldoon, cheerfully, and the horses +scattered before us, trotting into the ravine. + +Next morning we sent back to the livery-stable what was left of the +yellow horse. It seemed tired, but anxious to go. + + + + + +THE SHIP THAT FOUND HERSELF + + +It was her first voyage, and though she was but a cargo-steamer +of twenty-five hundred tons, she was the very best of her kind, +the outcome of forty years of experiments and improvements in +framework and machinery; and her designers and owner thought as +much of her as though she had been the Lucania. Any one can make +a floating hotel that will pay expenses, if he puts enough money +into the saloon, and charges for private baths, suites of rooms, +and such like; but in these days of competition and low freights +every square inch of a cargo-boat must be built for cheapness, +great hold-capacity, and a certain steady speed. This boat was, +perhaps, two hundred and forty feet long and thirty-two feet +wide, with arrangements that enabled her to carry cattle on her +main and sheep on her upper deck if she wanted to; but her great +glory was the amount of cargo that she could store away in her +holds. Her owners - they were a very well known Scotch firm - +came round with her from the north, where she had been launched +and christened and fitted, to Liverpool, where she was to take +cargo for New York; and the owner's daughter, Miss Frazier, went +to and fro on the clean decks, admiring the new paint and the +brass work, and the patent winches, and particularly the strong, +straight bow, over which she had cracked a bottle of champagne +when she named the steamer the Dimbula. It was a beautiful +September afternoon, and the boat in all her newness - she was +painted lead-colour with a red funnel - looked very fine indeed. +Her house-flag was flying, and her whistle from time to time +acknowledged the salutes of friendly boats, who saw that she was +new to the High and Narrow Seas and wished to make her welcome. + +"And now," said Miss Frazier, delightedly, to the captain, "she's +a real ship, isn't she? It seems only the other day father gave +the order for her, and now - and now - isn't she a beauty!" The +girl was proud of the firm, and talked as though she were the +controlling partner. + +"Oh, she's no so bad," the skipper replied cautiously. "But I'm +sayin' that it takes more than christenin' to mak' a ship. In +the nature o' things, Miss Frazier, if ye follow me, she's just +irons and rivets and plates put into the form of a ship. She has +to find herself yet." + +"I thought father said she was exceptionally well found." + +"So she is, said the skipper, with a laugh. "But it's this way wi' +ships, Miss Frazier. She's all here, but the parrts of her have +not learned to work together yet. They've had no chance." + +"The engines are working beautifully. I can hear them." + +"Yes, indeed. But there's more than engines to a ship. Every +inch of her, ye'll understand, has to be livened up and made to +work wi' its neighbour - sweetenin' her, we call it, technically." + +"And how will you do it?" the girl asked. + +"We can no more than drive and steer her and so forth; but if we +have rough weather this trip - it's likely - she'll learn the +rest by heart! For a ship, ye'll obsairve, Miss Frazier, is in +no sense a reegid body closed at both ends. She's a highly +complex structure o' various an' conflictin' strains, wi' tissues +that must give an' tak' accordin' to her personal modulus of +elasteecity." Mr. Buchanan, the chief engineer, was coming towards +them. "I'm sayin' to Miss Frazier, here, that our little Dimbula +has to be sweetened yet, and nothin' but a gale will do it. How's +all wi' your engines, Buck?" + +"Well enough - true by plumb an' rule, o' course; but there's no +spontaneeity yet." He turned to the girl. "Take my word, Miss +Frazier, and maybe ye'll comprehend later; even after a pretty +girl's christened a ship it does not follow that there's such a +thing as a ship under the men that work her." + +"I was sayin' the very same, Mr. Buchanan," the skipper interrupted. + +"That's more metaphysical than I can follow," said Miss Frazier, +laughing. + +"Why so? Ye're good Scotch, an' - I knew your mother's father, +he was fra' Dumfries - ye've a vested right in metapheesics, Miss +Frazier, just as ye have in the Dimbula," the engineer said. + +"Eh, well, we must go down to the deep watters, an' earn Miss +Frazier her deevidends. Will you not come to my cabin for tea?" +said the skipper. "We'll be in dock the night, and when you're +goin' back to Glasgie ye can think of us loadin' her down an' +drivin' her forth - all for your sake." + +In the next few days they stowed some four thousand tons dead-weight +into the Dimbula, and took her out from Liverpool. As soon as she +met the lift of the open water, she naturally began to talk. If +you lay your ear to the side of the cabin, the next time you are +in a steamer, you will hear hundreds of little voices in every +direction, thrilling and buzzing, and whispering and popping, and +gurgling and sobbing and squeaking exactly like a telephone in a +thunder-storm. Wooden ships shriek and growl and grunt, but iron +vessels throb and quiver through all their hundreds of ribs and +thousands of rivets. The Dimbula was very strongly built, and +every piece of her had a letter or a number, or both, to describe +it; and every piece had been hammered, or forged, or rolled, or +punched by man, and had lived in the roar and rattle of the shipyard +for months. Therefore, every piece had its own separate voice, in +exact proportion to the amount of trouble spent upon it. Cast-iron, +as a rule, says very little; but mild steel plates and wrought-iron, +and ribs and beams that have been much bent and welded and riveted, +talk continuously. Their conversation, of course, is not half as +wise as our human talk, because they are all, though they do not +know it, bound down one to the other in a black darkness, where +they cannot tell what is happening near them, nor what will overtake +them next. + +As soon as she had cleared the Irish coast, a sullen, grey-headed +old wave of the Atlantic climbed leisurely over her straight bows, +and sat down on the steam-capstan used for hauling up the anchor. +Now the capstan and the engine that drove it had been newly painted +red and green; besides which, nobody likes being ducked. + +"Don't you do that again," the capstan sputtered through the +teeth of his cogs. "Hi! Where's the fellow gone?" + +The wave had slouched overside with a plop and a chuckle; but +"Plenty more where he came from," said a brother-wave, and went +through and over the capstan, who was bolted firmly to an iron +plate on the iron deck-beams below. + +"Can't you keep still up there?" said the deckbeams. "What's the +matter with you? One minute you weigh twice as much as you ought +to, and the next you don't!" + +"It isn't my fault," said the capstan. "There's a green brute +outside that comes and hits me on the head." + +"Tell that to the shipwrights. You've been in position for months +and you've never wriggled like this before. If you aren't careful +you'll strain us." + +"Talking of strain," said a low, rasping, unpleasant voice, are +any of you fellows - you deck-beams, we mean - aware that those +exceedingly ugly knees of yours happen to be riveted into our +structure - ours?" + +"Who might you be?" the deck-beams inquired. + +"Oh, nobody in particular," was the answer. "We're only the port +and starboard upper-deck stringers; and if you persist in heaving +and hiking like this, we shall be reluctantly compelled to take +steps." + +Now the stringers of the ship are long iron girders, so to speak, +that run lengthways from stern to bow. They keep the iron frames +(what are called ribs in a wooden ship) in place, and also help +to hold the ends of the deck-beams, which go from side to side of +the ship. Stringers always consider themselves most important, +because they are so long. + +"You will take steps - will you?" This was a long echoing +rumble. It came from the frames - scores and scores of them, +each one about eighteen inches distant from the next, and each +riveted to the stringers in four places. "We think you will have +a certain amount of trouble in that"; and thousands and thousands +of the little rivets that held everything together whispered: "You +Will! You will! Stop quivering and be quiet. Hold on, brethren! +Hold on! Hot Punches! What's that?" + +Rivets have no teeth, so they cannot chatter with fright; but they +did their best as a fluttering jar swept along the ship from stern +to bow, and she shook like a rat in a terrier's mouth. + +An unusually severe pitch, for the sea was rising, had lifted the +big throbbing screw nearly to the surface, and it was spinning +round in a kind of soda-water - half sea and half air - going +much faster than was proper, because there was no deep water for +it to work in. As it sank again, the engines - and they were +triple expansion, three cylinders in a row - snorted through all +their three pistons. "Was that a joke, you fellow outside? It's +an uncommonly poor one. How are we to do our work if you fly off +the handle that way?" + +"I didn't fly off the handle," said the screw, twirling huskily +at the end of the screw-shaft. "If I had, you'd have been +scrap-iron by this time. The sea dropped away from under me, and +I had nothing to catch on to. That's all." + +That's all, d'you call it?" said the thrust-block, whose business +it is to take the push of the screw; for if a screw had nothing to +hold it back it would crawl right into the engine-room. (It is +the holding back of the screwing action that gives the drive to a +ship.) "I know I do my work deep down and out of sight, but I warn +you I expect justice. All I ask for is bare justice. Why can't +you push steadily and evenly, instead of whizzing like a whirligig, +and making me hot under all my collars?" The thrust-block had six +collars, each faced with brass, and he did not wish to get them +heated. + +All the bearings that supported the fifty feet of screw-shaft as +it ran to the stern whispered: "Justice - give us justice." + +"I can only give you what I can get," the screw answered. "Look +out! It's coming again!" + +He rose with a roar as the Dimbula plunged, and "whack - flack - +whack - whack" went the engines, furiously, for they had little +to check them. + +"I'm the noblest outcome of human ingenuity - Mr. Buchanan says +so," squealed the high-pressure cylinder. "This is simply +ridiculous!" The piston went up savagely, and choked, for half +the steam behind it was mixed with dirty water. "Help! Oiler! +Fitter! Stoker! Help I'm choking," it gasped. "Never in the +history of maritime invention has such a calamity over-taken one +so young and strong. And if I go, who's to drive the ship?" + +"Hush! oh, hush!" whispered the Steam, who, of course, had been +to sea many times before. He used to spend his leisure ashore in +a cloud, or a gutter, or a flower-pot, or a thunder-storm, or +anywhere else where water was needed. "That's only a little +priming, a little carrying-over, as they call it. It'll happen +all night, on and off. I don't say it's nice, but it's the best +we can do under the circumstances." + +"What difference can circumstances make? I'm here to do my work +- on clean, dry steam. Blow circumstances!" the cylinder roared. + +"The circumstances will attend to the blowing. I've worked on the +North Atlantic run a good many times - it's going to be rough +before morning." + +"It isn't distressingly calm now," said the extra strong frames - +they were called web-frames - in the engine-room. "There's an +upward thrust that we don't understand, and there's a twist that +is very bad for our brackets and diamond-plates, and there's a +sort of west-northwesterly pull, that follows the twist, which +seriously annoys us. We mention this because we happened to cost +a good deal of money, and we feel sure that the owner would not +approve of our being treated in this frivolous way." + +I'm afraid the matter is out of owner's hands for the present," +said the Steam, slipping into the condenser. "You're left to +your own devices till the weather betters." + +"I wouldn't mind the weather," said a flat bass voice below; +"it's this confounded cargo that's breaking my heart. I'm the +garboard-strake, and I'm twice as thick as most of the others, +and I ought to know something." + +The garboard-strake is the lowest plate in the bottom of a ship, +and the Dimbula's garboard-strake was nearly three-quarters of an +inch mild steel. + +"The sea pushes me up in a way I should never have expected," the +strake grunted, "and the cargo pushes me down, and, between the +two, I don't know what I'm supposed to do." + +"When in doubt, hold on," rumbled the Steam, making head in the +boilers. + +"Yes; but there's only dark, and cold, and hurry, down here; and +how do I know whether the other plates are doing their duty? +Those bulwark-plates up above, I've heard, ain't more than +five-sixteenths of an inch thick - scandalous, I call it." + +"I agree with you," said a huge web-frame, by the main cargo-hatch. +He was deeper and thicker than all the others, and curved half-way +across the ship in the shape of half an arch, to support the deck +where deck-beams would have been in the way of cargo coming up and +down. "I work entirely unsupported, and I observe that I am the +sole strength of this vessel, so far as my vision extends. The +responsibility, I assure you, is enormous. I believe the +money-value of the cargo is over one hundred and fifty thousand +pounds. Think of that!" + +"And every pound of it is dependent on my personal exertions." +Here spoke a sea-valve that communicated directly with the water +outside, and was seated not very far from the garboard-strake. +"I rejoice to think that I am a Prince-Hyde Valve, with best Para +rubber facings. Five patents cover me - I mention this without +pride - five separate and several patents, each one finer than +the other. At present I am screwed fast. Should I open, you +would immediately be swamped. This is incontrovertible!" + +Patent things always use the longest words they can. It is a +trick that they pick up from their inventors. + +"That's news," said a big centrifugal bilge-pump. "I had an idea +that you were employed to clean decks and things with. At least, +I've used you for that more than once. I forget the precise number, +in thousands, of gallons which I am guaranteed to throw per hour; +but I assure you, my complaining friends, that there is not the +least danger. I alone am capable of clearing any water that may +find its way here. By my Biggest Deliveries, we pitched then!" + +The sea was getting up in workmanlike style. It was a dead westerly +gale, blown from under a ragged opening of green sky, narrowed on +all sides by fat, grey clouds; and the wind bit like pincers as it +fretted the spray into lacework on the flanks of the waves. + +"I tell you what it is," the foremast telephoned down its +wire-stays. "I'm up here, and I can take a dispassionate view +of things. There's an organised conspiracy against us. I'm +sure of it, because every single one of these waves is heading +directly for our bows. The whole sea is concerned in it - and +so's the wind. It's awful!" + +"What's awful?" said a wave, drowning the capstan for the +hundredth time. + +"This organised conspiracy on your part," the capstan gurgled, +taking his cue from the mast. "Organised bubbles and spindrift! +There has been a depression in the Gulf of Mexico. Excuse me!" +He leaped overside; but his friends took up the tale one after +another. + +"Which has advanced - "That wave hove green water over the funnel. + +"As far as Cape Hatteras - " He drenched the bridge. + +"And is now going out to sea - to sea - to sea!" The third went +out in three surges, making a clean sweep of a boat, which turned +bottom up and sank in the darkening troughs alongside, while the +broken falls whipped the davits. + +"That's all there is to it," seethed the white water roaring through +the scuppers. "There's no animus in our proceedings. We're only +meteorological corollaries." + +"Is it going to get any worse?" said the bow-anchor chained down +to the deck, where he could only breathe once in five minutes. + +"Not knowing, can't say. Wind may blow a bit by midnight. +Thanks awfully. Good-bye." + +The wave that spoke so politely had travelled some distance aft, +and found itself all mixed up on the deck amidships, which was a +well-deck sunk between high bulwarks. One of the bulwark-plates, +which was hung on hinges to open outward, had swung out, and +passed the bulk of the water back to the sea again with a clean +smack. + +"Evidently that's what I'm made for," said the plate, closing +again with a sputter of pride. "Oh, no, you don't, my friend!" +The top of a wave was trying to get in from the outside, but as +the plate did not open in that direction, the defeated water +spurted back. + +"Not bad for five-sixteenths of an inch," said the bulwark-plate. +"My work, I see, is laid down for the night"; and it began opening +and shutting, as it was designed to do, with the motion of the ship. + +"We are not what you might call idle," groaned all the frames +together, as the Dimbula climbed a big wave, lay on her side at +the top, and shot into the next hollow, twisting in the descent. +A huge swell pushed up exactly under her middle, and her bow and +stern hung free with nothing to support them. Then one joking +wave caught her up at the bow, and another at the stern, while +the rest of the water slunk away from under her just to see how +she would like it; so she was held up at her two ends only, and +the weight of the cargo and the machinery fell on the groaning +iron keels and bilge-stringers. + +"Ease off! Ease off; there!" roared the garboard-strake. "I want +one-eighth of an inch fair play. D' you hear me, you rivets!" + +"Ease off! Ease off!" cried the bilge-stringers. "Don't hold us +so tight to the frames!" + +"Ease off!" grunted the deck-beams, as the Dimbula rolled +fearfully. "You've cramped our knees into the stringers, and we +can't move. Ease off; you flat-headed little nuisances." + +Then two converging seas hit the bows, one on each side, and fell +away in torrents of streaming thunder. + +"Ease off!" shouted the forward collision-bulkhead. "I want to +crumple up, but I'm stiffened in every direction. Ease off; you +dirty little forge-filings. Let me breathe!" + +All the hundreds of plates that are riveted to the frames, and +make the outside skin of every steamer, echoed the call, for +each plate wanted to shift and creep a little, and each plate, +according to its position, complained against the rivets. + +"We can't help it! We can't help it!" they murmured in reply. +"We're put here to hold you, and we're going to do it; you never +pull us twice in the same direction. If you'd say what you were +going to do next, we'd try to meet your views. + +"As far as I could feel," said the upper-deck planking, and that +was four inches thick, "every single iron near me was pushing or +pulling in opposite directions. Now, what's the sense of that? +My friends, let us all pull together." + +"Pull any way you please," roared the funnel, "so long as you +don't try your experiments on me. I need fourteen wire-ropes, +all pulling in different directions, to hold me steady. Isn't +that so?" + +We believe you, my boy!" whistled the funnel-stays through their +clinched teeth, as they twanged in the wind from the top of the +funnel to the deck. + +"Nonsense! We must all pull together," the decks repeated. "Pull +lengthways." + +"Very good," said the stringers; "then stop pushing sideways when +you get wet. Be content to run gracefully fore and aft, and curve +in at the ends as we do." + +"No - no curves at the end. A very slight workmanlike curve from +side to side, with a good grip at each knee, and little pieces +welded on," said the deck-beams. + +"Fiddle!" cried the iron pillars of the deep, dark hold. "Who +ever heard of curves? Stand up straight; be a perfectly round +column, and carry tons of good solid weight - like that! There!" +A big sea smashed on the deck above, and the pillars stiffened +themselves to the load. + +"Straight up and down is not bad," said the frames, who ran that +way in the sides of the ship, "but you must also expand yourselves +sideways. Expansion is the law of life, children. Open out! open + out!" + +"Come back!" said the deck-beams, savagely, as the upward heave +of the sea made the frames try to open. "Come back to your bearings, +you slack-jawed irons!" + +"Rigidity! Rigidity! Rigidity!" thumped the engines. "Absolute, +unvarying rigidity - rigidity!" + +"You see!" whined the rivets, in chorus. "No two of you will ever +pull alike, and - and you blame it all on us. We only know how to +go through a plate and bite down on both sides so that it can't, +and mustn't, and sha'n't move." + +"I've got one fraction of an inch play, at any rate," said the +garboard-strake, triumphantly. So he had, and all the bottom of +the ship felt the easier for it. + +"Then we're no good," sobbed the bottom rivets. "We were ordered +- we were ordered - never to give; and we've given, and the sea +will come in, and we'll all go to the bottom together! First +we're blamed for everything unpleasant, and now we haven't the +consolation of having done our work." + +"Don't say I told you," whispered the Steam, consolingly; "but, +between you and me and the last cloud I came from, it was bound +to happen sooner or later. You had to give a fraction, and you've +given without knowing it. Now, hold on, as before." + +"What's the use?" a few hundred rivets chattered. "We've given - +we've given; and the sooner we confess that we can't keep the ship +together, and go off our little heads, the easier it will be. No +rivet forged can stand this strain." + +"No one rivet was ever meant to. Share it among you," the Steam +answered. + +"The others can have my share. I'm going to pull out," said a rivet +in one of the forward plates. + +"If you go, others will follow," hissed the Steam. "There's +nothing so contagious in a boat as rivets going. Why, I knew a +little chap like you - he was an eighth of an inch fatter, though + - on a steamer - to be sure, she was only twelve hundred tons, +now I come to think of it in exactly the same place as you are. +He pulled out in a bit of a bobble of a sea, not half as bad as +this, and he started all his friends on the same butt-strap, and +the plates opened like a furnace door, and I had to climb into +the nearest fog-bank, while the boat went down." + +"Now that's peculiarly disgraceful," said the rivet. "Fatter than +me, was he, and in a steamer not half our tonnage? Reedy little +peg! I blush for the family, sir." He settled himself more firmly +than ever in his place, and the Steam chuckled. + +"You see," he went on, quite gravely, " a rivet, and especially a +rivet in your position, is really the one indispensable part of +the ship." + +The Steam did not say that be had whispered the very same thing +to every single piece of iron aboard. There is no sense in telling +too much. + +And all that while the little Dimbula pitched and chopped, and +swung and slewed, and lay down as though she were going to die, +and got up as though she had been stung, and threw her nose +round and round in circles half a dozen times as she dipped, for +the gale was at its worst. It was inky black, in spite of the +tearing white froth on the waves, and, to top everything, the +rain began to fall in sheets, so that you could not see your hand +before your face. This did not make much difference to the +ironwork below, but it troubled the foremast a good deal. + +"Now it's all finished," he said dismally. "The conspiracy is too +strong for us. There is nothing left but to - " + +"Hurraar! Brrrraaah! Brrrrrrp!" roared the Steam through the +fog-horn, till the decks quivered. "Don't be frightened, below. +It's only me, just throwing out a few words, in case any one +happens to be rolling round to-night." + +"You don't mean to say there's any one except us on the sea in +such weather?" said the funnel, in a husky snuffle. + +"Scores of 'em," said the Steam, clearing its throat. "Rrrrrraaa! +Brraaaaa! Prrrrp! It's a trifle windy up here; and, Great +Boilers! how it rains!" + +"We're drowning," said the scuppers. They had been doing nothing +else all night, but this steady thrash of rain above them seemed +to be the end of the world. + +"That's all right. We'll be easier in an hour or two. First the +wind and then the rain. Soon you may make sail again! Grrraaaaaah! +Drrrraaaa! Drrrp! I have a notion that the sea is going down +already. If it does you'll learn something about rolling. We've +only pitched till now. By the way, aren't you chaps in the hold a +little easier than you were?" + +There was just as much groaning and straining as ever, but it was +not so loud or squeaky in tone; and when the ship quivered she +did not jar stiffly, like a poker hit on the floor, but gave +with a supple little waggle, like a perfectly balanced golf-club. + +"We have made a most amazing discovery," said the stringers, one +after another. "A discovery that entirely changes the situation. +We have found, for the first time in the history of ship-building, +that the inward pull of the deck-beams and the outward thrust of +the frames locks us, as it were, more closely in our places, and +enables us to endure a strain which is entirely without parallel +in the records of marine architecture." + +The Steam turned a laugh quickly into a roar up the fog-horn. +"What massive intellects you great stringers have," he said +softly, when he had finished. + +"We also," began the deck-beams, "are discoverers and geniuses. +We are of opinion that the support of the hold-pillars materially +helps us. We find that we lock up on them when we are subjected +to a heavy and singular weight of sea above." + +Here the Dimbula shot down a hollow, lying almost on her side; +righting at the bottom with a wrench and a spasm. + +"In these cases - are you aware of this, Steam? - the plating at +the bows, and particularly at the stern - we would also mention +the floors beneath us - help us to resist any tendency to spring. +"The frames spoke, in the solemn awed voice which people use when +they have just come across something entirely new for the very +first time. + +"I'm only a poor puffy little flutterer," said the Steam, "but I +have to stand a good deal of pressure in my business. It's all +tremendously interesting. Tell us some more. You fellows are so +strong." + +"Watch us and you'll see," said the bow-plates, proudly. "Ready, +behind there! Here's the father and mother of waves coming! Sit +tight, rivets all!" A great sluicing comber thundered by, but +through the scuffle and confusion the Steam could hear the low, +quick cries of the ironwork as the various strains took them - +cries like these: "Easy, now - easy! Now push for all your +strength! Hold out! Give a fraction! Hold up! Pull in! Shove +crossways! Mind the strain at the ends! Grip, now! Bite tight! +Let the water get away from under - and there she goes!" + +The wave raced off into the darkness, shouting, "Not bad, that, +if it's your first run!" and the drenched and ducked ship throbbed +to the beat of the engines inside her. All three cylinders were +white with the salt spray that had come down through the engine-room +hatch; there was white fur on the canvas-bound steam-pipes, and +even the bright-work deep below was speckled and soiled; but the +cylinders had learned to make the most of steam that was half water, +and were pounding along cheerfully. + +"How's the noblest outcome of human ingenuity hitting it?" said +the Steam, as he whirled through the engine-room. + +"Nothing for nothing in this world of woe," the cylinders answered, +as though they had been working for centuries, "and precious little +for seventy-five pounds head. We've made two knots this last hour +and a quarter! Rather humiliating for eight hundred horse-power, +isn't it?" + +"Well, it's better than drifting astern, at any rate. You seem +rather less - how shall I put it - stiff in the back than you +were." + +"If you'd been hammered as we've been this night, you wouldn't be +stiff - iff - iff; either. Theoreti - retti - retti - cally, of +course, rigidity is the thing. Purrr - purr - practically, there +has to be a little give and take. We found that out by working on +our sides for five minutes at a stretch - chch - chh. How's the +weather?" + +"Sea's going down fast," said the Steam. + +"Good business," said the high-pressure cylinder. "Whack her up, +boys. They've given us five pounds more steam"; and he began +humming the first bars of "Said the young Obadiah to the old +Obadiah," which, as you may have noticed, is a pet tune among +engines not built for high speed. Racing-liners with twin-screws +sing "The Turkish Patrol" and the overture to the "Bronze Horse," +and "Madame Angot," till something goes wrong, and then they +render Gounod's "Funeral March of a Marionette," with variations. + +"You'll learn a song of your own some fine day," said the Steam, +as he flew up the fog-horn for one last bellow. + +Next day the sky cleared and the sea dropped a little, and the +Dimbula began to roll from side to side till every inch of iron +in her was sick and giddy. But luckily they did not all feel ill +at the same time: otherwise she would have opened out like a wet +paper box. + +The Steam whistled warnings as he went about his business: it is +in this short, quick roll and tumble that follows a heavy sea that +most of the accidents happen, for then everything thinks that the +worst is over and goes off guard. So he orated and chattered till +the beams and frames and floors and stringers and things had +learned how to lock down and lock up on one another, and endure +this new kind of strain. + +They found ample time to practise, for they were sixteen days at +sea, and it was foul weather till within a hundred miles of New +York. The Dimbula picked up her pilot, and came in covered with +salt and red rust. Her funnel was dirty-grey from top to bottom; +two boats had been carried away; three copper ventilators looked +like hats after a fight with the police; the bridge had a dimple +in the middle of it; the house that covered the steam steering-gear +was split as with hatchets; there was a bill for small repairs in +the engine-room almost as long as the screw-shaft; the forward +cargo-hatch fell into bucket-staves when they raised the iron +cross-bars; and the steam-capstan had been badly wrenched on its +bed. Altogether, as the skipper said, it was "a pretty general +average." + +"But she's soupled," he said to Mr. Buchanan. "For all her +dead-weight she rode like a yacht. Ye mind that last blow off +the Banks - I am proud of her, Buck." + +"It's vera good," said the chief engineer, looking along the +dishevelled decks. "Now, a man judgin' superfeecially would say +we were a wreck, but we know otherwise - by experience." + +Naturally everything in the Dimbula fairly stiffened with pride, +and the foremast and the forward collision-bulkhead, who are +pushing creatures, begged the Steam to warn the Port of New York +of their arrival. "Tell those big boats all about us," they said. +"They seem to take us quite as a matter of course." + +It was a glorious, clear, dead calm morning, and in single file, +with less than half a mile between each, their bands playing and +their tugboats shouting and waving handkerchiefs, were the Majestic, +the Paris, the Touraine, the Servia, the Kaiser Wilhelm II, and +the Werkendam, all statelily going out to sea. As the Dimbula +shifted her helm to give the great boats clear way, the Steam +(who knows far too much to mind making an exhibition of himself +now and then) shouted: + +Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! Princes, Dukes, and Barons of the High Seas! +Know ye by these presents, we are the Dimbula, fifteen days nine +hours from Liverpool, having crossed the Atlantic with four thousand +ton of cargo for the first time in our career! We have not +foundered. We are here. 'Eer! 'Eer! We are not disabled. But +we have had a time wholly unparalleled in the annals of ship-building! +Our decks were swept! We pitched; we rolled! We thought we were +going to die! Hi! Hi! But we didn't. We wish to give notice that +we have come to New York all the way across the Atlantic, through the +worst weather in the world; and we are the Dimbula! We are - arr +- ha - ha - ha-r-r-r!" + +The beautiful line of boats swept by as steadily as the procession +of the Seasons. The Dimbula heard the Majestic say, "Hmph!" and +the Paris grunted, "How!" and the Touraine said, "Oui!" with a +little coquettish flicker of steam; and the Servia said, "Haw!" and +the Kaiser and the Werkendam said, "Hoch!" Dutch fashion - and that +was absolutely all. + +"I did my best," said the Steam, gravely, "but I don't think they +were much impressed with us, somehow. Do you?" + +"It's simply disgusting," said the bow-plates. "They might have +seen what we've been through. There isn't a ship on the sea that +has suffered as we have - is there, now?" + +"Well, I wouldn't go so far as that," said the Steam, "because +I've worked on some of those boats, and sent them through +weather quite as bad as the fortnight that we've had, in six +days; and some of them are a little over ten thousand tons, I +believe. Now I've seen the Majestic, for instance, ducked from +her bows to her funnel; and I've helped the Arizona, I think she +was, to back off an iceberg she met with one dark night; and I +had to run out of the Paris's engine-room, one day, because +there was thirty foot of water in it. Of course, I don't deny - " +The Steam shut off suddenly, as a tugboat, loaded with a political +club and a brass band, that had been to see a New York Senator off +to Europe, crossed their bows, going to Hoboken. There was a +long silence that reached, without a break, from the cut-water to +the propeller-blades of the Dimbula. + +Then a new, big voice said slowly and thickly, as though the +owner had just waked up: "It's my conviction that I have made a +fool of myself." + +The Steam knew what had happened at once; for when a ship finds +herself all the talking of the separate pieces ceases and melts +into one voice, which is the soul of the ship. + +"Who are you?" he said, with a laugh. +"I am the Dimbula, of course. I've never been anything else +except that - and a fool!" + +The tugboat, which was doing its very best to be run down, got +away just in time; its band playing clashily and brassily a +popular but impolite air: + + In the days of old Rameses - are you on? + In the days of old Rameses - are you on? + In the days of old Rameses, + That story had paresis, + Are you on - are you on - are you on? + +"Well, I'm glad you've found yourself," said the Steam. "To tell +the truth, I was a little tired of talking to all those ribs and +stringers. Here's Quarantine. After that we'll go to our wharf +and clean up a little, and - next month we'll do it all over again." + + + +THE TOMB OF HIS ANCESTORS + + + +Some people will tell you that if there were but a single loaf of +bread in all India it would be divided equally between the Plowdens, +the Trevors, the Beadons, and the Rivett-Carnacs. That is only one +way of saying that certain families serve India generation after +generation, as dolphins follow in line across the open sea. + +Let us take a small and obscure case. There has been at least one +representative of the Devonshire Chinns in or near Central India +since the days of Lieutenant-Fireworker Humphrey Chinn, of the +Bombay European Regiment, who assisted at the capture of +Seringapatam in 1799. Alfred Ellis Chinn, Humphrey's younger +brother, commanded a regiment of Bombay grenadiers from 1804 to +1813, when he saw some mixed fighting; and in 1834 John Chinn of +the same family - we will call him John Chinn the First - came to +light as a level-headed administrator in time of trouble at a +place called Mundesur. He died young, but left his mark on the +new country, and the Honourable the Board of Directors of the +Honourable the East India Company embodied his virtues in a +stately resolution, and paid for the expenses of his tomb among +the Satpura hills. + +He was succeeded by his son, Lionel Chinn, who left the little +old Devonshire home just in time to be severely wounded in the +Mutiny. He spent his working life within a hundred and fifty miles +of John Chinn's grave, and rose to the command of a regiment of +small, wild hill-men, most of whom had known his father. His son +John was born in the small thatched-roofed, mud-walled cantonment, +which is even to-day eighty miles from the nearest railway, in the +heart of a scrubby, tigerish country. Colonel Lionel Chinn served +thirty years and retired. In the Canal his steamer passed the +outward-bound troop-ship, carrying his son eastward to the family +duty. + +The Chinns are luckier than most folk, because they know exactly +what they must do. A clever Chinn passes for the Bombay Civil +Service, and gets away to Central India, where everybody is glad +to see him. A dull Chinn enters the Police Department or the Woods +and Forest, and sooner or later he, too, appears in Central India, +and that is what gave rise to the saying, "Central India is +inhabited by Bhils, Mairs, and Chinns, all very much alike." The +breed is small-boned, dark, and silent, and the stupidest of them +are good shots. John Chinn the Second was rather clever, but as +the eldest son he entered the army, according to Chinn tradition. +His duty was to abide in his father's regiment for the term of his +natural life, though the corps was one which most men would have +paid heavily to avoid. They were irregulars, small, dark, and +blackish, clothed in rifle-green with black-leather trimmings; +and friends called them the "Wuddars," which means a race of +low-caste people who dig up rats to eat. But the Wuddars did not +resent it. They were the only Wuddars, and their points of pride +were these: + +Firstly, they had fewer English officers than any native regiment. +Secondly, their subalterns were not mounted on parade, as is the +general rule, but walked at the head of their men. A man who can +hold his own with the Wuddars at their quickstep must be sound in +wind and limb. Thirdly, they were the most pukka shikarries +(out-and-out hunters) in all India. Fourthly-up to one-hundredthly + - they were the Wuddars - Chinn's Irregular Bhil Levies of the +old days, but now, henceforward and for ever, the Wuddars. + +No Englishman entered their mess except for love or through family +usage. The officers talked to their soldiers in a tongue not two +hundred white folk in India understood; and the men were their +children, all drawn from the Bhils, who are, perhaps, the strangest +of the many strange races in India. They were, and at heart are, +wild men, furtive, shy, full of untold superstitions. The races +whom we call natives of the country found the Bhil in possession of +the land when they first broke into that part of the world thousands +of years ago. The books call them Pre-Aryan, Aboriginal, Dravidian, +and so forth; and, in other words, that is what the Bhils call +themselves. When a Rajput chief whose bards can sing his pedigree +backwards for twelve hundred years is set on the throne, his +investiture is not complete till he has been marked on the forehead +with blood from the veins of a Bhil. The Rajputs say the ceremony +has no meaning, but the Bhil knows that it is the last, last shadow +of his old rights as the long-ago owner of the soil. + +Centuries of oppression and massacre made the Bhil a cruel and +half-crazy thief and cattle-stealer, and when the English came he +seemed to be almost as open to civilisation as the tigers of his +own jungles. But John Chinn the First, father of Lionel, +grandfather of our John, went into his country, lived with him, +learned his language, shot the deer that stole his poor crops, and +won his confidence, so that some Bhils learned to plough and sow, +while others were coaxed into the Company's service to police +their friends. + +When they understood that standing in line did not mean instant +execution, they accepted soldiering as a cumbrous but amusing kind +of sport, and were zealous to keep the wild Bhils under control. +That was the thin edge of the wedge. John Chinn the First gave +them written promises that, if they were good from a certain date, +the Government would overlook previous offences; and since John +Chinn was never known to break his word - he promised once to hang +a Bhil locally esteemed invulnerable, and hanged him in front of +his tribe for seven proved murders - the Bhils settled down as +steadily as they knew how. It was slow, unseen work, of the sort +that is being done all over India to-day; and though John Chinn's +only reward came, as I have said, in the shape of a grave at +Government expense, the little people of the hills never forgot him. + +Colonel Lionel Chinn knew and loved them, too, and they were very +fairly civilised, for Bhils, before his service ended. Many of +them could hardly be distinguished from low-caste Hindoo farmers; +but in the south, where John Chinn the First was buried, the +wildest still clung to the Satpura ranges, cherishing a legend +that some day Jan Chinn, as they called him, would return to his +own. In the mean time they mistrusted the white man and his ways. +The least excitement would stampede them, plundering, at random, +and now and then killing; but if they were handled discreetly they +grieved like children, and promised never to do it again. + +The Bhils of the regiment - the uniformed men - were virtuous in +many ways, but they needed humouring. They felt bored and +homesick unless taken after tiger as beaters; and their +cold-blooded daring - all Wuddars shoot tigers on foot: it is +their caste-mark - made even the officers wonder. They would +follow up a wounded tiger as unconcernedly as though it were a +sparrow with a broken wing; and this through a country full of +caves and rifts and pits, where a wild beast could hold a dozen +men at his mercy. Now and then some little man was brought to +barracks with his head smashed in or his ribs torn away; but his +companions never learned caution; they contented themselves with +settling the tiger. + +Young John Chinn was decanted at the verandah of the Wuddars' +lonely mess-house from the back seat of a two-wheeled cart, his +gun-cases cascading all round him. The slender little, hookey-nosed +boy looked forlorn as a strayed goat when he slapped the white dust +off his knees, and the cart jolted down the glaring road. But in +his heart he was contented. After all, this was the place where +he had been born, and things were not much changed since he had +been sent to England, a child, fifteen years ago. + +There were a few new buildings, but the air and the smell and the +sunshine were the same; and the little green men who crossed the +parade-ground looked very familiar. Three weeks ago John Chinn +would have said he did not remember a word of the Bhil tongue, but +at the mess door he found his lips moving in sentences that he did +not understand - bits of old nursery rhymes, and tail-ends of such +orders as his father used to give the men. + +The Colonel watched him come up the steps, and laughed. + +"Look!" he said to the Major. "No need to ask the young un's +breed. He's a pukka Chinn. 'Might be his father in the Fifties +over again." + +"'Hope he'll shoot as straight," said the Major. "He's brought +enough ironmongery with him." + +"'Wouldn't be a Chinn if he didn't. Watch him blowin' his nose. +'Regular Chinn beak. 'Flourishes his handkerchief like his father. +It's the second edition - line for line." + +"'Fairy tale, by Jove!" said the Major, peering through the slats +of the jalousies. "If he's the lawful heir, he'll .... Now +old Chinn could no more pass that chick without fiddling with it +than ...." + +"His son!" said the Colonel, jumping up. + +"Well, I be blowed!" said the Major. The boy's eye had been +caught by a split-reed screen that hung on a slew between the +veranda pillars, and, mechanically, he had tweaked the edge to +set it level. Old Chinn had sworn three times a day at that +screen for many years; he could never get it to his satisfaction. + +His son entered the anteroom in the middle of a fivefold silence. +They made him welcome for his father's sake and, as they took stock +of him, for his own. He was ridiculously like the portrait of the +Colonel on the wall, and when he had washed a little of the dust +from his throat he went to his quarters with the old man's short, +noiseless jungle-step. + +"So much for heredity," said the Major. "That comes of four +generations among the Bhils." + +"And the men know it," said a Wing officer. "They've been waiting +for this youth with their tongues hanging out. I am persuaded +that, unless he absolutely beats 'em over the head, they'll lie +down by companies and worship him." + +"Nothin' like havin' a father before you," said the Major. "I'm +a parvenu with my chaps. I've only been twenty years in the +regiment, and my revered parent he was a simple squire. There's +no getting at the bottom of a Bhil's mind. Now, why is the +superior bearer that young Chinn brought with him fleeing across +country with his bundle?" He stepped into the verandah, and +shouted after the man - a typical new-joined subaltern's servant +who speaks English and cheats in proportion. + +What is it?" he called. + +Plenty bad man here. I going, sar," was the reply. "'Have taken +Sahib's keys, and say will shoot." + +"Doocid lucid - doocid convincin'. How those up-country thieves +can leg it! He has been badly frightened by some one." The Major +strolled to his quarters to dress for mess. + +Young Chinn, walking like a man in a dream, had fetched a compass +round the entire cantonment before going to his own tiny cottage. +The captain's quarters, in which he had been born, delayed him for +a little; then he looked at the well on the parade-ground, where +he had sat of evenings with his nurse, and at the ten-by-fourteen +church, where the officers went to service if a chaplain of any +official creed happened to come along. It seemed very small as +compared with the gigantic buildings he used to stare up at, but +it was the same place. + +>From time to time he passed a knot of silent soldiers, who saluted. +They might have been the very men who had carried him on their +backs when he was in his first knickerbockers. A faint light +burned in his room, and, as he entered, hands clasped his feet, +and a voice murmured from the floor. + +"Who is it?" said young Chinn, not knowing he spoke in the Bhil +tongue. + +"I bore you in my arms, Sahib, when I was a strong man and you +were a small one - crying, crying, crying! I am your servant, +as I was your father's before you. We are all your servants." + +Young Chinn could not trust himself to reply, and the voice went +on: + +"I have taken your keys from that fat foreigner, and sent him +away; and the studs are in the shirt for mess. Who should know, +if I do not know? And so the baby has become a man, and forgets +his nurse; but my nephew shall make a good servant, or I will +beat him twice a day." + +Then there rose up, with a rattle, as straight as a Bhil arrow, a +little white-haired wizened ape of a man, with medals and orders +on his tunic, stammering, saluting, and trembling. Behind him a +young and wiry Bhil, in uniform, was taking the trees out of +Chinn's mess-boots. + +Chinn's eyes were full of tears. The old man held out his keys. + +"Foreigners are bad people. He will never come back again. We +are all servants of your father's son. Has the Sahib forgotten +who took him to see the trapped tiger in the village across the +river, when his mother was so frightened and he was so brave?" + +The scene came back to Chinn in great magic-lantern flashes. +"Bukta!" he cried; and all in a breath: "You promised nothing +should hurt me. Is it Bukta?" + +The man was at his feet a second time. "He has not forgotten. He +remembers his own people as his father remembered. Now can I die. +But first I will live and show the Sahib how to kill tigers. That +that yonder is my nephew. If he is not a good servant, beat him +and send him to me, and I will surely kill him, for now the Sahib +is with his own people. Ai, Jan haba - Jan haba! My Jan haba! +I will stay here and see that this does his work well. Take off +his boots, fool. Sit down upon the bed, Sahib, and let me look. +It is Jan haba." + +He pushed forward the hilt of his sword as a sign of service, +which is an honour paid only to viceroys, governors, generals, +or to little children whom one loves dearly. Chinn touched the +hilt mechanically with three fingers, muttering he knew not what. +It happened to be the old answer of his childhood, when Bukta in +jest called him the little General Sahib. + +The Major's quarters were opposite Chinn's, and when he heard his +servant gasp with surprise he looked across the room. Then the +Major sat on the bed and whistled; for the spectacle of the +senior native commissioned officer of the regiment, an "unmixed" +Bhil, a Companion of the Order of British India, with thirty-five +years' spotless service in the army, and a rank among his own +people superior to that of many Bengal princelings, valeting the +last-joined subaltern, was a little too much for his nerves. + +The throaty bugles blew the Mess-call that has a long legend +behind it. First a few piercing notes like the shrieks of +beaters in a far-away cover, and next, large, full, and smooth, +the refrain of the wild song: "And oh, and oh, the green pulse +of Mundore - Mundore!" + +"All little children were in bed when the Sahib heard that call +last," said Bukta, passing Chinn a clean handkerchief. The call +brought back memories of his cot under the mosquito-netting, his +mother's kiss, and the sound of footsteps growing fainter as he +dropped asleep among his men. So he hooked the dark collar of +his new mess-jacket, and went to dinner like a prince who has +newly inherited his father's crown. + +Old Bukta swaggered forth curling his whiskers. He knew his own +value, and no money and no rank within the gift of the Government +would have induced him to put studs in young officers' shirts, or +to hand them clean ties. Yet, when he took off his uniform that +night, and squatted among his fellows for a quiet smoke, he told +them what he had done, and they said that he was entirely right. +Thereat Bukta propounded a theory which to a white mind would +have seemed raving insanity; but the whispering, level-headed +little men of war considered it from every point of view, and +thought that there might be a great deal in it. + +At mess under the oil-lamps the talk turned as usual to the +unfailing subject of shikar - big game-shooting of every kind +and under all sorts of conditions. Young Chinn opened his eyes +when he understood that each one of his companions had shot +several tigers in the Wuddar style - on foot, that is - making no +more of the business than if the brute had been a dog. + +"In nine cases out of ten," said the Major, "a tiger is almost as +dangerous as a porcupine. But the tenth time you come home feet +first." + +That set all talking, and long before midnight Chinn's brain was +in a whirl with stories of tigers - man-eaters and cattle-killers +each pursuing his own business as methodically as clerks in an +office; new tigers that had lately come into such-and-such a +district; and old, friendly beasts of great cunning, known by +nicknames in the mess-such as "Puggy," who was lazy, with huge +paws, and "Mrs. Malaprop," who turned up when you never expected +her, and made female noises. Then they spoke of Bhil superstitions, +a wide and picturesque field, till young Chinn hinted that they +must be pulling his leg. + +"'Deed, we aren't," said a man on his left. "We know all about +you. You're a Chinn and all that, and you've a sort of vested +right here; but if you don't believe what we're telling you, what +will you do when old Bukta begins his stories? He knows about +ghost-tigers, and tigers that go to a hell of their own; and +tigers that walk on their hind feet; and your grandpapa's +riding-tiger, as well. 'Odd he hasn't spoken of that yet." + +"You know you've an ancestor buried down Satpura way, don't you?" +said the Major, as Chinn smiled irresolutely. + +"Of course I do," said Chinn, who had the chronicle of the Book +of Chinn by heart. It lies in a worn old ledger on the Chinese +lacquer table behind the piano in the Devonshire home, and the +children are allowed to look at it on Sundays. + +"Well, I wasn't sure. Your revered ancestor, my boy, according +to the Bhils, has a tiger of his own - a saddle-tiger that he +rides round the country whenever he feels inclined. I don't call +it decent in an ex-Collector's ghost; but that is what the Southern +Bhils believe. Even our men, who might be called moderately cool, +don't care to beat that country if they hear that Jan Chinn is +running about on his tiger. It is supposed to be a clouded animal + - not stripy, but blotchy, like a tortoise-shell tom-cat. No +end of a brute, it is, and a sure sign of war or pestilence or + - or something. There's a nice family legend for you." + +"What's the origin of it, d' you suppose?" said Chinn. + +"Ask the Satpura Bhils. Old Jan Chinn was a mighty hunter before +the Lord. Perhaps it was the tiger's revenge, or perhaps he's +huntin' 'em still. You must go to his tomb one of these days and +inquire. Bukta will probably attend to that. He was asking me +before you came whether by any ill-luck you had already bagged +your tiger. If not, he is going to enter you under his own wing. +Of course, for you of all men it's imperative. You'll have a +first-class time with Bukta." + +The Major was not wrong. Bukta kept an anxious eye on young Chinn +at drill, and it was noticeable that the first time the new officer +lifted up his voice in an order the whole line quivered. Even the +Colonel was taken aback, for it might have been Lionel Chinn +returned from Devonshire with a new lease of life. Bukta had +continued to develop his peculiar theory among his intimates, and +it was accepted as a matter of faith in the lines, since every +word and gesture on young Chinn's part so confirmed it. + +The old man arranged early that his darling should wipe out the +reproach of not having shot a tiger; but he was not content to +take the first or any beast that happened to arrive. In his own +villages he dispensed the high, low, and middle justice, and when +his people - naked and fluttered - came to him with word of a +beast marked down, he bade them send spies to the kills and the +watering-places, that he might be sure the quarry was such an one +as suited the dignity of such a man. + +Three or four times the reckless trackers returned, most truthfully +saying that the beast was mangy, undersized - a tigress worn with +nursing, or a broken-toothed old male - and Bukta would curb young +Chinn's impatience. + +At last, a noble animal was marked down - a ten-foot cattle-killer +with a huge roll of loose skin along the belly, glossy-hided, +full-frilled about the neck, whiskered, frisky, and young. He +had slain a man in pure sport, they said. + +"Let him be fed," quoth Bukta, and the villagers dutifully drove +out a cow to amuse him, that he might lie up near by. + +Princes and potentates have taken ship to India and spent great +moneys for the mere glimpse of beasts one-half as fine as this +of Bukta's. + +"It is not good," said he to the Colonel, when he asked for +shooting-leave, "that my Colonel's son who may be - that my +Colonel's son should lose his maidenhead on any small jungle +beast. That may come after. I have waited long for this which +is a tiger. He has come in from the Mair country. In seven days +we will return with the skin." + +The mess gnashed their teeth enviously. Bukta, had he chosen, +might have invited them all. But he went out alone with Chinn, +two days in a shooting-cart and a day on foot, till they came to +a rocky, glary valley with a pool of good water in it. It was a +parching day, and the boy very naturally stripped and went in for +a bathe, leaving Bukta by the clothes. A white skin shows far +against brown jungle, and what Bukta beheld on Chinn's back and +right shoulder dragged him forward step by step with staring +eyeballs. + +"I'd forgotten it isn't decent to strip before a man of his +position," said Chinn, flouncing in the water. "How the little +devil stares! What is it, Bukta?" "The Mark!" was the whispered +answer. + +"It is nothing. You know how it is with my people!" Chinn was +annoyed. The dull-red birth-mark on his shoulder, something like +a conventionalised Tartar cloud, had slipped his memory or he +would not have bathed. It occurred, so they said at home, in +alternate generations, appearing, curiously enough, eight or nine +years after birth, and, save that it was part of the Chinn +inheritance, would not be considered pretty. He hurried ashore, +dressed again, and went on till they met two or three Bhils, who +promptly fell on their faces. "My people," grunted Bukta, not +condescending to notice them. "And so your people, Sahib. When I +was a young man we were fewer, but not so weak. Now we are many, +but poor stock. As may be remembered. How will you shoot him, +Sahib? From a tree; from a shelter which my people shall build; +by day or by night?" + +"On foot and in the daytime," said young Chinn. + +"That was your custom, as I have heard," said Bukta to himself "I +will get news of him. Then you and I will go to him. I will +carry one gun. You have yours. There is no need of more. What +tiger shall stand against thee?" + +He was marked down by a little water-hole at the head of a ravine, +full-gorged and half asleep in the May sunlight. He was walked up +like a partridge, and he turned to do battle for his life. Bukta +made no motion to raise his rifle, but kept his eyes on Chinn, who +met the shattering roar of the charge with a single shot - it +seemed to him hours as he sighted - which tore through the throat, +smashing the backbone below the neck and between the shoulders. +The brute couched, choked, and fell, and before Chinn knew well +what had happened Bukta bade him stay still while he paced the +distance between his feet and the ringing jaws. + +"Fifteen," said Bukta. "Short paces. No need for a second shot, +Sahib. He bleeds cleanly where he lies, and we need not spoil +the skin. I said there would be no need of these, but they came +- in case." + +Suddenly the sides of the ravine were crowned with the heads of +Bukta's people - a force that could have blown the ribs out of +the beast had Chinn's shot failed; but their guns were hidden, +and they appeared as interested beaters, some five or six waiting +the word to skin. Bukta watched the life fade from the wild eyes, +lifted one hand, and turned on his heel. + +"No need to show that we care," said he. "Now, after this, we can +kill what we choose. Put out your hand, Sahib." + +Chinn obeyed. It was entirely steady, and Bukta nodded. "That +also was your custom. My men skin quickly. They will carry the +skin to cantonments. Will the Sahib come to my poor village for +the night and, perhaps, forget that I am his officer?" + +"But those men - the beaters. They have worked hard, and perhaps -" + +"Oh, if they skin clumsily, we will skin them. They are my people. +In the lines I am one thing. Here I am another." + +This was very true. When Bukta doffed uniform and reverted to the +fragmentary dress of his own people, he left his civilisation of +drill in the next world. That night, after a little talk with his +subjects, he devoted to an orgie; and a Bhil orgie is a thing not +to be safely written about. Chinn, flushed with triumph, was in +the thick of it, but the meaning of the mysteries was hidden. +Wild folk came and pressed about his knees with offerings. He +gave his flask to the elders of the village. They grew eloquent, +and wreathed him about with flowers. Gifts and loans, not all +seemly, were thrust upon him, and infernal music rolled and +maddened round red fires, while singers sang songs of the ancient +times, and danced peculiar dances. The aboriginal liquors are +very potent, and Chinn was compelled to taste them often, but, +unless the stuff had been drugged, how came he to fall asleep +suddenly, and to waken late the next day - half a march from the +village? + +"The Sahib was very tired. A little before dawn he went to sleep," +Bukta explained. "My people carried him here, and now it is time +we should go back to cantonments." + +The voice, smooth and deferential, the step, steady and silent, +made it hard to believe that only a few hours before Bukta was +yelling and capering with naked fellow-devils of the scrub. + +"My people were very pleased to see the Sahib. They will never +forget. When next the Sahib goes out recruiting, he will go to +my people, and they will give him as many men as we need." + +Chinn kept his own counsel, except as to the shooting of the +tiger, and Bukta embroidered that tale with a shameless tongue. +The skin was certainly one of the finest ever hung up in the +mess, and the first of many. When Bukta could not accompany his +boy on shooting-trips, he took care to put him in good hands, +and Chinn learned more of the mind and desire of the wild Bhil +in his marches and campings, by talks at twilight or at wayside +pools, than an uninstructed man could have come at in a +lifetime. + +Presently his men in the regiment grew bold to speak of their +relatives - mostly in trouble - and to lay cases of tribal custom +before him. They would say, squatting in his verandah at +twilight, after the easy, confidential style of the Wuddars, +that such-and-such a bachelor had run away with such-and-such a +wife at a far-off village. Now, how many cows would Chinn Sahib +consider a just fine? Or, again, if written order came from the +Government that a Bhil was to repair to a walled city of the +plains to give evidence in a law-court, would it be wise to +disregard that order? On the other hand, if it were obeyed, would +the rash voyager return alive? + +"But what have I to do with these things?" Chinn demanded of Bukta, +impatiently. "I am a soldier. I do not know the law." + +"Hoo! Law is for fools and white men. Give them a large and +loud order, and they will abide by it. Thou art their law." + +"But wherefore?" + +Every trace of expression left Bukta's countenance. The idea might +have smitten him for the first time. "How can I say?" he replied. +"Perhaps it is on account of the name. A Bhil does not love +strange things. Give them orders, Sahib- two, three, four words +at a time such as they can carry away in their heads. That is +enough." + +Chinn gave orders then, valiantly, not realising that a word spoken +in haste before mess became the dread unappealable law of villages +beyond the smoky hills was, in truth, no less than the Law of Jan +Chinn the First, who, so the whispered legend ran, had come back +to earth, to oversee the third generation, in the body and bones +of his grandson. + +There could be no sort of doubt in this matter. All the Bhils +knew that Jan Chinn reincarnated had honoured Bukta's village +with his presence after slaying his first - in this life - tiger; +that he had eaten and drunk with the people, as he was used; and +- Bukta must have drugged Chinn's liquor very deeply - upon his +back and right shoulder all men had seen the same angry red +Flying Cloud that the high Gods had set on the flesh of Jan +Chinn the First when first he came to the Bhil. As concerned the +foolish white world which has no eyes, he was a slim and young +officer in the Wuddars; but his own people knew he was Jan Chinn, +who had made the Bhil a man; and, believing, they hastened to +carry his words, careful never to alter them on the way. + +Because the savage and the child who plays lonely games have one +horror of being laughed at or questioned, the little folk kept +their convictions to themselves; and the Colonel, who thought he +knew his regiment, never guessed that each one of the six hundred +quick-footed, beady-eyed rank-and-file, to attention beside their +rifles, believed serenely and unshakenly that the subaltern on the +left flank of the line was a demi-god twice born - tutelary deity +of their land and people. The Earth-gods themselves had stamped +the incarnation, and who would dare to doubt the handiwork of the +Earth-gods? + +Chinn, being practical above all things, saw that his family name +served him well in the lines and in camp. His men gave no +trouble - one does not commit regimental offences with a god in +the chair of justice - and he was sure of the best beaters in the +district when he needed them. They believed that the protection +of Jan Chinn the First cloaked them, and were bold in that belief +beyond the utmost daring of excited Bhils. + +His quarters began to look like an amateur natural-history museum, +in spite of duplicate heads and horns and skulls that he sent home +to Devonshire. The people, very humanly, learned the weak side of +their god. It is true he was unbribable, but bird-skins, +butterflies, beetles, and, above all, news of big game pleased him. + In other respects, too, he lived up to the Chinn tradition. He +was fever-proof. A night's sitting out over a tethered goat in a +damp valley, that would have filled the Major with a month's malaria, +had no effect on him. He was, as they said, "salted before he was +born." + +Now in the autumn of his second year's service an uneasy rumour +crept out of the earth and ran about among the Bhils. Chinn heard +nothing of it till a brother-officer said across the mess-table: +"Your revered ancestor's on the rampage in the Satpura country. +You'd better look him up." + +"I don't want to be disrespectful, but I'm a little sick of my +revered ancestor. Bukta talks of nothing else. What's the old +boy supposed to be doing now?" + +"Riding cross-country by moonlight on his processional tiger. +That's the story. He's been seen by about two thousand Bhils, +skipping along the tops of the Satpuras, and scaring people to +death. They believe it devoutly, and all the Satpura chaps are +worshipping away at his shrine - tomb, I mean - like good uns. You +really ought to go down there. Must be a queer thing to see your +grandfather treated as a god." + +"What makes you think there's any truth in the tale?" said Chinn. + +"Because all our men deny it. They say they've never heard of +Chinn's tiger. Now that's a manifest lie, because every Bhil has." + +"There's only one thing you've overlooked," said the Colonel, +thoughtfully. "When a local god reappears on earth, it's always +an excuse for trouble of some kind; and those Satpura Bhils are +about as wild as your grandfather left them, young un. It means +something." + +"Meanin' they may go on the war-path?" said Chinn. + +"'Can't say - as yet. 'Shouldn't be surprised a little bit." + +"I haven't been told a syllable." + +"Proves it all the more. They are keeping something back." + +"Bukta tells me everything, too, as a rule. Now, why didn't he +tell me that?" + +Chinn put the question directly to the old man that night, and +the answer surprised him. + +"Why should I tell what is well known? Yes, the Clouded Tiger is +out in the Satpura country." + +"What do the wild Bhils think that it means?" + +They do not know. They wait. Sahib, what is coming? Say only one +little word, and we will be content." + +"We? What have tales from the south, where the jungly Bhils live, +to do with drilled men?" + +"When Jan Chinn wakes is no time for any Bhil to be quiet." + +"But he has not waked, Bukta." + +"Sahib" - the old man's eyes were full of tender reproof - "if he +does not wish to be seen, why does he go abroad in the moonlight? +We know he is awake, but we do not know what he desires. Is it a +sign for all the Bhils, or one that concerns the Satpura folk alone? +Say one little word, Sahib, that I may carry it to the lines, and +send on to our villages. Why does Jan Chinn ride out? Who has done +wrong? Is it pestilence? Is it murrain? Will our children die? +Is it a sword? Remember, Sahib, we are thy people and thy servants, +and in this life I bore thee in my arms - not knowing." + +"Bukta has evidently looked on the cup this evening," Chinn thought; +"but if I can do anything to soothe the old chap I must. It's like +the Mutiny rumours on a small scale." + +He dropped into a deep wicker chair, over which was thrown his +first tiger-skin, and his weight on the cushion flapped the clawed +paws over his shoulders. He laid hold of them mechanically as he +spoke, drawing the painted hide, cloak-fashion, about him. + +"Now will I tell the truth, Bukta," he said, leaning forward, the +dried muzzle on his shoulder, to invent a specious lie. + +"I see that it is the truth," was the answer, in a shaking voice. + +"Jan Chinn goes abroad among the Satpuras, riding on the Clouded +Tiger, ye say? Be it so. Therefore the sign of the wonder is for +the Satpura Bhils only, and does not touch the Bhils who plough +in the north and east, the Bhils of the Khandesh, or any others, +except the Satpura Bhils, who, as we know, are wild and foolish." + +"It is, then, a sign for them. Good or bad?" + +"Beyond doubt, good. For why should Jan Chinn make evil to those +whom he has made men? The nights over yonder are hot; it is ill +to lie in one bed over-long without turning, and Jan Chinn would +look again upon his people. So he rises, whistles his Clouded +Tiger, and goes abroad a little to breathe the cool air. If the +Satpura Bhils kept to their villages, and did not wander after +dark, they would not see him. Indeed, Bukta, it is no more than +that he would see the light again in his own country. Send this +news south, and say that it is my word." + +Bukta bowed to the floor. "Good Heavens!" thought Chinn, "and +this blinking pagan is a first-class officer, and as straight as +a die! I may as well round it off neatly." He went on: + +"If the Satpura Bhils ask the meaning of the sign, tell them that +Jan Chinn would see how they kept their old promises of good living. +Perhaps they have plundered; perhaps they mean to disobey the +orders of the Government; perhaps there is a dead man in the jungle; +and so Jan Chinn has come to see." + +"Is he, then, angry?" + +"Bah! Am I ever angry with my Bhils? I say angry words, and +threaten many things. Thou knowest, Bukta. I have seen thee smile +behind the hand. I know, and thou knowest. The Bhils are my +children. I have said it many times." + +"Ay. We be thy children," said Bukta. + +"And no otherwise is it with Jan Chinn, my father's father. He +would see the land he loved and the people once again. It is a +good ghost, Bukta. I say it. Go and tell them. And I do hope +devoutly," he added, "that it will calm 'em down." Flinging back +the tiger-skin, he rose with a long, unguarded yawn that showed +his well-kept teeth. + +Bukta fled, to be received in the lines by a knot of panting +inquirers. + +"It is true," said Bukta. "He wrapped him-self in the skin, and +spoke from it. He would see his own country again. The sign is +not for us; and, indeed, he is a young man. How should he lie +idle of nights? He says his bed is too hot and the air is bad. +He goes to and fro for the love of night-running. He has said it." + +The grey-whiskered assembly shuddered. + +"He says the Bhils are his children. Ye know he does not lie. He +has said it to me." + +"But what of the Satpura Bhils? What means the sign for them?" + +"Nothing. It is only night-running, as I have said. He rides to +see if they obey the Government, as he taught them to do in his +first life." + +"And what if they do not?" + +"He did not say." + +The light went out in Chinn's quarters. + +"Look," said Bukta. "Now he goes away. None the less it is a +good ghost, as he has said. How shall we fear Jan Chinn, who made +the Bhil a man? His protection is on us; and ye know Jan Chinn +never broke a protection spoken or written on paper. When he is +older and has found him a wife he will lie in his bed till morning." + +A commanding officer is generally aware of the regimental state of +mind a little before the men; and this is why the Colonel said, a +few days later, that some one had been putting the Fear of God into +the Wuddars. As he was the only person officially entitled to do +this, it distressed him to see such unanimous virtue. "It's too +good to last," he said. "I only wish I could find out what the +little chaps mean." + +The explanation, as it seemed to him, came at the change of the +moon, when he received orders to hold himself in readiness to +"allay any possible excitement" among the Satpura Bhils, who were, +to put it mildly, uneasy because a paternal Government had sent +up against them a Mahratta State-educated vaccinator, with lancets, +lymph, and an officially registered calf. In the language of +State, they had "manifested a strong objection to all prophylactic +measures," had "forcibly detained the vaccinator," and "were on +the point of neglecting or evading their tribal obligations." + +"That means they are in a blue funk - same as they were at +census-time," said the Colonel; "and if we stampede them into +the hills we'll never catch 'em, in the first place, and, in the +second, they'll whoop off plundering till further orders. 'Wonder +who the God-forsaken idiot is who is trying to vaccinate a Bhil. +I knew trouble was coming. One good thing is that they'll only +use local corps, and we can knock up something we'll call a +campaign, and let them down easy. Fancy us potting our best +beaters because they don't want to be vaccinated! They're only +crazy with fear." + +"Don't you think, sir," said Chinn, the next day, "that perhaps +you could give me a fortnight's shooting-leave?" + +"Desertion in the face of the enemy, by Jove!" The Colonel laughed. +"I might, but I'd have to antedate it a little, because we're +warned for service, as you might say. However, we'll assume that +you applied for leave three days ago, and are now well on your way +south." + +"I'd like to take Bukta with me." + +"Of course, yes. I think that will be the best plan. You've some +kind of hereditary influence with the little chaps, and they may +listen to you when a glimpse of our uniforms would drive them wild. +You've never been in that part of the world before, have you? Take +care they don't send you to your family vault in your youth and +innocence. I believe you'll be all right if you can get 'em to +listen to you." + +"I think so, sir; but if - if they should accidentally put an - +make asses of 'emselves - they might, you know - I hope you'll +represent that they were only frightened. There isn't an ounce of +real vice in 'em, and I should never forgive myself if any one of + - of my name got them into trouble." + +The Colonel nodded, but said nothing. + +Chinn and Bukta departed at once. Bukta did not say that, ever +since the official vaccinator had been dragged into the hills by +indignant Bhils, runner after runner had skulked up to the lines, +entreating, with forehead in the dust, that Jan Chinn should come +and explain this unknown horror that hung over his people. + +The portent of the Clouded Tiger was now too clear. Let Jan Chinn +comfort his own, for vain was the help of mortal man. Bukta toned +down these beseechings to a simple request for Chinn's presence. +Nothing would have pleased the old man better than a rough-and-tumble +campaign against the Satpuras, whom he, as an "unmixed" Bhil, +despised; but he had a duty to all his nation as Jan Chinn's +interpreter; and he devoutly believed that forty plagues would fall +on his village if he tampered with that obligation. Besides, Jan +Chinn knew all things, and he rode the Clouded Tiger. + +They covered thirty miles a day on foot and pony, raising the blue +wall-like line of the Satpuras as swiftly as might be. Bukta was +very silent. + +They began the steep climb a little after noon, but it was near +sunset ere they reached the stone platform clinging to the side of +a rifted, jungle-covered hill, where Jan Chinn the First was laid, +as he had desired, that he might overlook his people. All India +is full of neglected graves that date from the beginning of the +eighteenth century - tombs of forgotten colonels of corps long +since disbanded; mates of East India men who went on shooting +expeditions and never came back; factors, agents, writers, and +ensigns of the Honourable the East India Company by hundreds and +thousands and tens of thousands. English folk forget quickly, but +natives have long memories, and if a man has done good in his life +it is remembered after his death. The weathered marble four-square +tomb of Jan Chinn was hung about with wild flowers and nuts, +packets of wax and honey, bottles of native spirits, and infamous +cigars, with buffalo horns and plumes of dried grass. At one end +was a rude clay image of a white man, in the old-fashioned top-hat, +riding on a bloated tiger. + +Bukta salamed reverently as they approached. Chinn bared his head +and began to pick out the blurred inscription. So far as he could +read it ran thus - word for word, and letter for letter: + + To the Memory of JOHN CHINN, Esq. + Late Collector of............ + ....ithout Bloodshed or...error of Authority + Employ.only..cans of Conciliat...and Confiden. + accomplished the...tire Subjection... + a Lawless and Predatory Peop... + ....taching them to...ish Government + by a Conquest over....Minds + The most perma...and rational Mode of Domini.. + ...Governor General and Counc...engal + have ordered thi.....erected + ....arted this Life Aug. 19, 184..Ag... + +On the other side of the grave were ancient verses, also very worn. +As much as Chinn could decipher said: + + ....the savage band + Forsook their Haunts and b.....is Command + ....mended..rais check a...st for spoil. + And.s.ing Hamlets prove his gene....toil. + Humanit...survey......ights restor.. + A Nation..ield..subdued without a Sword. + +For some little time he leaned on the tomb thinking of this dead +man of his own blood, and of the house in Devonshire; then, +nodding to the plains: "Yes; it's a big work all of it even my +little share. He must have been worth knowing.... Bukta, where +are my people?" + +"Not here, Sahib. No man comes here except in full sun. They +wait above. Let us climb and see." + +But Chinn, remembering the first law of Oriental diplomacy, in an +even voice answered: "I have come this far only because the Satpura +folk are foolish, and dared not visit our lines. Now bid them wait +on me here. I am not a servant, but the master of Bhils." + +"I go - I go," clucked the old man. Night was falling, and at any +moment Jan Chinn might whistle up his dreaded steed from the +darkening scrub. + +Now for the first time in a long life Bukta disobeyed a lawful +command and deserted his leader; for he did not come back, but +pressed to the flat table-top of the hill, and called softly. Men +stirred all about him - little trembling men with bows and arrows +who had watched the two since noon. + +"Where is he?" whispered one. + +"At his own place. He bids you come," said Bukta. + +"Now?" + +"Now." + +"Rather let him loose the Clouded Tiger upon us. We do not go." + +"Nor I, though I bore him in my arms when he was a child in this +his life. Wait here till the day." + +"But surely he will be angry." + +"He will be very angry, for he has nothing to eat. But he has said +to me many times that the Bhils are his children. By sunlight I +believe this, but - by moonlight I am not so sure. What folly have +ye Satpura pigs compassed that ye should need him at all?" + +"One came to us in the name of the Government with little +ghost-knives and a magic calf, meaning to turn us into cattle by +the cutting off of our arms. We were greatly afraid, but we did +not kill the man. He is here, bound - a black man; and we think +he comes from the west. He said it was an order to cut us all +with knives - especially the women and the children. We did not +hear that it was an order, so we were afraid, and kept to our +hills. Some of our men have taken ponies and bullocks from the +plains, and others pots and cloths and ear-rings." + +"Are any slain?" + +"By our men? Not yet. But the young men are blown to and fro by +many rumours like flames upon a hill. I sent runners asking for +Jan Chinn lest worse should come to us. It was this fear that he +foretold by the sign of the Clouded Tiger. + +He says it is otherwise," said Bukta; and he repeated, with +amplifications, all that young Chinn had told him at the conference +of the wicker chair. + +"Think you," said the questioner, at last, "that the Government +will lay hands on us?" + +"Not I," Bukta rejoined. "Jan Chinn will give an order, and ye +will obey. The rest is between the Government and Jan Chinn. I +myself know something of the ghost-knives and the scratching. It +is a charm against the Smallpox. But how it is done I cannot tell. +Nor need that concern you." + +"If he stands by us and before the anger of the Government we will +most strictly obey Jan Chinn, except - except we do not go down to +that place to-night." + +They could hear young Chinn below them shouting for Bukta; but they +cowered and sat still, expecting the Clouded Tiger. The tomb had +been holy ground for nearly half a century. If Jan Chinn chose to +sleep there, who had better right? But they would not come within +eyeshot of the place till broad day. + +At first Chinn was exceedingly angry, till it occurred to him that +Bukta most probably had a reason (which, indeed, he had), and his +own dignity might suffer if he yelled without answer. He propped +himself against the foot of the grave, and, alternately dozing and +smoking, came through the warm night proud that he was a lawful, +legitimate, fever-proof Chinn. + +He prepared his plan of action much as his grandfather would have +done; and when Bukta appeared in the morning with a most liberal +supply of food, said nothing of the overnight desertion. Bukta +would have been relieved by an outburst of human anger; but Chinn +finished his victual leisurely, and a cheroot, ere he made any +sign. + +They are very much afraid," said Bukta, who was not too bold +himself. "It remains only to give orders. They said they will +obey if thou wilt only stand between them and the Government." + +"That I know," said Chinn, strolling slowly to the table-land. A +few of the elder men stood in an irregular semicircle in an open +glade; but the ruck of people - women and children were hidden +in the thicket. They had no desire to face the first anger of Jan +Chinn the First. + +Seating himself on a fragment of split rock, he smoked his cheroot +to the butt, hearing men breathe hard all about him. Then he +cried, so suddenly that they jumped: + +"Bring the man that was bound!" + +A scuffle and a cry were followed by the appearance of a Hindoo +vaccinator, quaking with fear, bound hand and foot, as the Bhils +of old were accustomed to bind their human sacrifices. He was +pushed cautiously before the presence; but young Chinn did not +look at him. + +"I said - the man that was bound. Is it a jest to bring me one +tied like a buffalo? Since when could the Bhil bind folk at his +pleasure? Cut!" + +Half a dozen hasty knives cut away the thongs, and the man +crawled to Chinn, who pocketed his case of lancets and tubes of +lymph. Then, sweeping the semicircle with one comprehensive +forefinger, and in the voice of compliment, he said, clearly and +distinctly: " Pigs! + +"Ai!" whispered Bukta. "Now he speaks. Woe to foolish people!" + +"I have come on foot from my house" (the assembly shuddered) "to +make clear a matter which any other Satpura Bhil would have seen +with both eyes from a distance. Ye know the Smallpox who pits +and scars your children so that they look like wasp-combs. It is +an order of the Government that whoso is scratched on the arm with +these little knives which I hold up is charmed against her. All +Sahibs are thus charmed, and very many Hindoos. This is the mark +of the charm. Look!" + +He rolled back his sleeve to the armpit and showed the white scars +of the vaccination-mark on his white skin. "Come, all, and look." + +A few daring spirits came up, and nodded their heads wisely. There +was certainly a mark, and they knew well what other dread marks +were hidden by the shirt. Merciful was Jan Chinn, that then and +there proclaimed his godhead! + +"Now all these things the man whom ye bound told you." + +"I did - a hundred times; but they answered with blows," groaned +the operator, chafing his wrists and ankles. + +"But, being pigs, ye did not believe; and so came I here to save +you, first from Smallpox, next from a great folly of fear, and +lastly, it may be, from the rope and the jail. It is no gain to +me; it is no pleasure to me: but for the sake of that one who is +yonder, who made the Bhil a man" - he pointed down the hill - " +I, who am of his blood, the son of his son, come to turn your +people. And I speak the truth, as did Jan Chinn." + +The crowd murmured reverently, and men stole out of the thicket +by twos and threes to join it. There was no anger in their god's +face. + +"These are my orders. (Heaven send they'll take 'em, but I seem +to have impressed 'em so far!) I myself will stay among you while +this man scratches your arms with the knives, after the order of +the Government. In three, or it may be five or seven, days, your +arms will swell and itch and burn. That is the power of Smallpox +fighting in your base blood against the orders of the Government +I will therefore stay among you till I see that Smallpox is +conquered, and I will not go away till the men and the women and +the little children show me upon their arms such marks as I have +even now showed you. I bring with me two very good guns, and a +man whose name is known among beasts and men. We will hunt +together, I and he and your young men, and the others shall eat +and lie still. This is my order." + +There was a long pause while victory hung in the balance. A +white-haired old sinner, standing on one uneasy leg, piped up: + +"There are ponies and some few bullocks and other things for +which we need a kowl [protection]. They were not taken in the +way of trade." + +The battle was won, and John Chinn drew a breath of relief. The +young Bhils had been raiding, but if taken swiftly all could be +put straight. + +"I will write a kowl so soon as the ponies, the bullocks, and the +other things are counted before me and sent back whence they came. +But first we will put the Government mark on such as have not been +visited by Smallpox." In an undertone, to the vaccinator: "If you +show you are afraid you'll never see Poona again, my friend." + +"There is not sufficient ample supply of vaccination for all this +population," said the man. "They destroyed the offeecial calf." + +They won't know the difference. Scrape 'em and give me a couple +of lancets; I'll attend to the elders." + +The aged diplomat who had demanded protection was the first victim. +He fell to Chinn's hand and dared not cry out. As soon as he was +freed he dragged up a companion, and held him fast, and the crisis +became, as it were, a child's sport; for the vaccinated chased the +unvaccinated to treatment, vowing that all the tribe must suffer +equally. The women shrieked, and the children ran howling; but +Chinn laughed, and waved the pink-tipped lancet. + +"It is an honour," he cried. "Tell them, Bukta, how great an honour +it is that I myself mark them. Nay, I cannot mark every one - the +Hindoo must also do his work - but I will touch all marks that he +makes, so there will be an equal virtue in them. Thus do the +Rajputs stick pigs. Ho, brother with one eye! Catch that girl and +bring her to me. She need not run away yet, for she is not married, +and I do not seek her in marriage. She will not come? Then she +shall be shamed by her little brother, a fat boy, a bold boy. He +puts out his arm like a soldier. Look! He does not flinch at the +blood. Some day he shall be in my regiment. And now, mother of +many, we will lightly touch thee, for Smallpox has been before us +here. It is a true thing, indeed, that this charm breaks the power +of Mata. There will be no more pitted faces among the Satpuras, +and so ye can ask many cows for each maid to be wed." + +And so on and so on - quick-poured showman's patter, sauced in +the Bhil hunting-proverbs and tales of their own brand of coarse +humour till the lancets were blunted and both operators worn out. + +But, nature being the same the world over, the unvaccinated grew +jealous of their marked comrades, and came near to blows about +it. Then Chinn declared himself a court of justice, no longer a +medical board, and made formal inquiry into the late robberies. + +"We are the thieves of Mahadeo," said the Bhils, simply. "It is +our fate, and we were frightened. When we are frightened we always +steal." + +Simply and directly as children, they gave in the tale of the +plunder, all but two bullocks and some spirits that had gone +amissing (these Chinn promised to make good out of his own pocket), +and ten ringleaders were despatched to the lowlands with a +wonderful document, written on the leaf of a note-book, and +addressed to an Assistant District Superintendent of Police. There +was warm calamity in that note, as Jan Chinn warned them, but +anything was better than loss of liberty. + +Armed with this protection, the repentant raiders went down-hill. +They had no desire whatever to meet Mr. Dundas Fawne of the Police, +aged twenty-two, and of a cheerful countenance, nor did they wish +to revisit the scene of their robberies. Steering a middle course, +they ran into the camp of the one Government chaplain allowed to +the various irregular corps through a district of some fifteen +thousand square miles, and stood before him in a cloud of dust. He +was by way of being a priest, they knew, and, what was more to the +point, a good sportsman who paid his beaters generously. + +When he read Chinn's note he laughed, which they deemed a lucky +omen, till he called up policemen, who tethered the ponies and the +bullocks by the piled house-gear, and laid stern hands upon three +of that smiling band of the thieves of Mahadeo. The chaplain +himself addressed them magisterially with a riding-whip. That was +painful, but Jan Chinn had prophesied it. They submitted, but +would not give up the written protection, fearing the jail. On +their way back they met Mr. D. Fawne, who had heard about the +robberies, and was not pleased. + +"Certainly," said the eldest of the gang, when the second +interview was at an end, "certainly Jan Chinn's protection has +saved us our liberty, but it is as though there were many beatings +in one small piece of paper. Put it away." + +One climbed into a tree, and stuck the letter into a cleft forty +feet from the ground, where it could do no harm. Warmed, sore, +but happy, the ten returned to Jan Chinn next day, where he sat +among uneasy Bhils, all looking at their right arms, and all +bound under terror of their god's disfavour not to scratch. + +"It was a good kowl," said the leader. "First the chaplain, who +laughed, took away our plunder, and beat three of us, as was +promised. Next, we meet Fawne Sahib, who frowned, and asked for +the plunder. We spoke the truth, and so he beat us all, one +after another, and called us chosen names. He then gave us these +two bundles" - they set down a bottle of whisky and a box of +cheroots -" and we came away. The kowl is left in a tree, because +its virtue is that so soon as we show it to a Sahib we are beaten." + +"But for that kowl" said Jan Chinn, sternly, "ye would all have +been marching to jail with a policeman on either side. Ye come +now to serve as beaters for me. These people are unhappy, and we +will go hunting till they are well. To-night we will make a feast." + +It is written in the chronicles of the Satpura Bhils, together +with many other matters not fit for print, that through five days, +after the day that he had put his mark upon them, Jan Chinn the +First hunted for his people; and on the five nights of those days +the tribe was gloriously and entirely drunk. Jan Chinn bought +country spirits of an awful strength, and slew wild pig and deer +beyond counting, so that if any fell sick they might have two good +reasons. + +Between head- and stomach-aches they found no time to think of +their arms, but followed Jan Chinn obediently through the jungles, +and with each day's returning confidence men, women, and children +stole away to their villages as the little army passed by. They +carried news that it was good and right to be scratched with +ghost-knives; that Jan Chinn was indeed reincarnated as a god of +free food and drink, and that of all nations the Satpura Bhils +stood first in his favour, if they would only refrain from +scratching. Henceforward that kindly demi-god would be connected +in their minds with great gorgings and the vaccine and lancets of +a paternal Government. + +"And to-morrow I go back to my home," said Jan Chinn to his +faithful few, whom neither spirits, overeating, nor swollen glands +could conquer. It is hard for children and savages to behave +reverently at all times to the idols of their make-belief; and +they had frolicked excessively with Jan Chinn. But the reference +to his home cast a gloom on the people. + +"And the Sahib will not come again?" said he who had been vaccinated +first. + +"That is to be seen," answered Chinn, warily. + +"Nay, but come as a white man - come as a young man whom we know +and love; for, as thou alone knowest, we are a weak people. If +we again saw thy - thy horse -" They were picking up their courage. + +"I have no horse. I came on foot with Bukta, yonder. What is +this?" + +"Thou knowest - the thing that thou hast chosen for a night-horse." + The little men squirmed in fear and awe. + +"Night-horses? Bukta, what is this last tale of children?" + +Bukta had been a silent leader in Chinn's presence since the night +of his desertion, and was grateful for a chance-flung question. + +They know, Sahib," he whispered. "It is the Clouded Tiger. That +that comes from the place where thou didst once sleep. It is thy +horse - as it has been these three generations." + +"My horse! That was a dream of the Bhils." + +"It is no dream. Do dreams leave the tracks of broad pugs on +earth? Why make two faces before thy people? They know of the +night-ridings, and they - and they - " + +"Are afraid, and would have them cease." + +Bukta nodded. "If thou hast no further need of him. He is thy +horse." + +"The thing leaves a trail, then?" said Chinn. + +"We have seen it. It is like a village road under the tomb." + +"Can ye find and follow it for me?" + +"By daylight - if one comes with us, and, above all, stands near +by." + +"I will stand close, and we will see to it that Jan Chinn does +not ride any more." + +The Bhils shouted the last words again and again. + +>From Chinn's point of view the stalk was nothing more than an +ordinary one - down-hill, through split and crannied rocks, unsafe, +perhaps, if a man did not keep his wits by him, but no worse than +twenty others he had undertaken. Yet his men - they refused +absolutely to beat, and would only trail - dripped sweat at every +move. They showed the marks of enormous pugs that ran, always +down-hill, to a few hundred feet below Jan Chinn's tomb, and +disappeared in a narrow-mouthed cave. It was an insolently open +road, a domestic highway, beaten without thought of concealment. + +"The beggar might be paying rent and taxes," Chinn muttered ere +he asked whether his friend's taste ran to cattle or man. + +"Cattle," was the answer. "Two heifers a week. We drive them for +him at the foot of the hill. It is his custom. If we did not, he +might seek us." + +"Blackmail and piracy," said Chinn. "I can't say I fancy going +into the cave after him. What's to be done?" + +The Bhils fell back as Chinn lodged himself behind a rock with +his rifle ready. Tigers, he knew, were shy beasts, but one who +had been long cattle-fed in this sumptuous style might prove +overbold. + +"He speaks!" some one whispered from the rear. "He knows, too." + +"Well, of all the infernal cheek!" said Chinn. There was an angry +growl from the cave - a direct challenge. + +"Come out, then," Chinn shouted. "Come out of that. Let's have a +look at you." The brute knew well enough that there was some +connection between brown nude Bhils and his weekly allowance; but +the white helmet in the sunlight annoyed him, and he did not approve +of the voice that broke his rest. Lazily as a gorged snake, he +dragged himself out of the cave, and stood yawning and blinking at +the entrance. The sunlight fell upon his flat right side, and +Chinn wondered. Never had he seen a tiger marked after this fashion. +Except for his head, which was staringly barred, he was dappled - +not striped, but dappled like a child's rocking-horse in rich shades +of smoky black on red gold. That portion of his belly and throat +which should have been white was orange, and his tail and paws were +black. + +He looked leisurely for some ten seconds, and then deliberately +lowered his head, his chin dropped and drawn in, staring intently +at the man. The effect of this was to throw forward the round +arch of his skull, with two broad bands across it, while below the +bands glared the unwinking eyes; so that, head on, as he stood, he +showed something like a diabolically scowling pantomime-mask. It +was a piece of natural mesmerism that he had practised many times +on his quarry, and though Chinn was by no means a terrified heifer, +he stood for a while, held by the extraordinary oddity of the +attack. The head - the body seemed to have been packed away behind +it - the ferocious, skull-like head, crept nearer to the switching +of an angry tail-tip in the grass. Left and right the Bhils had +scattered to let John Chinn subdue his own horse. + +"My word!" he thought. "He's trying to frighten me!" and fired +between the saucer-like eyes, leaping aside upon the shot. + +A big coughing mass, reeking of carrion, bounded past him up the +hill, and he followed discreetly. The tiger made no attempt to +turn into the jungle; he was hunting for sight and breath - nose +up, mouth open, the tremendous fore-legs scattering the gravel in +spurts. + +Scuppered!" said John Chinn, watching the flight. "Now if he was +a partridge he'd tower. Lungs must be full of blood." + +The brute had jerked himself over a boulder and fallen out of +sight the other side. John Chinn looked over with a ready barrel. +But the red trail led straight as an arrow even to his grandfather's +tomb, and there, among the smashed spirit-bottles and the fragments +of the mud image, the life left, with a flurry and a grunt. + +"If my worthy ancestor could see that," said John Chinn, "he'd +have been proud of me. Eyes, lower jaw, and lungs. A very nice +shot." He whistled for Bukta as he drew the tape over the +stiffening bulk. + +"Ten - six - eight - by Jove! It's nearly eleven - call it eleven. +Fore-arm, twenty-four - five - seven and a half. A short tail, too: +three feet one. But what a skin! Oh, Bukta! Bukta! The men with +the knives swiftly." + +"Is he beyond question dead?" said an awe-stricken voice behind a +rock. + +"That was not the way I killed my first tiger," said Chinn. "I +did not think that Bukta would run. I had no second gun." + +"It - it is the Clouded Tiger," said Bukta, un-heeding the taunt. + +"He is dead." + +Whether all the Bhils, vaccinated and unvaccinated, of the +Satpuras had lain by to see the kill, Chinn could not say; but +the whole hill's flank rustled with little men, shouting, +singing, and stamping. And yet, till he had made the first cut +in the splendid skin, not a man would take a knife; and, when the +shadows fell, they ran from the red-stained tomb, and no persuasion +would bring them back till dawn. So Chinn spent a second night in +the open, guarding the carcass from jackals, and thinking about his +ancestor. + +He returned to the lowlands to the triumphal chant of an escorting +army three hundred strong, the Mahratta vaccinator close at his +elbow, and the rudely dried skin a trophy before him. When that +army suddenly and noiselessly disappeared, as quail in high corn, +he argued he was near civilisation, and a turn in the road brought +him upon the camp of a wing of his own corps. He left the skin on +a cart-tail for the world to see, and sought the Colonel. + +"They're perfectly right," he explained earnestly. "There isn't +an ounce of vice in 'em. They were only frightened. I've +vaccinated the whole boiling, and they like it awfully. What are +- what are we doing here, sir?" + +"That's what I'm trying to find out," said the Colonel. "I don't +know yet whether we're a piece of a brigade or a police force. +However, I think we'll call ourselves a police force. How did you +manage to get a Bhil vaccinated?" + +"Well, sir," said Chinn, " I've been thinking it over, and, as far +as I can make out, I've got a sort of hereditary influence over 'em." + +"So I know, or I wouldn't have sent you; but what, exactly?" + +"It's rather rummy. It seems, from what I can make out, that I'm +my own grandfather reincarnated, and I've been disturbing the +peace of the country by riding a pad-tiger of nights. If I hadn't +done that, I don't think they'd have objected to the vaccination; +but the two together were more than they could stand. And so, sir, +I've vaccinated 'em, and shot my tiger-horse as a sort o' proof of +good faith. You never saw such a skin in your life." + +The Colonel tugged his moustache thought-fully. "Now, how the +deuce," said he, "am I to include that in my report?" + +Indeed, the official version of the Bhils' anti-vaccination +stampede said nothing about Lieutenant John Chinn, his godship. +But Bukta knew, and the corps knew, and every Bhil in the Satpura +hills knew. + +And now Bukta is zealous that John Chinn shall swiftly be wedded +and impart his powers to a son; for if the Chinn succession fails, +and the little Bhils are left to their own imaginings, there will +be fresh trouble in the Satpuras. + + + + +THE DEVIL AND THE DEEP SEA + +All supplies very bad and dear, and there are no facilities for +even the smallest repairs. - Sailing Directions. + + +Her nationality was British, but you will not find her house-flag +in the list of our mercantile marine. She was a nine-hundred-ton, +iron, schooner-rigged, screw cargo-boat, differing externally in +no way from any other tramp of the sea. But it is with steamers +as it is with men. There are those who will for a consideration +sail extremely close to the wind; and, in the present state of a +fallen world, such people and such steamers have their use. From +the hour that the Aglaia first entered the Clyde - new, shiny, and +innocent, with a quart of cheap champagne trickling down her +cut-water - Fate and her owner, who was also her captain, decreed +that she should deal with embarrassed crowned heads, fleeing +Presidents, financiers of over-extended ability, women to whom +change of air was imperative, and the lesser law-breaking Powers. +Her career led her sometimes into the Admiralty Courts, where the +sworn statements of her skipper filled his brethren with envy. The +mariner cannot tell or act a lie in the face of the sea, or +mis-lead a tempest; but, as lawyers have discovered, he makes up +for chances withheld when he returns to shore, an affidavit in +either hand. + +The Aglaia figured with distinction in the great Mackinaw +salvage-case. It was her first slip from virtue, and she learned +how to change her name, but not her heart, and to run across the +sea. As the Guiding Light she was very badly wanted in a South +American port for the little matter of entering harbour at full +speed, colliding with a coal-hulk and the State's only man-of-war, +just as that man-of-war was going to coal. She put to sea without +explanations, though three forts fired at her for half an hour. +As the Julia M'Gregor she had been concerned in picking up from a +raft certain gentlemen who should have stayed in Noumea, but who +preferred making themselves vastly unpleasant to authority in +quite another quarter of the world; and as the Shah-in-Shah she +had been overtaken on the high seas, indecently full of munitions +of war, by the cruiser of an agitated Power at issue with its +neighbour. That time she was very nearly sunk, and her riddled +hull gave eminent lawyers of two countries great profit. After a +season she reappeared as the Martin Hunt painted a dull slate-colour, +with pure saffron funnel, and boats of robin's-egg blue, engaging +in the Odessa trade till she was invited (and the invitation could +not well be disregarded) to keep away from Black Sea ports +altogether. + +She had ridden through many waves of depression. Freights might +drop out of sight, Seamen's Unions throw spanners and nuts at +certificated masters, or stevedores combine till cargo perished +on the dock-head; but the boat of many names came and went, busy, +alert, and inconspicuous always. Her skipper made no complaint of +hard times, and port officers observed that her crew signed and +signed again with the regularity of Atlantic liner boatswains. Her +name she changed as occasion called; her well-paid crew never; and +a large percentage of the profits of her voyages was spent with an +open hand on her engine-room. She never troubled the underwriters, +and very seldom stopped to talk with a signal-station, for her +business was urgent and private. + +But an end came to her tradings, and she perished in this manner. +Deep peace brooded over Europe, Asia, Africa, America, Australasia, +and Polynesia. The Powers dealt together more or less honestly; +banks paid their depositors to the hour; diamonds of price came +safely to the hands of their owners; Republics rested content with +their Dictators; diplomats found no one whose presence in the least +incommoded them; monarchs lived openly with their lawfully wedded +wives. It was as though the whole earth had put on its best Sunday +bib and tucker; and business was very bad for the Martin Hunt. The +great, virtuous calm engulfed her, slate sides, yellow funnel, and +all, but cast up in another hemisphere the steam whaler Haliotis, +black and rusty, with a manure-coloured funnel, a litter of dingy +white boats, and an enormous stove, or furnace, for boiling blubber +on her forward well-deck. There could be no doubt that her trip +was successful, for she lay at several ports not too well known, +and the smoke of her trying-out insulted the beaches. + +Anon she departed, at the speed of the average London four-wheeler, +and entered a semi-inland sea, warm, still, and blue, which is, +perhaps, the most strictly preserved water in the world. There she +stayed for a certain time, and the great stars of those mild skies +beheld her playing puss-in-the-corner among islands where whales +are never found. All that while she smelt abominably, and the +smell, though fishy, was not whalesome. One evening calamity +descended upon her from the island of Pygang-Watai, and she fled, +while her crew jeered at a fat black-and-brown gunboat puffing far +behind. They knew to the last revolution the capacity of every +boat, on those seas, that they were anxious to avoid. A British +ship with a good conscience does not, as a rule, flee from the +man-of-war of a foreign Power, and it is also considered a breach +of etiquette to stop and search British ships at sea. These things +the skipper of the Haliotis did not pause to prove, but held on at +an inspiriting eleven knots an hour till nightfall. One thing only +he overlooked. + +The Power that kept an expensive steam-patrol moving up and down +those waters (they had dodged the two regular ships of the station +with an ease that bred contempt) had newly brought up a third and +a fourteen-knot boat with a clean bottom to help the work; and that +was why the Haliotis, driving hard from the east to the west, found +herself at daylight in such a position that she could not help +seeing an arrangement of four flags, a mile and a half behind, which +read: "Heave to, or take the consequences!" + +She had her choice, and she took it. The end came when, presuming +on her lighter draught, she tried to draw away northward over a +friendly shoal. The shell that arrived by way of the Chief +Engineer's cabin was some five inches in diameter, with a practice, +not a bursting, charge. It had been intended to cross her bows, +and that was why it knocked the framed portrait of the Chief +Engineer's wife - and she was a very pretty girl - on to the floor, +splintered his wash-hand stand, crossed the alleyway into the +engine-room, and striking on a grating, dropped directly in front +of the forward engine, where it burst, neatly fracturing both the +bolts that held the connecting-rod to the forward crank. + +What follows is worth consideration. The forward engine had no more +work to do. Its released piston-rod, therefore, drove up fiercely, +with nothing to check it, and started most of the nuts of the +cylinder-cover. It came down again, the full weight of the steam +behind it, and the foot of the disconnected connecting-rod, useless +as the leg of a man with a sprained ankle, flung out to the right +and struck the starboard, or right-hand, cast-iron supporting-column +of the forward engine, cracking it clean through about six inches +above the base, and wedging the upper portion outwards three inches +towards the ship's side. There the connecting-rod jammed. Meantime, +the after-engine, being as yet unembarrassed, went on with its work, +and in so doing brought round at its next revolution the crank of +the forward engine, which smote the already jammed connecting-rod, +bending it and therewith the piston-rod cross-head - the big +cross-piece that slides up and down so smoothly. + +The cross-head jammed sideways in the guides, and, in addition to +putting further pressure on the already broken starboard +supporting-column, cracked the port, or left-hand, supporting-column +in two or three places. There being nothing more that could be +made to move, the engines brought up, all standing, with a hiccup +that seemed to lift the Haliotis a foot out of the water; and the +engine-room staff, opening every steam outlet that they could find +in the confusion, arrived on deck somewhat scalded, but calm. There +was a sound below of things happening - a rushing, clicking, purring, +grunting, rattling noise that did not last for more than a minute. +It was the machinery adjusting itself, on the spur of the moment, +to a hundred altered conditions. Mr. Wardrop, one foot on the +upper grating, inclined his ear sideways, and groaned. You cannot +stop engines working at twelve knots an hour in three seconds +without disorganising them. The Haliotis slid forward in a cloud +of steam, shrieking like a wounded horse. There was nothing more +to do. The five-inch shell with a reduced charge had settled the +situation. And when you are full, all three holds, of strictly +preserved pearls; when you have cleaned out the Tanna Bank, the +Sea-Horse Bank, and four other banks from one end to the other +of the Amanala Sea - when you have ripped out the very heart of +a rich Government monopoly so that five years will not repair your +wrong-doings - you must smile and take what is in store. But the +skipper reflected, as a launch put out from the man-of-war, that +he had been bombarded on the high seas, with the British flag - +several of them - picturesquely disposed above him, and tried to +find comfort from the thought. + +Where," said the stolid naval lieutenant hoisting himself aboard, +"where are those dam' pearls?" + +They were there beyond evasion. No affidavit could do away with +the fearful smell of decayed oysters, the diving-dresses, and the +shell-littered hatches. They were there to the value of seventy +thousand pounds, more or less; and every pound poached. + +The man-of-war was annoyed; for she had used up many tons of coal, +she had strained her tubes, and, worse than all, her officers and +crew had been hurried. Every one on the Haliotis was arrested and +rearrested several times, as each officer came aboard; then they +were told by what they esteemed to be the equivalent of a +midshipman that they were to consider themselves prisoners, and +finally were put under arrest. + +It's not the least good," said the skipper, suavely. "You'd much +better send us a tow - " + +"Be still - you are arrest!" was the reply. + +"Where the devil do you expect we are going to escape to?" We're +helpless. You've got to tow us into somewhere, and explain why +you fired on us. Mr. Wardrop, we're helpless, aren't we?" + +"Ruined from end to end," said the man of machinery. "If she rolls, +the forward cylinder will come down and go through her bottom. Both +columns are clean cut through. There's nothing to hold anything up." + +The council of war clanked off to see if Mr. Wardrop's words were +true. He warned them that it was as much as a man's life was worth +to enter the engine-room, and they contented themselves with a +distant inspection through the thinning steam. The Haliotis lifted +to the long, easy swell, and the starboard supporting-column ground +a trifle, as a man grits his teeth under the knife. The forward +cylinder was depending on that unknown force men call the pertinacity +of materials, which now and then balances that other heartbreaking +power, the perversity of inanimate things. + +"You see!" said Mr. Wardrop, hurrying them away. "The engines +aren't worth their price as old iron." + +"We tow," was the answer. "Afterwards we shall confiscate." + +The man-of-war was short-handed, and did not see the necessity +for putting a prize-crew aboard the Haliotis. So she sent one +sublieutenant, whom the skipper kept very drunk, for he did not +wish to make the tow too easy, and, moreover, he had an +inconspicuous little rope hanging from the stem of his ship. + +Then they began to tow at an average speed of four knots an hour. +The Haliotis was very hard to move, and the gunnery-lieutenant, +who had fired the five-inch shell, had leisure to think upon +consequences. Mr. Wardrop was the busy man. He borrowed all the +crew to shore up the cylinders with spars and blocks from the +bottom and sides of the ship. It was a day's risky work; but +anything was better than drowning at the end of a tow-rope; and +if the forward cylinder had fallen, it would have made its way to +the sea-bed, and taken the Haliotis after. + +"Where are we going to, and how long will they tow us?" he asked +of the skipper. + +"God knows! and this prize-lieutenant's drunk. What do you think +you can do?" + +"There's just the bare chance," Mr. Wardrop whispered, though no +one was within hearing -"there's just the bare chance o' repairin' +her, if a man knew how. They've twisted the very guts out of her, +bringing her up with that jerk; but I'm saying that, with time +and patience, there's just the chance o' making steam yet. We +could do it." + +The skipper's eye brightened. "Do you mean," he began, "that she +is any good?" + +"Oh, no," said Mr. Wardrop. "She'll need three thousand pounds in +repairs, at the lowest, if she's to take the sea again, an' that +apart from any injury to her structure. She's like a man fallen +down five pair o' stairs. We can't tell for months what has +happened; but we know she'll never be good again without a new +inside. Ye should see the condenser-tubes an' the steam connections +to the donkey, for two things only. I'm not afraid of them repairin' +her. I'm afraid of them stealin' things." + +"They've fired on us. They'll have to explain that." + +"Our reputation's not good enough to ask for explanations. Let's +take what we have and be thankful. Ye would not have consuls +remembern' the Guidin' Light, an' the Shah-in-Shah, an' the Aglaia, +at this most alarmin' crisis. We've been no better than pirates +these ten years. Under Providence we're no worse than thieves now. +We've much to be thankful for - if we e'er get back to her." + +"Make it your own way, then," said the skipper. "If there's the +least chance - " + +"I'll leave none," said Mr. Wardrop - "none that they'll dare to +take. Keep her heavy on the tow, for we need time." + +The skipper never interfered with the affairs of the engine-room, +and Mr. Wardrop - an artist in his profession - turned to and +composed a work terrible and forbidding. His background was the +dark-grained sides of the engine-room; his material the metals +of power and strength, helped out with spars, baulks, and ropes. +The man-of-war towed sullenly and viciously. The Haliotis behind +her hummed like a hive before swarming. With extra and totally +unneeded spars her crew blocked up the space round the forward +engine till it resembled a statue in its scaffolding, and the +butts of the shores interfered with every view that a dispassionate +eye might wish to take. And that the dispassionate mind might be +swiftly shaken out of its calm, the well-sunk bolts of the shores +were wrapped round untidily with loose ends of ropes, giving a +studied effect of most dangerous insecurity. Next, Mr. Wardrop +took up a collection from the after-engine, which, as you will +remember, had not been affected in the general wreck. The cylinder +escape-valve he abolished with a flogging-hammer. It is difficult +in far-off ports to come by such valves, unless, like Mr. Wardrop, +you keep duplicates in store. At the same time men took off the +nuts of two of the great holding-down bolts that serve to keep the +engines in place on their solid bed. An engine violently arrested +in mid-career may easily jerk off the nut of a holding-down bolt, +and this accident looked very natural. + +Passing along the tunnel, he removed several shaft coupling-bolts +and -nuts, scattering other and ancient pieces of iron underfoot. +Cylinder-bolts he cut off to the number of six from the after-engine +cylinder, so that it might match its neighbour, and stuffed the +bilge - and feed-pumps with cotton-waste. Then he made up a neat +bundle of the various odds and ends that he had gathered from the +engines - little things like nuts and valve-spindles, all carefully +tallowed - and retired with them under the floor of the engine-room, +where he sighed, being fat, as he passed from manhole to manhole of +the double bottom, and in a fairly dry submarine compartment hid +them. Any engineer, particularly in an unfriendly port, has a +right to keep his spare stores where he chooses; and the foot of +one of the cylinder shores blocked all entrance into the regular +store-room, even if that had not been already closed with steel +wedges. In conclusion, he disconnected the after-engine, laid +piston and connecting-rod, carefully tallowed, where it would be +most inconvenient to the casual visitor, took out three of the +eight collars of the thrust-block, hid them where only he could find +them again, filled the boilers by hand, wedged the sliding doors +of the coal-bunkers, and rested from his labours. The engine-room +was a cemetery, and it did not need the contents of the ash-lift +through the skylight to make it any worse. + +He invited the skipper to look at the completed work. + +Saw ye ever such a forsaken wreck as that?" said he, proudly. +"It almost frights me to go under those shores. Now, what d' you +think they'll do to us?" + +"Wait till we see," said the skipper. "It'll be bad enough when +it comes." + +He was not wrong. The pleasant days of towing ended all too soon, +though the Haliotis trailed behind her a heavily weighted jib +stayed out into the shape of a pocket; and Mr. Wardrop was no +longer an artist of imagination, but one of seven-and-twenty +prisoners in a prison full of insects. The man-of-war had towed +them to the nearest port, not to the headquarters of the colony, +and when Mr. Wardrop saw the dismal little harbour, with its +ragged line of Chinese junks, its one crazy tug, and the +boat-building shed that, under the charge of a philosophical +Malay, represented a dockyard, he sighed and shook his head. + +"I did well," he said. "This is the habitation o' wreckers an' +thieves. We're at the uttermost ends of the earth. Think you +they'll ever know in England?" + +"Doesn't look like it," said the skipper. + +They were marched ashore with what they stood up in, under a +generous escort, and were judged according to the customs of the +country, which, though excellent, are a little out of date. +There were the pearls; there were the poachers; and there sat a +small but hot Governor. He consulted for a while, and then +things began to move with speed, for he did not wish to keep a +hungry crew at large on the beach, and the man-of-war had gone +up the coast. With a wave of his hand - a stroke of the pen was +not necessary - he consigned them to the black gang-tana, the +back-country, and the hand of the Law removed them from his sight +and the knowledge of men. They were marched into the palms, and +the back-country swallowed them up - all the crew of the Haliotis. + +Deep peace continued to brood over Europe, Asia, Africa, America, +Australasia, and Polynesia. + + * * * * * * * * * * * * + +It was the firing that did it. They should have kept their +counsel; but when a few thousand foreigners are bursting with joy +over the fact that a ship under the British flag has been fired at +on the high seas, news travels quickly; and when it came out that +the pearl-stealing crew had not been allowed access to their consul +(there was no consul within a few hundred miles of that lonely port) +even the friendliest of Powers has a right to ask questions. The +great heart of the British public was beating furiously on account +of the performance of a notorious race-horse, and had not a throb +to waste on distant accidents; but somewhere deep in the hull of +the ship of State there is machinery which more or less accurately +takes charge of foreign affairs. That machinery began to revolve, +and who so shocked and surprised as the Power that had captured the +Haliotis? It explained that colonial governors and far-away +men-of-war were difficult to control, and promised that it would +most certainly make an example both of the Governor and the vessel. +As for the crew reported to be pressed into military service in +tropical climes, it would produce them as soon as possible, and it +would apologise, if necessary. Now, no apologies were needed. +When one nation apologises to another, millions of amateurs who +have no earthly concern with the difficulty hurl themselves into +the strife and embarrass the trained specialist. It was requested +that the crew be found, if they were still alive - they had been +eight months beyond knowledge - and it was promised that all +would be forgotten. + +The little Governor of the little port was pleased with himself. +Seven-and-twenty white men made a very compact force to throw +away on a war that had neither beginning nor end - a jungle and +stockade fight that flickered and smouldered through the wet hot +years in the hills a hundred miles away, and was the heritage of +every wearied official. He had, he thought, deserved well of his +country; and if only some one would buy the unhappy Haliotis, +moored in the harbour below his verandah, his cup would be full. +He looked at the neatly silvered lamps that he had taken from her +cabins, and thought of much that might be turned to account. But +his countrymen in that moist climate had no spirit. They would +peep into the silent engine-room, and shake their heads. Even +the men-of-war would not tow her further up the coast, where the +Governor believed that she could be repaired. She was a bad +bargain; but her cabin carpets were undeniably beautiful, and his +wife approved of her mirrors. + +Three hours later cables were bursting round him like shells, for, +though he knew it not, he was being offered as a sacrifice by the +nether to the upper millstone, and his superiors had no regard for +his feelings. He had, said the cables, grossly exceeded his power, +and failed to report on events. He would, therefore - at this he +cast himself back in his hammock - produce the crew of the Haliotis. +He would send for them, and, if that failed, he would put his +dignity on a pony and fetch them himself. He had no conceivable +right to make pearl-poachers serve in any war. He would be held +responsible. + +Next morning the cables wished to know whether he had found the +crew of the Haliotis. They were to be found, freed and fed - he +was to feed them - till such time as they could be sent to the +nearest English port in a man-of-war. If you abuse a man long +enough in great words flashed over the sea-beds, things happen. +The Governor sent inland swiftly for his prisoners, who were also +soldiers; and never was a militia regiment more anxious to reduce +its strength. No power short of death could make these mad men +wear the uniform of their service. They would not fight, except +with their fellows, and it was for that reason the regiment had +not gone to war, but stayed in a stockade, reasoning with the new +troops. The autumn campaign had been a fiasco, but here were the +Englishmen. All the regiment marched back to guard them, and the +hairy enemy, armed with blow-pipes, rejoiced in the forest. Five +of the crew had died, but there lined up on the Governor's verandah +two-and-twenty men marked about the legs with the scars of +leech-bites. A few of them wore fringes that had once been trousers; +the others used loin-cloths of gay patterns; and they existed +beautifully but simply in the Governor's verandah, and when he came +out they sang at him. When you have lost seventy thousand pounds' +worth of pearls, your pay, your ship, and all your clothes, and have +lived in bondage for five months beyond the faintest pretences of +civilisation, you know what true independence means, for you become +the happiest of created things - natural man. + +The Governor told the crew that they were evil, and they asked for +food. When he saw how they ate, and when he remembered that none of +the pearl patrol-boats were expected for two months, he sighed. But +the crew of the Haliotis lay down in the verandah, and said that +they were pensioners of the Governor's bounty. A grey-bearded man, +fat and bald-headed, his one garment a green-and-yellow loin-cloth, +saw the Haliotis in the harbour, and bellowed for joy. The men +crowded to the verandah-rail, kicking aside the long cane chairs. +They pointed, gesticulated, and argued freely, without shame. The +militia regiment sat down in the Governor's garden. The Governor +retired to his hammock - it was as easy to be killed lying as +standing - and his women squeaked from the shuttered rooms. + +"She sold?" said the grey-bearded man, pointing to the Haliotis. +He was Mr. Wardrop. + +"No good," said the Governor, shaking his head. "No one come buy." + +"He's taken my lamps, though," said the skipper. He wore one leg +of a pair of trousers, and his eye wandered along the verandah. +The Governor quailed. There were cuddy camp-stools and the skipper's +writing-table in plain sight. + +"They've cleaned her out, o' course," said Mr. Wardrop. "They +would. We'll go aboard and take an inventory. See!" He waved his +hands over the harbour. "We - live - there - now. Sorry?" + +The Governor smiled a smile of relief. + +"He's glad of that," said one of the crew, reflectively. "I +shouldn't wonder." + +They flocked down to the harbour-front, the militia regiment +clattering behind, and embarked themselves in what they found - +it happened to be the Governor's boat. Then they disappeared over +the bulwarks of the Haliotis, and the Governor prayed that they +might find occupation inside. + +Mr. Wardrop's first bound took him to the engine-room; and when +the others were patting the well-remembered decks, they heard him +giving God thanks that things were as he had left them. The +wrecked engines stood over his head untouched; no inexpert hand +had meddled with his shores; the steel wedges of the store-room +were rusted home; and, best of all, the hundred and sixty tons of +good Australian coal in the bunkers had not diminished. + +"I don't understand it," said Mr. Wardrop. "Any Malay knows the +use o' copper. They ought to have cut away the pipes. And with +Chinese junks coming here, too. It's a special interposition o' +Providence." + +"You think so," said the skipper, from above. "There's only been +one thief here, and he's cleaned her out of all my things, anyhow." + +Here the skipper spoke less than the truth, for under the planking +of his cabin, only to be reached by a chisel, lay a little money +which never drew any interest - his sheet-anchor to windward. It +was all in clean sovereigns that pass current the world over, and +might have amounted to more than a hundred pounds. + +"He's left me alone. Let's thank God," repeated Mr. Wardrop. + +"He's taken everything else; look!" + +The Haliotis, except as to her engine-room, had been systematically +and scientifically gutted from one end to the other, and there was +strong evidence that an unclean guard had camped in the skipper's +cabin to regulate that plunder. She lacked glass, plate, crockery, +cutlery, mattresses, cuddy carpets and chairs, all boats, and her +copper ventilators. These things had been removed, with her sails +and as much of the wire rigging as would not imperil the safety of +the masts. + +"He must have sold those," said the skipper. "The other things are +in his house, I suppose." + +Every fitting that could be pried or screwed out was gone. Port, +starboard, and masthead lights; teak gratings; sliding sashes of +the deckhouse; the captain's chest of drawers, with charts and +chart-table; photographs, brackets, and looking-glasses; cabin +doors; rubber cuddy mats; hatch-irons; half the funnel-stays; +cork fenders; carpenter's grindstone and tool-chest; holystones, +swabs, squeegees; all cabin and pantry lamps; galley-fittings en +bloc; flags and flag-locker; clocks, chronometers; the forward +compass and the ship's bell and belfry, were among the missing. + +There were great scarred marks on the deck-planking over which +the cargo-derricks had been hauled. One must have fallen by the +way, for the bulwark-rails were smashed and bent and the +side-plates bruised. + +"It's the Governor," said the skipper "He's been selling her on +the instalment plan." + +"Let's go up with spanners and shovels, and kill 'em all," shouted +the crew. "Let's drown him, and keep the woman!" + +"Then we'll be shot by that black-and-tan regiment - our regiment. +What's the trouble ashore? They've camped our regiment on the beach." + +"We're cut off; that's all. Go and see what they want," said Mr. +Wardrop. "You've the trousers." + +In his simple way the Governor was a strategist. He did not desire +that the crew of the Haliotis should come ashore again, either +singly or in detachments, and he proposed to turn their steamer into +a convict-hulk. They would wait - he explained this from the quay +to the skipper in the barge - and they would continue to wait till +the man-of-war came along, exactly where they were. If one of them +set foot ashore, the entire regiment would open fire, and he would +not scruple to use the two cannon of the town. Meantime food would +be sent daily in a boat under an armed escort. The skipper, bare +to the waist, and rowing, could only grind his teeth; and the +Governor improved the occasion, and revenged himself for the bitter +words in the cables, by saying what he thought of the morals and +manners of the crew. The barge returned to the Haliotis in silence, +and the skipper climbed aboard, white on the cheek-bones and blue +about the nostrils. + +"I knew it," said Mr. Wardrop; "and they won't give us good food, +either. We shall have bananas morning, noon, and night, an' a man +can't work on fruit. We know that." + +Then the skipper cursed Mr. Wardrop for importing frivolous +side-issues into the conversation; and the crew cursed one another, +and the Haliotis, the voyage, and all that they knew or could bring +to mind. They sat down in silence on the empty decks, and their +eyes burned in their heads. The green harbour water chuckled at +them overside. They looked at the palm-fringed hills inland, at +the white houses above the harbour road, at the single tier of +native craft by the quay, at the stolid soldiery sitting round the +two cannon, and, last of all, at the blue bar of the horizon. Mr. +Wardrop was buried in thought, and scratched imaginary lines with +his untrimmed finger-nails on the planking. + +"I make no promise," he said, at last, "for I can't say what may +or may not have happened to them. But here's the ship, and here's +us." + +There was a little scornful laughter at this, and Mr. Wardrop +knitted his brows. He recalled that in the days when be wore +trousers he had been Chief Engineer of the Haliotis. + +"Harland, Mackesy, Noble, Hay, Naughton, Fink, O'Hara, Trumbull." + +"Here, sir!" The instinct of obedience waked to answer the +roll-call of the engine-room. + +"Below!" + +They rose and went. + +"Captain, I'll trouble you for the rest of the men as I want them. +We'll get my stores out, and clear away the shores we don't need, +and then we'll patch her up. My men will remember that they're in +the Haliotis, - under me." + +He went into the engine-room, and the others stared. They were +used to the accidents of the sea, but this was beyond their +experience. None who had seen the engine-room believed that +anything short of new engines from end to end could stir the +Haliotis from her moorings. + +The engine-room stores were unearthed, and Mr. Wardrop's face, red +with the filth of the bilges and the exertion of travelling on his +stomach, lit with joy. The spare gear of the Haliotis had been +unusually complete, and two-and-twenty men, armed with screw-jacks, +differential blocks, tackle, vices, and a forge or so, can look +Kismet between the eyes without winking. The crew were ordered to +replace the holding-down and shaft-bearing bolts, and return the +collars of the thrust-block. When they had finished, Mr. Wardrop +delivered a lecture on repairing compound engines without the aid +of the shops, and the men sat about on the cold machinery. The +cross-head jammed in the guides leered at them drunkenly, but +offered no help. They ran their fingers hopelessly into the cracks +of the starboard supporting-column, and picked at the ends of the +ropes round the shores, while Mr. Wardrop's voice rose and fell +echoing, till the quick tropic night closed down over the +engine-room skylight. + +Next morning the work of reconstruction began. It has been +explained that the foot of the connecting-rod was forced against +the foot of the starboard supporting-column, which it had cracked +through and driven outward towards the ship's skin. To all +appearance the job was more than hopeless, for rod and column +seemed to have been welded into one. But herein Providence +smiled on them for one moment to hearten them through the weary +weeks ahead. The second engineer - more reckless than resourceful +- struck at random with a cold chisel into the cast-iron of the +column, and a greasy, grey flake of metal flew from under the +imprisoned foot of the connecting-rod, while the rod itself fell +away slowly, and brought up with a thunderous clang somewhere in +the dark of the crank-pit. The guides-plates above were still +jammed fast in the guides, but the first blow had been struck. +They spent the rest of the day grooming the donkey-engine, which +stood immediately forward of the engine-room hatch. Its tarpaulin, +of course, had been stolen, and eight warm months had not improved +the working parts. Further, the last dying hiccup of the Haliotis +seemed - or it might have been the Malay from the boat-house - to +have lifted the thing bodily on its bolts, and set it down +inaccurately as regarded its steam connections. + +"If we only had one single cargo-derrick!" Mr. Wardrop sighed. "We +can take the cylinder-cover off by hand, if we sweat; but to get +the rod out o' the piston's not possible unless we use steam. Well, +there'll be steam the morn, if there's nothing else. She'll fizzle!" + +Next morning men from the shore saw the Haliotis through a cloud, +for it was as though the deck smoked. Her crew were chasing steam +through the shaken and leaky pipes to its work in the forward +donkey-engine; and where oakum failed to plug a crack, they stripped +off their loin-cloths for lapping, and swore, half-boiled and +mother-naked. The donkey-engine worked - at a price - the price of +constant attention and furious stoking - worked long enough to allow +a wire-rope (it was made up of a funnel and a foremast-stay) to be +led into the engine-room and made fast on the cylinder-cover of the +forward engine. That rose easily enough, and was hauled through the +skylight and on to the deck, many hands assisting the doubtful steam. +Then came the tug of war, for it was necessary to get to the piston +and the jammed piston-rod. They removed two of the piston junk-ring +studs, screwed in two strong iron eye-bolts by way of handles, +doubled the wire-rope, and set half a dozen men to smite with an +extemporised battering-ram at the end of the piston-rod, where it +peered through the piston, while the donkey-engine hauled upwards +on the piston itself. After four hours of this furious work, the +piston-rod suddenly slipped, and the piston rose with a jerk, +knocking one or two men over into the engine-room. But when Mr. +Wardrop declared that the piston had not split, they cheered, and +thought nothing of their wounds; and the donkey-engine was hastily +stopped; its boiler was nothing to tamper with. + +And day by day their supplies reached them by boat. The skipper +humbled himself once more before the Governor, and as a concession +had leave to get drinking-water from the Malay boat-builder on the +quay. It was not good drinking-water, but the Malay was anxious +to supply anything in his power, if he were paid for it. + +Now when the jaws of the forward engine stood, as it were, stripped +and empty, they began to wedge up the shores of the cylinder itself. +That work alone filled the better part of three days - warm and +sticky days, when the hands slipped and sweat ran into the eyes. +When the last wedge was hammered home there was no longer an ounce +of weight on the supporting-columns; and Mr. Wardrop rummaged the +ship for boiler-plate three-quarters of an inch thick, where he +could find it. There was not much available, but what there was +was more than beaten gold to him. In one desperate forenoon the +entire crew, naked and lean, haled back, more or less into place, +the starboard supporting-column, which, as you remember, was cracked +clean through. Mr. Wardrop found them asleep where they had +finished the work, and gave them a day's rest, smiling upon them +as a father while he drew chalk-marks about the cracks. They woke +to new and more trying labour; for over each one of those cracks a +plate of three-quarter-inch boiler-iron was to be worked hot, the +rivet-holes being drilled by hand. All that time they were fed on +fruits, chiefly bananas, with some sago. + +Those were the days when men swooned over the ratchet-drill and the +hand-forge, and where they fell they had leave to lie unless their +bodies were in the way of their fellows' feet. And so, patch upon +patch, and a patch over all, the starboard supporting-column was +clouted; but when they thought all was secure, Mr. Wardrop decreed +that the noble patchwork would never support working engines; at +the best, it could only hold the guide-bars approximately true. +he deadweight of the cylinders must be borne by vertical struts; +and, therefore, a gang would repair to the bows, and take out, with +files, the big bow-anchor davits, each of which was some three +inches in diameter. They threw hot coals at Wardrop, and threatened +to kill him, those who did not weep (they were ready to weep on the +least provocation); but he hit them with iron bars heated at the +end, and they limped forward, and the davits came with them when +they returned. They slept sixteen hours on the strength of it, and +in three days two struts were in place, bolted from the foot of +the starboard supporting-column to the under side of the cylinder. +There remained now the port, or condenser-column, which, though not +so badly cracked as its fellow, had also been strengthened in four +places with boiler-plate patches, but needed struts. They took +away the main stanchions of the bridge for that work, and, crazy +with toil, did not see till all was in place that the rounded +bars of iron must be flattened from top to bottom to allow the +air-pump levers to clear them. It was Wardrop's oversight, and he +wept bitterly before the men as he gave the order to unbolt the +struts and flatten them with hammer and the flame. Now the broken +engine was underpinned firmly, and they took away the wooden +shores from under the cylinders, and gave them to the robbed +bridge, thanking God for even half a day's work on gentle, kindly +wood instead of the iron that had entered into their souls. Eight +months in the back-country among the leeches, at a temperature of +84 degrees moist, is very bad for the nerves. + +They had kept the hardest work to the last, as boys save Latin +prose, and, worn though they were, Mr. Wardrop did not dare to +give them rest. The piston-rod and connecting-rod were to be +straightened, and this was a job for a regular dockyard with every +appliance. They fell to it, cheered by a little chalk showing of +work done and time consumed which Mr. Wardrop wrote up on the +engine-room bulkhead. Fifteen days had gone - fifteen days of +killing labour - and there was hope before them. + +It is curious that no man knows how the rods were straightened. +The crew of the Haliotis remember that week very dimly, as a +fever patient remembers the delirium of a long night. There were +fires everywhere, they say; the whole ship was one consuming +furnace, and the hammers were never still. Now, there could not +have been more than one fire at the most, for Mr. Wardrop +distinctly recalls that no straightening was done except under +his own eye. They remember, too, that for many years voices gave +orders which they obeyed with their bodies, but their minds were +abroad on all the seas. It seems to them that they stood through +days and nights slowly sliding a bar backwards and forwards +through a white glow that was part of the ship. They remember an +intolerable noise in their burning heads from the walls of the +stoke-hole, and they remember being savagely beaten by men whose +eyes seemed asleep. When their shift was over they would draw +straight lines in the air, anxiously and repeatedly, and would +question one another in their sleep, crying, "Is she straight?" + +At last - they do not remember whether this was by day or by +night - Mr. Wardrop began to dance clumsily, and wept the while; +and they too danced and wept, and went to sleep twitching all +over; and when they woke, men said that the rods were straightened, +and no one did any work for two days, but lay on the decks and ate +fruit. Mr. Wardrop would go below from time to time, and pat the +two rods where they lay, and they heard him singing hymns. + +Then his trouble of mind went from him, and at the end of the third +day's idleness he made a drawing in chalk upon the deck, with +letters of the alphabet at the angles. He pointed out that, though +the piston-rod was more or less straight, the piston-rod cross-head + - the thing that had been jammed sideways in the guides - had been +badly strained, and had cracked the lower end of the piston-rod. +He was going to forge and shrink a wrought-iron collar on the neck +of the piston-rod where it joined the cross-head, and from the +collar he would bolt a Y-shaped piece of iron whose lower arms +should be bolted into the cross-head. If anything more were needed, +they could use up the last of the boiler-plate. + +So the forges were lit again, and men burned their bodies, but +hardly felt the pain. The finished connection was not beautiful, +but it seemed strong enough - at least, as strong as the rest of +the machinery; and with that job their labours came to an end. +All that remained was to connect up the engines, and to get food +and water. The skipper and four men dealt with the Malay +boat-builder by night chiefly; it was no time to haggle over the +price of sago and dried fish. The others stayed aboard and +replaced piston, piston-rod, cylinder-cover, cross-head, and bolts, +with the aid of the faithful donkey-engine. The cylinder-cover +was hardly steam-proof, and the eye of science might have seen in +the connecting-rod a flexure something like that of a +Christmas-tree candle which has melted and been straightened by +hand over a stove, but, as Mr. Wardrop said, "She didn't hit +anything." + +As soon as the last bolt was in place, men tumbled over one +another in their anxiety to get to the hand starting-gear, the +wheel and worm, by which some engines can be moved when there is +no steam aboard. They nearly wrenched off the wheel, but it was +evident to the blindest eye that the engines stirred. They did +not revolve in their orbits with any enthusiasm, as good machines +should; indeed, they groaned not a little; but they moved over +and came to rest in a way which proved that they still recognised +man's hand. Then Mr. Wardrop sent his slaves into the darker +bowels of the engine-room and the stoke-hole, and followed them +with a flare-lamp. The boilers were sound, but would take no harm +from a little scaling and cleaning. Mr. Wardrop would not have +any one over-zealous, for he feared what the next stroke of the +tool might show. "The less we know about her now," said he, "the +better for us all, I'm thinkin'. Ye'll understand me when I say +that this is in no sense regular engineerin'." + +As his raiment, when he spoke, was his grey beard and uncut hair, +they believed him. They did not ask too much of what they met, +but polished and tallowed and scraped it to a false brilliancy. + +"A lick of paint would make me easier in my mind," said Mr. +Wardrop, plaintively. "I know half the condenser-tubes are +started; and the propeller-shaftin''s God knows how far out of +the true, and we'll need a new air-pump, an' the main-steam +leaks like a sieve, and there's worse each way I look; but - +paint's like clothes to a man, 'an ours is near all gone." + +The skipper unearthed some stale ropy paint of the loathsome +green that they used for the galleys of sailing-ships, and Mr. +Wardrop spread it abroad lavishly to give the engines +self-respect. + +His own was returning day by day, for he wore his loin-cloth +continuously; but the crew, having worked under orders, did not +feel as he did. The completed work satisfied Mr. Wardrop. He +would at the last have made shift to run to Singapore, and gone +home without vengeance taken to show his engines to his brethren +in the craft; but the others and the captain forbade him. They +had not yet recovered their self-respect. + +"It would be safer to make what ye might call a trial trip, but +beggars mustn't be choosers; an if the engines will go over to the +hand-gear, the probability - I'm only saying it's a probability - +the chance is that they'll hold up when we put steam on her." + +"How long will you take to get steam?" said the skipper. + +"God knows! Four hours - a day - half a week. If I can raise +sixty pound I'll not complain." + +"Be sure of her first; we can't afford to go out half a mile, and +break down." + +"My soul and body, man, we're one continuous breakdown, fore an' +aft! We might fetch Singapore, though." + +"We'll break down at Pygang-Watai, where we can do good," was the +answer, in a voice that did not allow argument. "She's my boat, +and - I've had eight months to think in." + +No man saw the Haliotis depart, though many heard her. She left +at two in the morning, having cut her moorings, and it was none +of her crew's pleasure that the engines should strike up a +thundering half-seas-over chanty that echoed among the hills. +Mr. Wardrop wiped away a tear as he listened to the new song. + +"She's gibberin' - she's just gibberin'," he whimpered. "Yon's +the voice of a maniac. + +And if engines have any soul, as their masters believe, he was +quite right. There were outcries and clamours, sobs and bursts of +chattering laughter, silences where the trained ear yearned for the +clear note, and torturing reduplications where there should have +been one deep voice. Down the screw-shaft ran murmurs and warnings, +while a heart-diseased flutter without told that the propeller +needed re-keying. + +"How does she make it?" said the skipper. + +"She moves, but - but she's breakin' my heart. The sooner we're +at Pygang-Watai, the better. She's mad, and we're waking the town." + +"Is she at all near safe?" + +"What do I care how safe she is? She's mad. Hear that, now! To +be sure, nothing's hittin' anything, and the bearin's are fairly +cool, but - can ye not hear?" + +"If she goes," said the skipper, "I don't care a curse. And she's +my boat, too." + +She went, trailing a fathom of weed behind her. From a slow two +knots an hour she crawled up to a triumphant four. Anything +beyond that made the struts quiver dangerously, and filled the +engine-room with steam. Morning showed her out of sight of land, +and there was a visible ripple under her bows; but she complained +bitterly in her bowels, and, as though the noise had called it, +there shot along across the purple sea a swift, dark proa, +hawk-like and curious, which presently ranged alongside and wished +to know if the Haliotis were helpless. Ships, even the steamers +of the white men, had been known to break down in those waters, +and the honest Malay and Javanese traders would sometimes aid them +in their own peculiar way. But this ship was not full of lady +passengers and well-dressed officers. Men, white, naked and savage, +swarmed down her sides - some with red-hot iron bars, and others +with large hammers - threw themselves upon those innocent inquiring +strangers, and, before any man could say what had happened, were +in full possession of the proa, while the lawful owners bobbed in +the water overside. Half an hour later the proa's cargo of sago +and trepang, as well as a doubtful-minded compass, was in the +Haliotis. The two huge triangular mat sails, with their +seventy-foot yards and booms, had followed the cargo, and were +being fitted to the stripped masts of the steamer. + +They rose, they swelled, they filled, and the empty steamer visibly +laid over as the wind took them. They gave her nearly three knots +an hour, and what better could men ask? But if she had been forlorn +before, this new purchase made her horrible to see. Imagine a +respectable charwoman in the tights of a ballet-dancer rolling drunk +along the streets, and you will come to some faint notion of the +appearance of that nine-hundred-ton, well-decked, once schooner-rigged +cargo-boat as she staggered under her new help, shouting and raving +across the deep. With steam and sail that marvellous voyage +continued; and the bright-eyed crew looked over the rail, desolate, +unkempt, unshorn, shamelessly clothed beyond the decencies. + +At the end of the third week she sighted the island of Pygang-Watai, +whose harbour is the turning-point of a pearl sea-patrol. Here the +gun-boats stay for a week ere they retrace their line. There is no +village at Pygang-Watai; only a stream of water, some palms, and a +harbour safe to rest in till the first violence of the southeast +monsoon has blown itself out. + +They opened up the low coral beach, with its mound of whitewashed +coal ready for supply, the deserted huts for the sailors, and the +flagless flagstaff. + +Next day there was no Haliotis - only a little proa rocking in +the warm rain at the mouth of the harbour, whose crew watched +with hungry eyes the smoke of a gunboat on the horizon. + +Months afterwards there were a few lines in an English newspaper +to the effect that some gunboat of some foreign Power had broken +her back at the mouth of some far-away harbour by running at full +speed into a sunken wreck. + + + + +WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR + +PART I + + + I have done one braver thing + Than all the worthies did; + And yet a braver thence doth spring, + Which is to keep that hid. + + The Undertaking. + +"Is it officially declared yet?" + +They've gone as far as to admit 'extreme local scarcity,' and they've +started relief-works in one or two districts, the paper says." + +"That means it will be declared as soon as they can make sure of the +men and the rolling-stock. 'Shouldn't wonder if it were as bad as +the '78 Famine." + +"'Can't be," said Scott, turning a little in the long cane chair. + +"We've had fifteen-anna crops in the north, and Bombay and Bengal +report more than they know what to do with. They'll be able to +check it before it gets out of hand. It will only be local." + +Martyn picked the "Pioneer" from the table, read through the +telegrams once more, and put up his feet on the chair-rests. It +was a hot, dark, breathless evening, heavy with the smell of the +newly watered Mall. The flowers in the Club gardens were dead and +black on their stalks, the little lotus-pond was a circle of caked +mud, and the tamarisk-trees were white with the dust of weeks. +Most of the men were at the band-stand in the public gardens - from +the Club verandah you could hear the native Police band hammering +stale waltzes - or on the polo-ground, or in the high-walled +fives-court, hotter than a Dutch oven. Half a dozen grooms, +squatted at the heads of their ponies, waited their masters' return. +>From time to time a man would ride at a foot-pace into the Club +compound, and listlessly loaf over to the whitewashed barracks +beside the main building. These were supposed to be chambers. Men +lived in them, meeting the same white faces night after night at +dinner, and drawing out their office-work till the latest possible +hour, that they might escape that doleful company. + +"What are you going to do?." said Martyn, with a yawn. "Let's +have a swim before dinner." + +"'Water's hot. I was at the bath to-day." + +"Play you game o' billiards - fifty up." + +"It's a hundred and five in the hall now. Sit still and don't be +so abominably energetic." + +A grunting camel swung up to the porch, his badged and belted +rider fumbling a leather pouch. + +"Kubber-kargaz-ki-yektraaa," the man whined, handing down the +newspaper extra - a slip printed on one side only, and damp from +the press. It was pinned up on the green-baize board, between +notices of ponies for sale and fox-terriers missing. + +Martyn rose lazily, read it, and whistled. "It's declared!" he +cried. "One, two, three - eight districts go under the operations +of the Famine Code ek dum. They've put Jimmy Hawkins in charge." + +"Good business!" said Scott, with the first sign of interest he +had shown. "When in doubt hire a Punjabi. I worked under Jimmy +when I first came out and he belonged to the Punjab. He has more +bundobust than most men." + +"Jimmy's a Jubilee Knight now," said Martyn. "He's a good chap, +even though he is a thrice-born civilian and went to the +Benighted Presidency. What unholy names these Madras districts +rejoice in - all ungas or rungas or pillays or polliums!" + +A dog-cart drove up in the dusk, and a man entered, mopping his +head. He was editor of the one daily paper at the capital of a +Province of twenty-five million natives and a few hundred white +men: as his staff was limited to himself and one assistant, his +office-hours ran variously from ten to twenty a day. + +"Hi, Raines; you're supposed to know everything," said Martyn, +stopping him. "How's this Madras 'scarcity' going to turn out?" + +"No one knows as yet. There's a message as long as your arm coming +in on the telephone. I've left my cub to fill it out. Madras has +owned she can't manage it alone, and Jimmy seems to have a free +hand in getting all the men he needs. Arbuthnot's warned to hold +himself in readiness." + +"'Badger' Arbuthnot?" + +"The Peshawur chap. Yes: and the Pi wires that Ellis and Clay +have been moved from the Northwest already, and they've taken +half a dozen Bombay men, too. It's pukka famine, by the looks +of it." + +"They're nearer the scene of action than we are; but if it comes +to indenting on the Punjab this early, there's more in this than +meets the eye," said Martyn. + +"Here to-day and gone to-morrow. 'Didn't come to stay for ever," +said Scott, dropping one of Marryat's novels, and rising to his +feet. "Martyn, your sister's waiting for you." + +A rough grey horse was backing and shifting at the edge of the +verandah, where the light of a kerosene lamp fell on a brown-calico +habit and a white face under a grey-felt hat. + +"Right, O!" said Martyn. "I'm ready. Better come and dine with +us, if you've nothing to do, Scott. William, is there any dinner +in the house?" + +"I'll go home and see," was the rider's answer. "You can drive +him over - at eight, remember." + +Scott moved leisurely to his room, and changed into the evening-dress +of the season and the country: spotless white linen from head to +foot, with a broad silk cummerbund. Dinner at the Martyns' was a +decided improvement on the goat-mutton, twiney-tough fowl, and +tinned entrees of the Club. But it was a great pity that Martyn +could not afford to send his sister to the hills for the hot weather. +As an Acting District Superintendent of Police, Martyn drew the +magnificent pay of six hundred depreciated silver rupees a month, +and his little four-roomed bungalow said just as much. There were +the usual blue-and-white-striped jail-made rugs on the uneven floor; +the usual glass-studded Amritsar phulkaris draped on nails driven +into the flaking whitewash of the walls; the usual half-dozen chairs +that did not match, picked up at sales of dead men's effects; and +the usual streaks of black grease where the leather punka-thong ran +through the wall. It was as though everything had been unpacked +the night before to be repacked next morning. Not a door in the +house was true on its hinges. The little windows, fifteen feet up, +were darkened with wasp-nests, and lizards hunted flies between the +beams of the wood-ceiled roof. But all this was part of Scott's +life. Thus did people live who had such an income; and in a land +where each man's pay, age, and position are printed in a book, that +all may read, it is hardly worth while to play at pretence in word +or deed. Scott counted eight years' service in the Irrigation +Department, and drew eight hundred rupees a month, on the +understanding that if he served the State faithfully for another +twenty-two years he could retire on a pension of some four hundred +rupees a month. His working-life, which had been spent chiefly +under canvas or in temporary shelters where a man could sleep, eat, +and write letters, was bound up with the opening and guarding of +irrigation canals, the handling of two or three thousand workmen of +all castes and creeds, and the payment of vast sums of coined silver. + +He had finished that spring, not without credit, the last section +of the great Mosuhl Canal, and - much against his will, for he +hated office-work - had been sent in to serve during the hot +weather on the accounts and supply side of the Department, with +sole charge of the sweltering sub-office at the capital of the +Province. Martyn knew this; William, his sister, knew it; and +everybody knew it. Scott knew, too, as well as the rest of the +world, that Miss Martyn had come out to India four years ago to +keep house for her brother, who, as every one knew, had borrowed +the money to pay for her passage, and that she ought, as all the +world said, to have married at once. In stead of this, she had +refused some half a dozen subalterns, a Civilian twenty years her +senior, one Major, and a man in the Indian Medical Department. +This, too, was common property. She had "stayed down three hot +weathers," as the saying is, because her brother was in debt and +could not afford the expense of her keep at even a cheap +hill-station. Therefore her face was white as bone, and in the +centre of her forehead was a big silvery scar about the size of a +shilling - the mark of a Delhi sore, which is the same as a +"Bagdad date." This comes from drinking bad water, and slowly +eats into the flesh till it is ripe enough to be burned out. + +None the less William had enjoyed herself hugely in her four years. +Twice she had been nearly drowned while fording a river; once she +had been run away with on a camel; had witnessed a midnight attack +of thieves on her brother's camp; had seen justice administered, +with long sticks, in the open under trees; could speak Urdu and +even rough Punjabi with a fluency that was envied by her seniors; +had entirely fallen out of the habit of writing to her aunts in +England, or cutting the pages of the English magazines; had been +through a very bad cholera year, seeing sights unfit to be told; +and had wound up her experiences by six weeks of typhoid fever, +during which her head had been shaved and hoped to keep her +twenty-third birthday that September. It is conceivable that the +aunts would not have approved of a girl who never set foot on the +ground if a horse were within hail; who rode to dances with a shawl +thrown over her skirt; who wore her hair cropped and curling all +over her head; who answered indifferently to the name of William +or Bill; whose speech was heavy with the flowers of the vernacular; +who could act in amateur theatricals, play on the banjo, rule eight +servants and two horses, their accounts and their diseases, and +look men slowly and deliberately between the eyes - even after they +had proposed to her and been rejected. + +"I like men who do things," she had confided to a man in the +Educational Department, who was teaching the sons of cloth-merchants +and dyers the beauty of Wordsworth's "Excursion" in annotated +cram-books; and when he grew poetical, William explained that she +"didn't understand poetry very much; it made her head ache," and +another broken heart took refuge at the Club. But it was all +William's fault. She delighted in hearing men talk of their own +work, and that is the most fatal way of bringing a man to your feet. + +Scott had known her for some three years, meeting her, as a rule, +under canvass, when his camp and her brother's joined for a day +on the edge of the Indian Desert. He had danced with her several +times at the big Christmas gatherings, when as many as five hundred +white people came in to the station; and had always a great respect +for her housekeeping and her dinners. + +She looked more like a boy than ever when, the meal ended, she +sat, rolling cigarettes, her low forehead puckered beneath the +dark curls as she twiddled the papers and stuck out her rounded +chin when the tobacco stayed in place, or, with a gesture as +true as a school-boy's throwing a stone, tossed the finished +article across the room to Martyn, who caught it with one hand, +and continued his talk with Scott. It was all "shop," - canals +and the policing of canals; the sins of villagers who stole more +water than they had paid for, and the grosser sin of native +constables who connived at the thefts; of the transplanting +bodily of villages to newly irrigated ground, and of the coming +fight with the desert in the south when the Provincial funds +should warrant the opening of the long-surveyed Luni Protective +Canal System. And Scott spoke openly of his great desire to be +put on one particular section of the work where he knew the land +and the people; and Martyn sighed for a billet in the Himalayan +foot-hills, and said his mind of his superiors, and William +rolled cigarettes and said nothing, but smiled gravely on her +brother because he was happy. + +At ten Scott's horse came to the door, and the evening was ended. +The lights of the two low bungalows in which the daily paper was +printed showed bright across the road. It was too early to try +to find sleep, and Scott drifted over to the editor. Raines, +stripped to the waist like a sailor at a gun, lay half asleep in +a long chair, waiting for night telegrams. He had a theory that +if a man did not stay by his work all day and most of the night he +laid himself open to fever: so he ate and slept among his files. + +"Can you do it?" be said drowsily. "I didn't mean to bring you +over." + +"About what? I've been dining at the Martyns'." + +"The Madras famine, of course. Martyn's warned, too. They're +taking men where they can find 'em. I sent a note to you at the +Club just now, asking if you could do us a letter once a week from +the south - between two and three columns, say. Nothing sensational, +of course, but just plain facts about who is doing what, and so +forth. Our regular rates - ten rupees a column." + +"'Sorry, but it's out of my line," Scott answered, staring absently +at the map of India on the wall. "It's rough on Martyn - very. +'Wonder what he'll do with his sister? 'Wonder what the deuce +they'll do with me? I've no famine experience. This is the first +I've heard of it. Am I ordered?" + +"Oh, yes. Here's the wire. They'll put you on to relief-works," +Raines said, "with a horde of Madrassis dying like flies; one +native apothecary and half a pint of cholera-mixture among the +ten thousand of you. It comes of your being idle for the moment. +Every man who isn't doing two men's work seems to have been called +upon. Hawkins evidently believes in Punjabis. It's going to be +quite as bad as anything they have had in the last ten years." + +"It's all in the day's work, worse luck. I suppose I shall get my +orders officially some time to-morrow. I'm awfully glad I happened +to drop in. Better go and pack my kit now. Who relieves me here + - do you know?" + +Raines turned over a sheaf of telegrams. "McEuan," said he, "from +Murree." + +Scott chuckled. "He thought he was going to be cool all summer. +He'll be very sick about this. Well, no good talking. 'Night." + +Two hours later, Scott, with a clear conscience, laid himself +down to rest on a string cot in a bare room. Two worn bullock +trunks, a leather water-bottle, a tin ice-box, and his pet saddle +sewed up in sacking were piled at the door, and the Club secretary's +receipt for last month's bill was under his pillow. His orders +came next morning, and with them an unofficial telegram from Sir +James Hawkins; who was not in the habit of forgetting good men when +he had once met them, bidding him report himself with all speed at +some unpronounceable place fifteen hundred miles to the south, for +the famine was sore in the land, and white men were needed. + +A pink and fattish youth arrived in the red-hot noonday, whimpering +a little at fate and famines, which never allowed any one three +months' peace. He was Scott's successor - another cog in the +machinery, moved forward behind his fellow whose services, as the +official announcement ran, "were placed at the disposal of the +Madras Government for famine duty until further orders." Scott +handed over the funds in his charge, showed him the coolest corner +in the office, warned him against excess of zeal, and, as twilight +fell, departed from the Club in a hired carriage, with his faithful +body-servant, Faiz Ullah, and a mound of disordered baggage atop, +to catch the southern mail at the loopholed and bastioned +railway-station. The heat from the thick brick walls struck him +across the face as if it had been a hot towel; and he reflected that +there were at least five nights and four days of this travel before +him. Faiz Ullah, used to the chances of service, plunged into the +crowd on the stone platform, while Scott, a black cheroot between +his teeth, waited till his compartment should be set away. A dozen +native policemen, with their rifles and bundles, shouldered into +the press of Punjabi farmers, Sikh craftsmen, and greasy-locked +Afreedee pedlars, escorting with all pomp Martyn's uniform-case, +water-bottles, ice-box, and bedding-roll. They saw Faiz Ullah's +lifted hand, and steered for it. + +"My Sahib and your Sahib," said Faiz Ullah to Martyn's man, "will +travel together. Thou and I, O brother, will thus secure the +servants' places close by; and because of our masters' authority +none will dare to disturb us." + +When Faiz Ullah reported all things ready, Scott settled down at +full length, coatless and bootless, on the broad leather-covered +bunk. The heat under the iron-arched roof of the station might +have been anything over a hundred degrees. At the last moment +Martyn entered, dripping. + +"Don't swear," said Scott, lazily; "it's too late to change your +carriage; and we'll divide the ice." + +"What are you doing here?" said the police-man. + +"I'm lent to the Madras Government, same as you. By Jove, it's a +bender of a night! Are you taking any of your men down?" + +"A dozen. I suppose I shall have to superintend relief +distributions. 'Didn't know you were under orders too." + +"I didn't till after I left you last night. Raines had the news +first. My orders came this morning. McEuan relieved me at four, +and I got off at once. 'Shouldn't wonder if it wouldn't be a +good thing - this famine - if we come through it alive." + +"Jimmy ought to put you and me to work together," said Martyn; +and then, after a pause: "My sister's here." + +"Good business," said Scott, heartily. "Going to get off at Umballa, +I suppose, and go up to Simla. Who'll she stay with there?" + +"No-o; that's just the trouble of it. She's going down with me." + +Scott sat bolt upright under the oil-lamps as the train jolted +past Tarn-Taran. "What! You don't mean you couldn't afford -" + +"'Tain't that. I'd have scraped up the money somehow." + +"You might have come to me, to begin with," said Scott, stiffly; +"we aren't altogether strangers." + +"Well, you needn't be stuffy about it. I might, but - you don't +know my sister. I've been explaining and exhorting and all the +rest of it all day - lost my temper since seven this morning, +and haven't got it back yet - but she wouldn't hear of any +compromise. A woman's entitled to travel with her husband if she +wants to; and William says she's on the same footing. You see, +we've been together all our lives, more or less, since my people +died. It isn't as if she were an ordinary sister." + +"All the sisters I've ever heard of would have stayed where they +were well off." + +She's as clever as a man, confound - Martyn went on. "She broke +up the bungalow over my head while I was talking at her. 'Settled +the whole thing in three hours - servants, horses, and all. I +didn't get my orders till nine." + +"Jimmy Hawkins won't be pleased," said Scott "A famine's no place +for a woman." + +"Mrs. Jim - I mean Lady Jim's in camp with him. At any rate, she +says she will look after my sister. William wired down to her on +her own responsibility, asking if she could come, and knocked the +ground from under me by showing me her answer." + +Scott laughed aloud. "If she can do that she can take care of +herself, and Mrs. Jim won't let her run into any mischief. There +aren't many women, sisters or wives, who would walk into a famine +with their eyes open. It isn't as if she didn't know what these +things mean. She was through the Jalo cholera last year." + +The train stopped at Amritsar, and Scott went back to the ladies' +compartment, immediately behind their carriage. William, with a +cloth riding-cap on her curls, nodded affably. + +"Come in and have some tea," she said. "'Best thing in the world +for heat-apoplexy." + +"Do I look as if I were going to have heat-apoplexy?" + +"'Never can tell," said William, wisely. "It's always best to be +ready." + +She had arranged her compartment with the knowledge of an old +campaigner. A felt-covered water-bottle hung in the draught of +one of the shuttered windows; a tea-set of Russian china, packed +in a wadded basket, stood on the seat; and a travelling +spirit-lamp was clamped against the woodwork above it. + +William served them generously, in large cups, hot tea, which +saves the veins of the neck from swelling inopportunely on a hot +night. It was characteristic of the girl that, her plan of action +once settled, she asked for no comments on it. Life among men who +had a great deal of work to do, and very little time to do it in, +had taught her the wisdom of effacing, as well as of fending for, +herself. She did not by word or deed suggest that she would be +useful, comforting, or beautiful in their travels, but continued +about her business serenely: put the cups back without clatter when +tea was ended, and made cigarettes for her guests. + +"This time last night," said Scott, "we didn't expect - er - this +kind of thing, did we?" + +"I've learned to expect anything," said William. "You know, in +our service, we live at the end of the telegraph; but, of course, +this ought to be a good thing for us all, departmentally - if we +live." + +"It knocks us out of the running in our own Province," Scott +replied, with equal gravity. "I hoped to be put on the Luni +Protective Works this cold weather, but there's no saying how +long the famine may keep us." + +"Hardly beyond October, I should think," said Martyn. "It will be +ended, one way or the other, then." + +"And we've nearly a week of this," said William. "Sha'n't we be +dusty when it's over?" + +For a night and a day they knew their surroundings, and for a +night and a day, skirting the edge of the great Indian Desert on +a narrow-gauge railway, they remembered how in the days of their +apprenticeship they had come by that road from Bombay. Then the +languages in which the names of the stations were written changed, +and they launched south into a foreign land, where the very smells +were new. Many long and heavily laden grain-trains were in front +of them, and they could feel the hand of Jimmy Hawkins from far off. +They waited in extemporised sidings while processions of empty +trucks returned to the north, and were coupled on to slow, crawling +trains, and dropped at midnight, Heaven knew where; but it was +furiously hot, and they walked to and fro among sacks, and dogs +howled. Then they came to an India more strange to them than to +the untravelled Englishman - the flat, red India of palm-tree, +palmyra-palm, and rice - the India of the picture-books, of "Little +Harry and His Bearer" - all dead and dry in the baking heat. They +had left the incessant passenger-traffic of the north and west far +and far behind them. Here the people crawled to the side of the +train, holding their little ones in their arms; and a loaded truck +would be left behind, the men and women clustering round it like +ants by spilled honey. Once in the twilight they saw on a dusty +plain a regiment of little brown men, each bearing a body over his +shoulder; and when the train stopped to leave yet another truck, +they perceived that the burdens were not corpses, but only +foodless folk picked up beside dead oxen by a corps of Irregular +troops. Now they met more white men, here one and there two, whose +tents stood close to the line, and who came armed with written +authorities and angry words to cut off a truck. They were too busy +to do more than nod at Scott and Martyn, and stare curiously at +William, who could do nothing except make tea, and watch how her +men staved off the rush of wailing, walking skeletons, putting them +down three at a time in heaps, with their own hands uncoupling the +marked trucks, or taking receipts from the hollow-eyed, weary white +men, who spoke another argot than theirs. They ran out of ice, out +of soda-water, and out of tea; for they were six days and seven +nights on the road, and it seemed to them like seven times seven +years. + +At last, in a dry, hot dawn, in a land of death, lit by long red +fires of railway-sleepers, where they were burning the dead, they +came to their destination, and were met by Jim Hawkins, the Head of +the Famine, unshaven, unwashed, but cheery, and entirely in command +of affairs. + +Martyn, he decreed then and there, was to live on trains till +further orders; was to go back with empty trucks, filling them with +starving people as he found them, and dropping them at a famine-camp +on the edge of the Eight Districts. He would pick up supplies and +return, and his constables would guard the loaded grain-cars, also +picking up people, and would drop them at a camp a hundred miles +south. Scott - Hawkins was very glad to see Scott again - would +that same hour take charge of a convoy of bullock-carts, and would +go south, feeding as he went, to yet another famine-camp, where he +would leave his starving - there would he no lack of starving on the +route - and wait for orders by telegraph. Generally, Scott was in +all small things to act as he thought best. + +William bit her under lip. There was no one in the wide world like +her one brother, but Martyn's orders gave him no discretion. + +She came out on the platform, masked with dust from head to foot, +a horse-shoe wrinkle on her forehead, put here by much thinking +during the past week, but as self-possessed as ever. Mrs. Jim - +who should have been Lady Jim but that no one remembered the +title - took possession of her with a little gasp. + +"Oh, I'm so glad you're here," she almost sobbed. "You oughtn't +to, of course, but there - there isn't another woman in the +place, and we must help each other, you know; and we've all the +wretched people and the little babies they are selling." + +"I've seen some," said William. + +"Isn't it ghastly? I've bought twenty; they're in our camp; but +won't you have something to eat first? We've more than ten people +can do here; and I've got a horse for you. Oh, I'm so glad you've +come, dear. You're a Punjabi, too, you know." + +"Steady, Lizzie," said Hawkins, over his shoulder. "We'll look +after you, Miss Martyn. 'Sorry I can't ask you to breakfast, +Martyn. You'll have to eat as you go. Leave two of your men to +help Scott. These poor devils can't stand up to load carts. +Saunders" (this to the engine-driver, who was half asleep in the +cab), "back down and get those empties away. You've 'line clear' +to Anundrapillay; they'll give you orders north of that. Scott, +load up your carts from that B. P. P. truck, and be off as soon +as you can. The Eurasian in the pink shirt is your interpreter +and guide. You'll find an apothecary of sorts tied to the yoke of +the second wagon. He's been trying to bolt; you'll have to look +after him. Lizzie, drive Miss Martyn to camp, and tell them to +send the red horse down here for me." + +Scott, with Faiz Ullah and two policemen, was already busied with +the carts, backing them up to the truck and unbolting the sideboards +quietly, while the others pitched in the bags of millet and wheat. +Hawkins watched him for as long as it took to fill one cart. + +"That's a good man," he said. "If all goes well I shall work him +hard." This was Jim Hawkins's notion of the highest compliment one +human being could pay another. + +An hour later Scott was under way; the apothecary threatening him +with the penalties of the law for that he, a member of the +Subordinate Medical Department, had been coerced and bound against +his will and all laws governing the liberty of the subject; the +pink-shirted Eurasian begging leave to see his mother, who happened +to be dying some three miles away: "Only verree, verree short leave +of absence, and will presently return, sar -"; the two constables, +armed with staves, bringing up the rear; and Faiz Ullah, a +Mohammedan's contempt for all Hindoos and foreigners in every line +of his face, explaining to the drivers that though Scott Sahib was +a man to be feared on all fours, he, Faiz Ullah, was Authority +Itself. + +The procession creaked past Hawkins's camp - three stained tents +under a clump of dead trees, behind them the famine-shed, where +a crowd of hopeless ones tossed their arms around the cooking-kettles. + +"'Wish to Heaven William had kept out of it," said Scott to himself, +after a glance. "We'll have cholera, sure as a gun, when the Rains +break." + +But William seemed to have taken kindly to the operations of the +Famine Code, which, when famine is declared, supersede the workings +of the ordinary law. Scott saw her, the centre of a mob of weeping +women, in a calico riding-habit, and a blue-grey felt hat with a +gold puggaree. + +"I want fifty rupees, please. I forgot to ask Jack before he went +away. Can you lend it me? It's for condensed-milk for the babies," +said she. + +Scott took the money from his belt, and handed it over without a +word. "For goodness sake, take care of yourself," he said. + +"Oh, I shall be all right. We ought to get the milk in two days. +By the way, the orders are, I was to tell you, that you're to take +one of Sir Jim's horses. There's a grey Cabuli here that I thought +would be just your style, so I've said you'd take him. Was that +right?" + +"That's awfully good of you. We can't either of us talk much about +style, I am afraid." + +Scott was in a weather-stained drill shooting-kit, very white at +the seams and a little frayed at the wrists. William regarded him +thoughtfully, from his pith helmet to his greased ankle-boots. +"You look very nice, I think. Are you sure you've everything +you'll need - quinine, chlorodyne, and so on?" + +"'Think so," said Scott, patting three or four of his +shooting-pockets as he mounted and rode alongside his convoy. + +"Good-bye," he cried. + +"Good-bye, and good luck," said William. "I'm awfully obliged for +the money." She turned on a spurred heel and disappeared into the +tent, while the carts pushed on past the famine-sheds, past the +roaring lines of the thick, fat fires, down to the baked Gehenna +of the South. + + + +PART II + + So let us melt and make no noise, + No tear-floods nor sigh-tempests move; + 'Twere profanation of our joys + To tell the Laity our love. + + A Valediction. + +It was punishing work, even though he travelled by night and camped +by day; but within the limits of his vision there was no man whom +Scott could call master. He was as free as Jimmy Hawkins - freer, +in fact, for the Government held the Head of the Famine tied neatly +to a telegraph-wire, and if Jimmy had ever regarded telegrams +seriously, the death-rate of that famine would have been much higher +than it was. + +At the end of a few days' crawling Scott learned something of the +size of the India which he served, and it astonished him. His +carts, as you know, were loaded with wheat, millet, and barley, +good food-grains needing only a little grinding. But the people +to whom he brought the life-giving stuffs were rice-eaters. They +could hull rice in their mortars, but they knew nothing of the +heavy stone querns of the North, and less of the material that +the white man convoyed so laboriously. They clamoured for rice - +unhusked paddy, such as they were accustomed to - and, when they +found that there was none, broke away weeping from the sides of +the cart. What was the use of these strange hard grains that +choked their throats? They would die. And then and there very +many of them kept their word. Others took their allowance, and +bartered enough millet to feed a man through a week for a few +handfuls of rotten rice saved by some less unfortunate. A few put +their share into the rice-mortars, pounded it, and made a paste +with foul water; but they were very few. Scott understood dimly +that many people in the India of the South ate rice, as a rule, +but he had spent his service in a grain Province, had seldom seen +rice in the blade or ear, and least of all would have believed +that in time of deadly need men could die at arm's length of +plenty, sooner than touch food they did not know. In vain the +interpreters interpreted; in vain his two policemen showed in +vigorous pantomime what should be done. The starving crept away +to their bark and weeds, grubs, leaves, and clay, and left the +open sacks untouched. But sometimes the women laid their phantoms +of children at Scott's feet, looking back as they staggered away. + +Faiz Ullah opined it was the will of God that these foreigners +should die, and it remained only to give orders to burn the dead. +None the less there was no reason why the Sahib should lack his +comforts, and Faiz Ullah, a campaigner of experience, had picked +up a few lean goats and had added them to the procession. That +they might give milk for the morning meal, he was feeding them on +the good grain that these imbeciles rejected. "Yes," said Faiz +Ullah; "if the Sahib thought fit, a little milk might be given to +some of the babies"; but, as the Sahib well knew, babies were cheap, +and, for his own part, Faiz Ullah held that there was no Government +order as to babies. Scott spoke forcefully to Faiz Ullah and the +two policemen, and bade them capture goats where they could find +them. This they most joyfully did, for it was a recreation, and +many ownerless goats were driven in. Once fed, the poor brutes +were willing enough to follow the carts, and a few days' good food + - food such as human beings died for lack of - set them in milk +again. + +"But I am no goatherd," said Faiz Ullah. "It is against my izzat +[my honour]." + +"When we cross the Bias River again we will talk of izzat," Scott +replied. "Till that day thou and the policemen shall be sweepers +to the camp, if I give the order." + +"Thus, then, it is done," grunted Faiz Ullah, "if the Sahib will +have it so"; and he showed how a goat should be milked, while +Scott stood over him. + +"Now we will feed them," said Scott; "twice a day we will feed +them"; and he bowed his back to the milking, and took a horrible +cramp. + +When you have to keep connection unbroken between a restless +mother of kids and a baby who is at the point of death, you +suffer in all your system. But the babies were fed. Each morning +and evening Scott would solemnly lift them out one by one from +their nest of gunny-bags under the cart-tilts. There were always +many who could do no more than breathe, and the milk was dropped +into their toothless mouths drop by drop, with due pauses when +they choked. Each morning, too, the goats were fed; and since +they would straggle without a leader, and since the natives were +hirelings, Scott was forced to give up riding, and pace slowly at +the head of his flocks, accommodating his step to their weaknesses. +All this was sufficiently absurd, and he felt the absurdity keenly; +but at least he was saving life, and when the women saw that their +children did not die, they made shift to eat a little of the +strange foods, and crawled after the carts, blessing the master +of the goats. + +"Give the women something to live for," said Scott to himself, as +he sneezed in the dust of a hundred little feet, "and they'll +hang on somehow. This beats William's condensed-milk trick all to +pieces. I shall never live it down, though." + +He reached his destination very slowly, found that a rice-ship +had come in from Burmah, and that stores of paddy were available; +found also an overworked Englishman in charge of the shed, and, +loading the carts, set back to cover the ground he had already +passed. He left some of the children and half his goats at the +famine-shed. For this he was not thanked by the Englishman, who +had already more stray babies than he knew what to do with. +Scott's back was suppled to stooping now, and he went on with his +wayside ministrations in addition to distributing the paddy. More +babies and more goats were added unto him; but now some of the +babies wore rags, and beads round their wrists or necks. "That" +said the interpreter, as though Scott did not know, "signifies +that their mothers hope in eventual contingency to resume them +offeecially." + +The sooner, the better," said Scott; but at the same time he +marked, with the pride of ownership, how this or that little +Ramasawmy was putting on flesh like a bantam. As the paddy-carts +were emptied he headed for Hawkins's camp by the railway, timing +his arrival to fit in with the dinner-hour, for it was long since +he had eaten at a cloth. He had no desire to make any dramatic +entry, but an accident of the sunset ordered it that when he had +taken off his helmet to get the evening breeze, the low light +should fall across his forehead, and he could not see what was +before him; while one waiting at the tent door beheld with new +eyes a young man, beautiful as Paris, a god in a halo of golden +dust, walking slowly at the head of his flocks, while at his knee +ran small naked Cupids. But she laughed - William, in a +slate-coloured blouse, laughed consumedly till Scott, putting the +best face he could upon the matter, halted his armies and bade her +admire the kindergarten. It was an unseemly sight, but the +proprieties had been left ages ago, with the tea-party at Amritsar +Station, fifteen hundred miles to the north. + +"They are coming on nicely," said William. "We've only +five-and-twenty here now. The women are beginning to take them +away again." + +"Are you in charge of the babies, then?" + +"Yes - Mrs. Jim and I. We didn't think of goats, though. We've +been trying condensed-milk and water." + +"Any losses?" + +More than I care to think of;" said William, with a shudder. +"And you?" + +Scott said nothing. There had been many little burials along his +route - one cannot burn a dead baby - many mothers who had wept +when they did not find again the children they had trusted to the +care of the Government. + +Then Hawkins came out carrying a razor, at which Scott looked +hungrily, for he had a beard that he did not love. And when they +sat down to dinner in the tent he told his tale in few words, as +it might have been an official report. Mrs. Jim snuffled from +time to time, and Jim bowed his head judicially; but William's +grey eyes were on the clean-shaven face, and it was to her that +Scott seemed to appeal. + +"Good for the Pauper Province!" said William, her chin on her hand, +as she leaned forward among the wine~glasses. Her cheeks had +fallen in, and the scar on her forehead was more prominent than +ever, but the well-turned neck rose roundly as a column from the +ruffle of the blouse which was the accepted evening-dress in camp. + +"It was awfully absurd at times," said Scott. "You see, I didn't +know much about milking or babies. They'll chaff my head off, if +the tale goes up North." + +"Let 'em," said William, haughtily. "We've all done coolie-work +since we came. I know Jack has." This was to Hawkins's address, +and the big man smiled blandly. + +"Your brother's a highly efficient officer, William," said he, +"and I've done him the honour of treating him as he deserves. +Remember, I write the confidential reports." + +"Then you must say that William's worth her weight in gold," said +Mrs. Jim. "I don't know what we should have done without her. She +has been everything to us." She dropped her hand upon William's, +which was rough with much handling of reins, and William patted +it softly. Jim beamed on the company. Things were going well with +his world. Three of his more grossly incompetent men had died, +and their places had been filled by their betters. Every day +brought the Rains nearer. They had put out the famine in five of +the Eight Districts, and, after all, the death-rate had not been +too heavy - things considered. He looked Scott over carefully, as +an ogre looks over a man, and rejoiced in his thews and iron-hard +condition. + +"He's just the least bit in the world tucked up," said Jim to +himself, "but he can do two men's work yet." Then he was aware +that Mrs. Jim was telegraphing to him, and according to the +domestic code the message ran: "A clear case. Look at them!" + +He looked and listened. All that William was saying was: "What +can you expect of a country where they call a bhistee [a +water-carrier] a tunni-cutch?" and all that Scott answered was: +"I shall be glad to get back to the Club. Save me a dance at the +Christmas Ball, won't you?" + +"It's a far cry from here to the Lawrence Hall," said Jim. "Better +turn in early, Scott. It's paddy-carts to-morrow; you'll begin +loading at five." + +"Aren't you going to give Mr. Scott a single day's rest?" + +"'Wish I could, Lizzie, but I'm afraid I can't. As long as he can +stand up we must use him." + +"Well, I've had one Europe evening, at least. By Jove, I'd nearly +forgotten! What do I do about those babies of mine?" + +"Leave them here," said William -" we are in charge of that - and +as many goats as you can spare. I must learn how to milk now." + +"If you care to get up early enough to-morrow I'll show you. I +have to milk, you see. Half of 'em have beads and things round +their necks. You must be careful not to take 'em off; in case the +mothers turn up." + +"You forget I've had some experience here." + +"I hope to goodness you won't overdo." Scott's voice was +unguarded. + +"I'll take care of her," said Mrs. Jim, telegraphing hundred-word +messages as she carried William off; while Jim gave Scott his +orders for the coming campaign. It was very late - nearly nine +o'clock. + +"Jim, you're a brute," said his wife, that night; and the Head of +the Famine chuckled. + +"Not a bit of it, dear. I remember doing the first Jandiala +Settlement for the sake of a girl in a crinoline, and she was +slender, Lizzie. I've never done as good a piece of work since. +He'll work like a demon." + +"But you might have given him one day." + +"And let things come to a head now? No, dear; it's their happiest +time." + +"I don't believe either of the darlings know what's the matter with +them. Isn't it beautiful? Isn't it lovely?" + +"Getting up at three to learn to milk, bless her heart! Oh, ye +Gods, why must we grow old and fat?" + +"She's a darling. She has done more work under me -" + +"Under you? The day after she came she was in charge and you were +her subordinate. You've stayed there ever since; she manages you +almost as well as you manage me." + +"She doesn't, and that's why I love her. She's as direct as a +man - as her brother." + +"Her brother's weaker than she is. He's always to me for orders; +but he's honest, and a glutton for work. I confess I'm rather +fond of William, and if I had a daughter -" + +The talk ended. Far away in the Derajat was a child's grave more +than twenty years old, and neither Jim nor his wife spoke of it +any more. + +All the same, you're responsible," Jim added, a moment's silence. + +"Bless 'em!" said Mrs. Jim, sleepily. + +Before the stars paled, Scott, who slept in an empty cart, waked +and went about his work in silence; it seemed at that hour unkind +to rouse Faiz Ullah and the interpreter. His head being close to +the ground, he did not hear William till she stood over him in the +dingy old riding-habit, her eyes still heavy with sleep, a cup of +tea and a piece of toast in her hands. There was a baby on the +ground, squirming on a piece of blanket, and a six-year-old child +peered over Scott's shoulder. + +"Hai, you little rip," said Scott, "how the deuce do you expect to +get your rations if you aren't quiet?" + +A cool white hand steadied the brat, who forthwith choked as the +milk gurgled into his mouth. + +"'Mornin'," said the milker. "You've no notion how these little +fellows can wriggle." + +"Oh, yes, I have." She whispered, because the world was asleep. +"Only I feed them with a spoon or a rag. Yours are fatter than +mine. And you've been doing this day after day?" The voice was +almost lost. + +"Yes; it was absurd. Now you try," he said, giving place to the +girl. "Look out! A goat's not a cow." + +The goat protested against the amateur, and there was a scuffle, +in which Scott snatched up the baby. Then it was all to do over +again, and William laughed softly and merrily. She managed, +however, to feed two babies, and a third. + +"Don't the little beggars take it well?" said Scott. "I trained +'em." + +They were very busy and interested, when lo! it was broad daylight, +and before they knew, the camp was awake, and they kneeled among +the goats, surprised by the day, both flushed to the temples. Yet +all the round world rolling up out of the darkness might have heard +and seen all that had passed between them. + +"Oh," said William, unsteadily, snatching up the tea and toast, "I +had this made for you. It's stone-cold now. I thought you mightn't +have anything ready so early. 'Better not drink it. It's - it's +stone-cold." + +"That's awfully kind of you. It's just right. It's awfully good +of you, really. I'll leave my kids and goats with you and Mrs. +Jim, and, of course, any one in camp can show you about the +milking." + +"Of course," said William; and she grew pinker and pinker and +statelier and more stately, as she strode back to her tent, +fanning herself with the saucer. + +There were shrill lamentations through the camp when the elder +children saw their nurse move off without them. Faiz Ullah unbent +so far as to jest with the policemen, and Scott turned purple with +shame because Hawkins, already in the saddle, roared. + +A child escaped from the care of Mrs. Jim, and, running like a +rabbit, clung to Scott's boot, William pursuing with long, easy +strides. + +"I will not go - I will not go!" shrieked the child, twining his +feet round Scott's ankle. They will kill me here. I do not know +these people." + +"I say," said Scott, in broken Tamil, "I say, she will do you no +harm. Go with her and be well fed." + +"Come!" said William, panting, with a wrathful glance at Scott, +who stood helpless and, as it were, hamstrung. + +"Go back," said Scott quickly to William. I'll send the little +chap over in a minute." + +The tone of authority had its effect, but in a way Scott did not +exactly intend. The boy loosened his grasp, and said with +gravity: "I did not know the woman was thine. I will go." Then +he cried to his companions, a mob of three-, four-, and +five-year-olds waiting on the success of his venture ere they +stampeded: "Go back and eat. It is our man's woman. She will +obey his orders." + +Jim collapsed where he sat; Faiz Ullah and the two policemen +grinned; and Scott's orders to the cartmen flew like hail. + +"That is the custom of the Sahibs when truth is told in their +presence," said Faiz Ullah. "The time comes that I must seek new +service. Young wives, especially such as speak our language and +have knowledge of the ways of the Police, make great trouble for +honest butlers in the matter of weekly accounts." + +What William thought of it all she did not say, but when her +brother, ten days later, came to camp for orders, and heard of +Scott's performances, he said, laughing: "Well, that settles it. +He'll be Bakri Scott to the end of his days." (Bakri in the +Northern vernacular, means a goat.) "What a lark! I'd have given +a month's pay to have seen him nursing famine babies. I fed some +with conjee [rice-water], but that was all right." + +"It's perfectly disgusting," said his sister, with blazing eyes. +"A man does something like - like that - and all you other men +think of is to give him an absurd nickname, and then you laugh +and think it's funny." + +"Ah," said Mrs. Jim, sympathetically. + +"Well, you can't talk, William. You christened little Miss Demby +the Button-quail, last cold weather; you know you did. India's +the land of nicknames." + +"That's different," William replied. "She was only a girl, and +she hadn't done anything except walk like a quail, and she does. +But it isn't fair to make fun of a man." + +"Scott won't care," said Martyn. "You can't get a rise out of old +Scotty. I've been trying for eight years, and you've only known +him for three. How does he look?" + +"He looks very well," said William, and went away with a flushed +cheek. "Bakri Scott, indeed!" Then she laughed to herself, for +she knew her country. "But it will he Bakri all the same"; and +she repeated it under her breath several times slowly, +whispering it into favour. + +When he returned to his duties on the railway, Martyn spread the +name far and wide among his associates, so that Scott met it as +he led his paddy-carts to war. The natives believed it to be +some English title of honour, and the cart-drivers used it in +all simplicity till Faiz Ullah, who did not approve of foreign +japes, broke their heads. There was very little time for milking +now, except at the big camps, where Jim had extended Scott's +idea and was feeding large flocks on the useless northern grains. +Sufficient paddy had come now into the Eight Districts to hold +the people safe, if it were only distributed quickly, and for that +purpose no one was better than the big Canal officer, who never +lost his temper, never gave an unnecessary order, and never +questioned an order given. Scott pressed on, saving his cattle, +washing their galled necks daily, so that no time should be lost +on the road; reported himself with his rice at the minor +famine-sheds, unloaded, and went back light by forced night-march +to the next distributing centre, to find Hawkins's unvarying +telegram: "Do it again." And he did it again and again, and yet +again, while Jim Hawkins, fifty miles away, marked off on a big +map the tracks of his wheels gridironing the stricken lands. +Others did well - Hawkins reported at the end they all did well + - but Scott was the most excellent, for he kept good coined +rupees by him, settled for his own cart-repairs on the spot, and +ran to meet all sorts of unconsidered extras, trusting to be +recouped later on. Theoretically, the Government should have +paid for every shoe and linchpin, for every hand employed in the +loading; but Government vouchers cash themselves slowly, and +intelligent and efficient clerks write at great length, contesting +unauthorised expenditures of eight annas. The man who wants to +make his work a success must draw on his own bank-account of money +or other things as he goes. + +"I told you he'd work," said Jimmy to his wife, at the end of six +weeks. "He's been in sole charge of a couple of thousand men up +north, on the Mosuhl Canal, for a year; but he gives less trouble +than young Martyn with his ten constables; and I'm morally certain + - only Government doesn't recognise moral obligations - he's spent +about half his pay to grease his wheels. Look at this, Lizzie, for +one week's work! Forty miles in two days with twelve carts; two +days' halt building a famine-shed for young Rogers. (Rogers ought +to have built it himself, the idiot!) Then forty miles back again, +loading six carts on the way, and distributing all Sunday. Then in +the evening he pitches in a twenty-page Demi-Official to me, saying +the people where he is might be 'advantageously employed on +relief-work,' and suggesting that he put 'em to work on some +broken-down old reservoir he's discovered, so as to have a good +water-supply when the Rains break. 'Thinks he can cauk the dam +in a fortnight. Look at his marginal sketches - aren't they +clear and good? I knew he was pukka, but I didn't know he was +as pukka as this." + +"I must show these to William," said Mrs. Jim. "The child's +wearing herself out among the babies." + +"Not more than you are, dear. Well, another two months ought to +see us out of the wood. I'm sorry it's not in my power to +recommend you for a V. C." + +William sat late in her tent that night, reading through page +after page of the square handwriting, patting the sketches of +proposed repairs to the reservoir, and wrinkling her eyebrows +over the columns of figures of estimated water-supply. "And he +finds time to do all this," she cried to herself, "and - well, I +also was present. I've saved one or two babies. + +She dreamed for the twentieth time of the god in the golden dust, +and woke refreshed to feed loathsome black children, scores of them, +wastrels picked up by the wayside, their bones almost breaking their +skin, terrible and covered with sores. + +Scott was not allowed to leave his cart-work, but his letter was +duly forwarded to the Government, and he had the consolation, +not rare in India, of knowing that another man was reaping where +he had sown. That also was discipline profitable to the soul. + +"He's much too good to waste on canals," said Jimmy. "Any one can +oversee coolies. You needn't be angry, William; he can - but I +need my pearl among bullock-drivers, and I've transferred him to +the Khanda district, where he'll have it all to do over again. He +should be marching now. + +"He's not a coolie," said William, furiously. "He ought to be +doing his regulation work." + +"He's the best man in his service, and that's saying a good deal; +but if you must use razors to cut grindstones, why, I prefer the +best cutlery." + +"Isn't it almost time we saw him again?" said Mrs. Jim. "I'm sure +the poor boy hasn't had a respectable meal for a month. He probably +sits on a cart and eats sardines with his fingers." + +"All in good time, dear. Duty before decency - wasn't it Mr. +Chucks said that?" + +"No; it was Midshipman Easy," William laughed. "I sometimes +wonder how it will feel to dance or listen to a band again, or +sit under a roof. I can't believe I ever wore a ball-frock in my +life." + +"One minute," said Mrs. Jim, who was thinking. "If he goes to +Khanda, he passes within five miles of us. Of course he'll ride +in." + +"Oh, no, he won't," said William. + +"How do you know, dear?" + +"It will take him off his work. He won't have time." + +"He'll make it," said Mrs. Jim, with a twinkle. + + "It depends on his own judgment. There's absolutely no reason +why he shouldn't, if he thinks fit," said Jim. + +"He won't see fit," William replied, without sorrow or emotion. +"It wouldn't be him if he did." + +"One certainly gets to know people rather well in times like these," +said Jim, drily; but William's face was serene as ever, and even +as she prophesied, Scott did not appear. + +The Rains fell at last, late, but heavily; and the dry, gashed +earth was red mud, and servants killed snakes in the camp, where +every one was weather-bound for a fortnight - all except Hawkins, +who took horse and plashed about in the wet, rejoicing. Now the +Government decreed that seed-grain should be distributed to the +people, as well as advances of money for the purchase of new oxen; +and the white men were doubly worked for this new duty, while +William skipped from brick to brick laid down on the trampled mud, +and dosed her charges with warming medicines that made them rub +their little round stomachs; and the milch goats throve on the +rank grass. There was never a word from Scott in the Khanda +district, away to the southeast, except the regular telegraphic +report to Hawkins. The rude country roads had disappeared; his +drivers were half mutinous; one of Martyn's loaned policemen had +died of cholera; and Scott was taking thirty grains of quinine a +day to fight the fever that comes with the rain: but those were +things Scott did not consider necessary to report. He was, as +usual, working from a base of supplies on a railway line, to cover +a circle of fifteen miles radius, and since full loads were +impossible, he took quarter-loads, and toiled four times as hard +by consequence; for he did not choose to risk an epidemic which +might have grown uncontrollable by assembling villagers in +thousands at the relief-sheds. It was cheaper to take Government +bullocks, work them to death, and leave them to the crows in the +wayside sloughs. + +That was the time when eight years of clean living and hard condition +told, though a man's head were ringing like a bell from the cinchona, +and the earth swayed under his feet when he stood and under his bed +when he slept. If Hawkins had seen fit to make him a bullock-driver, +that, he thought, was entirely Hawkins's own affair. There were men +in the North who would know what he had done; men of thirty years' +service in his own department who would say that it was "not half +bad"; and above, immeasurably above, all men of all grades, there +was William in the thick of the fight, who would approve because she +understood. He had so trained his mind that it would hold fast to +the mechanical routine of the day, though his own voice sounded +strange in his own ears, and his hands, when he wrote, grew large +as pillows or small as peas at the end of his wrists. That +steadfastness bore his body to the telegraph-office at the +railway-station, and dictated a telegram to Hawkins saying that +the Khanda district was, in his judgment, now safe, and he "waited +further orders." + +The Madrassee telegraph-clerk did not approve of a large, gaunt +man falling over him in a dead faint, not so much because of the +weight as because of the names and blows that Faiz Ullah dealt +him when he found the body rolled under a bench. Then Faiz Ullah +took blankets, quilts, and coverlets where he found them, and lay +down under them at his master's side, and bound his arms with a +tent-rope, and filled him with a horrible stew of herbs, and set +the policeman to fight him when he wished to escape from the +intolerable heat of his coverings, and shut the door of the +telegraph-office to keep out the curious for two nights and one +day; and when a light engine came down the line, and Hawkins +kicked in the door, Scott hailed him weakly but in a natural +voice, and Faiz Ullah stood back and took all the credit. + +"For two nights, Heaven-born, he was pagal" said Faiz Ullah. "Look +at my nose, and consider the eye of the policeman. He beat us with +his bound hands; but we sat upon him, Heaven-born, and though his +words were tez, we sweated him. Heaven-born, never has been such +a sweat! He is weaker now than a child; but the fever has gone out +of him, by the grace of God. There remains only my nose and the eye +of the constabeel. Sahib, shall I ask for my dismissal because my +Sahib has beaten me?" And Faiz Ullah laid his long thin hand +carefully on Scott's chest to be sure that the fever was all gone, +ere he went out to open tinned soups and discourage such as laughed +at his swelled nose. + +"The district's all right," Scott whispered. "It doesn't make any +difference. You got my wire?" I shall be fit in a week. 'Can't +understand how it happened. I shall be fit in a few days." + +"You're coming into camp with us," said Hawkins. + +"But look here - but -" + +"It's all over except the shouting. We sha'n't need you Punjabis +any more. On my honour, we sha'n't. Martyn goes back in a few +weeks; Arbuthnot's returned already; Ellis and Clay are putting +the last touches to a new feeder-line the Government's built as +relief-work. Morten's dead - he was a Bengal man, though; you +wouldn't know him. 'Pon my word, you and Will - Miss Martyn - +seem to have come through it as well as anybody." + +"Oh, how is she, by-the-way"." The voice went up and down as he +spoke. + +"Going strong when I left her. The Roman Catholic Missions are +adopting the unclaimed babies to turn them into little priests; +the Basil Mission is taking some, and the mothers are taking the +rest. You should hear the little beggars howl when they're sent +away from William. She's pulled down a bit, but so are we all. +Now, when do you suppose you'll be able to move?" + +"I can't come into camp in this state. I won't," he replied +pettishly. + +"Well, you are rather a sight, but from what I gathered there it +seemed to me they'd be glad to see you under any conditions. I'll +look over your work here, if you like, for a couple of days, and +you can pull yourself together while Faiz Ullah feeds you up." + +Scott could walk dizzily by the time Hawkins's inspection was +ended, and he flushed all over when Jim said of his work that it +was "not half bad," and volunteered, further, that he had considered +Scott his right-hand man through the famine, and would feel it his +duty to say as much officially. + +So they came back by rail to the old camp; but there were no crowds +near it; the long fires in the trenches were dead and black, and +the famine-sheds were almost empty. + +"You see!" said Jim. "There isn't much more to do. 'Better ride +up and see the wife. They've pitched a tent for you. Dinner's at +seven. I've some work here." + +Riding at a foot-pace, Faiz Ullah by his stirrup, Scott came to +William in the brown-calico riding-habit, sitting at the +dining-tent door, her hands in her lap, white as ashes, thin and +worn, with no lustre in her hair. There did not seem to be any +Mrs. Jim on the horizon, and all that William could say was: "My +word, how pulled down you look!" + +"I've had a touch of fever. You don't look very well yourself." + +"Oh, I'm fit enough. We've stamped it out. I suppose you know?" + +Scott nodded. "We shall all be returned in a few weeks. Hawkins +told me." + +"Before Christmas, Mrs. Jim says. Sha'n't you be glad to go back? +I can smell the wood-smoke already"; William sniffed. "We shall +be in time for all the Christmas doings. I don't suppose even the +Punjab Government would be base enough to transfer Jack till the +new year?" + +"It seems hundreds of years ago - the Punjab and all that - doesn't +it? Are you glad you came?" + +"Now it's all over, yes. It has been ghastly here, though. You +know we had to sit still and do nothing, and Sir Jim was away so +much." + +"Do nothing! How did you get on with the milking?" + +"I managed it somehow - after you taught me. 'Remember?" + +Then the talk stopped with an almost audible jar. Still no Mrs. +Jim. + +"That reminds me, I owe you fifty rupees for the condensed-milk. +I thought perhaps you'd be coming here when you were transferred +to the Khanda district, and I could pay you then; but you +didn't." + +"I passed within five miles of the camp, but it was in the middle +of a march, you see, and the carts were breaking down every few +minutes, and I couldn't get 'em over the ground till ten o'clock +that night. I wanted to come awfully. You knew I did, didn't you?" + +"I - believe - I - did," said William, facing him with level eyes. +She was no longer white." + +"Did you understand?" + +"Why you didn't ride in? Of course I did." + +"Why?" + +"Because you couldn't, of course. I knew that." + +"Did you care?" + +"If you had come in - but I knew you wouldn't - but if you had, I +should have cared a great deal. You know I should." + +"Thank God I didn't! Oh, but I wanted to! I couldn't trust myself +to ride in front of the carts, because I kept edging 'em over +here, don't you know?" + +"I knew you wouldn't," said William, contentedly. "Here's your +fifty." + +Scott bent forward and kissed the hand that held the greasy +notes. Its fellow patted him awkwardly but very tenderly on the +head. + +"And you knew, too, didn't you?" said William, in a new voice. + +"No, on my honour, I didn't. I hadn't the - the cheek to expect +anything of the kind, except ... I say, were you out riding +anywhere the day I passed by to Khanda?" + +William nodded, and smiled after the manner of an angel surprised +in a good deed. + +"Then it was just a speck I saw of your habit in the -" + +"Palm-grove on the Southern cart-road. I saw your helmet when you +came up from the mullah by the temple - just enough to be sure +that you were all right. D' you care?" + +This time Scott did not kiss her hand, for they were in the dusk +of the dining-tent, and, because William's knees were trembling +under her, she had to sit down in the nearest chair, where she wept +long and happily, her head on her arms; and when Scott imagined +that it would be well to comfort her, she needing nothing of the +kind, she ran to her own tent; and Scott went out into the world, +and smiled upon it largely and idiotically. But when Faiz Ullah +brought him a drink, he found it necessary to support one hand +with the other, or the good whisky and soda would have been spilled +abroad. There are fevers and fevers. + +But it was worse - much worse - the strained, eye-shirking talk at +dinner till the servants had withdrawn, and worst of all when Mrs. +Jim, who had been on the edge of weeping from the soup down, kissed +Scott and William, and they drank one whole bottle of champagne, +hot, because there was no ice, and Scott and William sat outside the +tent in the starlight till Mrs. Jim drove them in for fear of more +fever. + +Apropos of these things and some others William said: "Being engaged +is abominable, because, you see, one has no official position. We +must be thankful we've lots of things to do." + +"Things to do!" said Jim, when that was reported to him. "They're +neither of them any good any more. I can't get five hours' work a +day out of Scott. He's in the clouds half the time." + +"Oh, but they're so beautiful to watch, Jimmy. It will break my +heart when they go. Can't you do anything for him?" + +"I've given the Government the impression - at least, I hope I have + - that he personally conducted the entire famine. But all he wants +is to get on to the Luni Canal Works, and William's just as bad. +Have you ever heard 'em talking of barrage and aprons and +waste-water? It's their style of spooning, I suppose." + +Mrs. Jim smiled tenderly. "Ah, that's in the intervals - bless +'em." + +And so Love ran about the camp unrebuked in broad daylight, while +men picked up the pieces and put them neatly away of the Famine in +the Eight Districts. + + * * * * * * * * * * * * * +Morning brought the penetrating chill of the Northern December, the +layers of wood-smoke, the dusty grey-blue of the tamarisks, the +domes of ruined tombs, and all the smell of the white Northern +plains, as the mail-train ran on to the mile-long Sutlej Bridge. +William, wrapped in a poshteen - a silk-embroidered sheepskin jacket +trimmed with rough astrakhan - looked out with moist eyes and +nostrils that dilated joyously. The South of pagodas and palm-trees, +the overpopulated Hindu South, was done with. Here was the land she +knew and loved, and before her lay the good life she understood, +among folk of her own caste and mind. + +They were picking them up at almost every station now - men and +women coming in for the Christmas Week, with racquets, with bundles +of polo-sticks, with dear and bruised cricket-bats, with fox-terriers +and saddles. The greater part of them wore jackets like William's, +for the Northern cold is as little to be trifled with as the Northern +heat. And William was among them and of them, her hands deep in her +pockets, her collar turned up over her ears, stamping her feet on +the platforms as she walked up and down to get warm, visiting from +carriage to carriage and everywhere being congratulated. Scott was +with the bachelors at the far end of the train, where they chaffed +him mercilessly about feeding babies and milking goats; but from +time to time he would stroll up to William's window, and murmur: +"Good enough, isn't it?" and William would answer with sighs of pure +delight: "Good enough, indeed." The large open names of the home +towns were good to listen to. Umballa, Ludianah, Phillour, Jullundur, +they rang like the coming marriage-bells in her ears, and William +felt deeply and truly sorry for all strangers and outsiders - +visitors, tourists, and those fresh-caught for the service of the +country. + +It was a glorious return, and when the bachelors gave the Christmas +Ball, William was, unofficially, you might say, the chief and +honoured guest among the Stewards, who could make things very +pleasant for their friends. She and Scott danced nearly all the +dances together, and sat out the rest in the big dark gallery +overlooking the superb teak floor, where the uniforms blazed, and +the spurs clinked, and the new frocks and four hundred dancers went +round and round till the draped flags on the pillars flapped and +bellied to the whirl of it. + +About midnight half a dozen men who did not care for dancing came +over from the Club to play "Waits," and that was a surprise the +Stewards had arranged - before any one knew what had happened, +the band stopped, and hidden voices broke into "Good King +Wenceslaus," and William in the gallery hummed and beat time with +her foot: + + "Mark my footsteps well, my page, + Tread thou in them boldly. + Thou shalt feel the winter's rage + Freeze thy blood less coldly!" + +"Oh, I hope they are going to give us another! Isn't it pretty, +coming out of the dark in that way? Look - look down. There's +Mrs. Gregory wiping her eyes!" + +"It's like Home, rather," said Scott. "I remember -" + +"Hsh! Listen! - dear." And it began again: + + "When shepherds watched their flocks by night -" + +"A-h-h!" said William, drawing closer to Scott. + + "All seated on the ground, + The Angel of the Lord came down, + And glory shone around. + 'Fear not,' said he (for mighty dread + Had seized their troubled mind); + 'Glad tidings of great joy I bring + To you and all mankind.'" + +This time it was William that wiped her eyes. + + + + +.007 + + +A locomotive is, next to a marine engine, the most sensitive thing +man ever made; and No. .007, besides being sensitive, was new. The +red paint was hardly dry on his spotless bumper-bar, his headlight +shone like a fireman's helmet, and his cab might have been a +hard-wood-finish parlour. They had run him into the round-house +after his trial - he had said good-bye to his best friend in the +shops, the overhead travelling-crane - the big world was just +outside; and the other locos were taking stock of him. He looked +at the semicircle of bold, unwinking headlights, heard the low purr +and mutter of the steam mounting in the gauges - scornful hisses of +contempt as a slack valve lifted a little - and would have given a +month's oil for leave to crawl through his own driving-wheels into +the brick ash-pit beneath him. .007 was an eight-wheeled "American" +loco, slightly different from others of his type, and as he stood +he was worth ten thousand dollars on the Company's books. But if +you had bought him at his own valuation, after half an hour's waiting +in the darkish, echoing round-house, you would have saved exactly +nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine dollars and ninety-eight +cents. + +A heavy Mogul freight, with a short cow-catcher and a fire-box that +came down within three inches of the rail, began the impolite game, +speaking to a Pittsburgh Consolidation, who was visiting. + +"Where did this thing blow in from?" he asked, with a dreamy puff +of light steam. + +"it's all I can do to keep track of our makes," was the answer, +"without lookin' after your back-numbers. Guess it's something Peter +Cooper left over when he died." + +.007 quivered; his steam was getting up, but he held his tongue. +Even a hand-car knows what sort of locomotive it was that Peter +Cooper experimented upon in the far-away Thirties. It carried its +coal and water in two apple-barrels, and was not much bigger than +a bicycle. + +Then up and spoke a small, newish switching-engine, with a little +step in front of his bumper-timber, and his wheels so close together +that he looked like a broncho getting ready to buck. + +"Something's wrong with the road when a Pennsylvania gravelpusher +tells us anything about our stock, I think. That kid's all right. +Eustis designed him, and Eustis designed me. Ain't that good enough?" + +.007 could have carried the switching-loco round the yard in his +tender, but he felt grateful for even this little word of consolation. + +"We don't use hand-cars on the Pennsylvania," said the Consolidation. +"That - er - peanut-stand is old enough and ugly enough to speak for +himself." + +"He hasn't bin spoken to yet. He's bin spoke at. Hain't ye any +manners on the Pennsylvania?" said the switching-loco. + +"You ought to be in the yard, Poney," said the Mogul, severely. +"We're all long-haulers here." + +"That's what you think," the little fellow replied. "You'll know +more 'fore the night's out. I've bin down to Track 17, and the +freight there - oh, Christmas!" + +"I've trouble enough in my own division," said a lean, light suburban +loco with very shiny brake-shoes. "My commuters wouldn't rest till +they got a parlourcar. They've hitched it back of all, and it hauls +worsen a snow-plough. I'll snap her off someday sure, and then +they'll blame every one except their foolselves. They'll be askin' +me to haul a vestibuled next!" + +"They made you in New Jersey, didn't they?" said Poney. "Thought so. +Commuters and truck-wagons ain't any sweet haulin', but I tell you +they're a heap better 'n cuttin' out refrigerator-cars or oil-tanks. +Why, I've hauled -" + +"Haul! You?" said the Mogul, contemptuously. "It's all you can do +to bunt a cold-storage car up the yard. Now, I - " he paused a +little to let the words sink in - "I handle the Flying Freight + - e-leven cars worth just anything you please to mention. On the +stroke of eleven I pull out; and I'm timed for thirty-five an hour. +Costly-perishable-fragile-immediate - that's me! Suburban traffic's +only but one degree better than switching. Express freight's what +pays." + +"Well, I ain't given to blowing, as a rule," began the Pittsburgh +Consolidation. + +"No? You was sent in here because you grunted on the grade," Poney +interrupted. + +"Where I grunt, you'd lie down, Poney: but, as I was saying, I don't +blow much. Notwithstandin', if you want to see freight that is +freight moved lively, you should see me warbling through the +Alleghanies with thirty-seven ore-cars behind me, and my brakemen +fightin' tramps so's they can't attend to my tooter. I have to do +all the holdin' back then, and, though I say it, I've never had a +load get away from me yet. No, sir. Haulin's's one thing, but +judgment and discretion's another. You want judgment in my +business." + +"Ah! But - but are you not paralysed by a sense of your overwhelming +responsibilities?" said a curious, husky voice from a corner. + +"Who's that?" .007 whispered to the Jersey commuter. + +"Compound-experiment-N.G. She's bin switchin' in the B. & A. yards +for six months, when she wasn't in the shops. She's economical (I +call it mean) in her coal, but she takes it out in repairs. Ahem! +I presume you found Boston somewhat isolated, madam, after your New +York season?" + +"I am never so well occupied as when I am alone." The Compound +seemed to be talking from half-way up her smoke-stack. + +"Sure," said the irreverent Poney, under his breath. "They don't +hanker after her any in the yard." + +"But, with my constitution and temperament - my work lies in Boston + - I find your outrecuidance - " + +"Outer which?" said the Mogul freight. "Simple cylinders are good +enough for me." + +"Perhaps I should have said faroucherie," hissed the Compound. + +"I don't hold with any make of papier-mache wheel," the Mogul +insisted. + +The Compound sighed pityingly, and said no more. + +"Git 'em all shapes in this world, don't ye?" said Poney. "that's +Mass'chusetts all over. They half start, an' then they stick on a +dead-centre, an' blame it all on other folk's ways o' treatin' them. +Talkin' o' Boston, Comanche told me, last night, he had a hot-box +just beyond the Newtons, Friday. That was why, he says, the +Accommodation was held up. Made out no end of a tale, Comanche did." + +"If I'd heard that in the shops, with my boiler out for repairs, I'd +know 't was one o' Comanche's lies," the New Jersey commuter snapped. +"Hot-box! Him! What happened was they'd put an extra car on, and +he just lay down on the grade and squealed. They had to send 127 to +help him through. Made it out a hotbox, did he? Time before that +he said he was ditched! Looked me square in the headlight and told +me that as cool as - as a water-tank in a cold wave. Hot-box! You +ask 127 about Comanche's hot-box. Why, Comanche he was side-tracked, +and 127 (he was just about as mad as they make 'em on account o' +being called out at ten o'clock at night) took hold and snapped her +into Boston in seventeen minutes. Hot-box! Hot fraud! that's what +Comanche is." + +Then .007 put both drivers and his pilot into it, as the saying is, +for he asked what sort of thing a hot-box might be? + +"Paint my bell sky-blue!" said Poney, the switcher. "Make me a +surface-railroad loco with a hard-wood skirtin'-board round my wheels. +Break me up and cast me into five-cent sidewalk-fakirs' mechanical +toys! Here's an eight-wheel coupled 'American' don't know what a +hot-box is! Never heard of an emergency-stop either, did ye? Don't +know what ye carry jack-screws for? You're too innocent to be left +alone with your own tender. Oh, you - you flatcar!" + +There was a roar of escaping steam before any one could answer, and +.007 nearly blistered his paint off with pure mortification. + +"A hot-box," began the Compound, picking and choosing her words as +though they were coal, "a hotbox is the penalty exacted from +inexperience by haste. Ahem!" + +"Hot-box!" said the Jersey Suburban. "It's the price you pay for +going on the tear. It's years since I've had one. It's a disease +that don't attack shorthaulers, as a rule." + +"We never have hot-boxes on the Pennsylvania," said the Consolidation. +"They get 'em in New York - same as nervous prostration." + +"Ah, go home on a ferry-boat," said the Mogul. "You think because +you use worse grades than our road 'u'd allow, you're a kind of +Alleghany angel. Now, I'll tell you what you ... Here's my folk. +Well, I can't stop. See you later, perhaps." + +He rolled forward majestically to the turn-table, and swung like +a man-of-war in a tideway, till he picked up his track. "But as +for you, you pea-green swiveling' coffee-pot (this to .007'), you +go out and learn something before you associate with those who've +made more mileage in a week than you'll roll up in a year. +Costly-perishable-fragile-immediate-that's me! S' long." + +"Split my tubes if that's actin' polite to a new member o' the +Brotherhood," said Poney. "There wasn't any call to trample on ye +like that. But manners was left out when Moguls was made. Keep +up your fire, kid, an' burn your own smoke. 'Guess we'll all be +wanted in a minute." + +Men were talking rather excitedly in the roundhouse. One man, in +a dingy jersey, said that he hadn't any locomotives to waste on the +yard. Another man, with a piece of crumpled paper in his hand, said +that the yard-master said that he was to say that if the other man +said anything, he (the other man) was to shut his head. Then the +other man waved his arms, and wanted to know if he was expected to +keep locomotives in his hip-pocket. Then a man in a black Prince +Albert, without a collar, came up dripping, for it was a hot August +night, and said that what he said went; and between the three of +them the locomotives began to go, too - first the Compound; then +the Consolidation; then .007. + +Now, deep down in his fire-box, .007 had cherished a hope that as +soon as his trial was done, he would be led forth with songs and +shoutings, and attached to a green-and-chocolate vestibuled flyer, +under charge of a bold and noble engineer, who would pat him on his +back, and weep over him, and call him his Arab steed. (The boys in +the shops where he was built used to read wonderful stories of +railroad life, and .007 expected things to happen as he had heard.) +But there did not seem to be many vestibuled fliers in the roaring, +rumbling, electric-lighted yards, and his engineer only said: + +"Now, what sort of a fool-sort of an injector has Eustis loaded on +to this rig this time?" And he put the lever over with an angry +snap, crying: "Am I supposed to switch with this thing, hey?" + +The collarless man mopped his head, and replied that, in the present +state of the yard and freight and a few other things, the engineer +would switch and keep on switching till the cows came home. .007 +pushed out gingerly, his heart in his headlight, so nervous that the +clang of his own bell almost made him jump the track. Lanterns +waved, or danced up and down, before and behind him; and on every +side, six tracks deep, sliding backward and forward, with clashings +of couplers and squeals of hand-brakes, were cars - more cars than +.007 had dreamed of. There were oil-cars, and hay-cars, and +stock-cars full of lowing beasts, and ore-cars, and potato-cars with +stovepipe-ends sticking out in the middle; cold-storage and +refrigerator cars dripping ice water on the tracks; ventilated +fruit- and milk-cars; flatcars with truck-wagons full of market-stuff; +flat-cars loaded with reapers and binders, all red and green and +gilt under the sizzling electric lights; flat-cars piled high with +strong-scented hides, pleasant hemlock-plank, or bundles of shingles; +flat-cars creaking to the weight of thirty-ton castings, angle-irons, +and rivet-boxes for some new bridge; and hundreds and hundreds and +hundreds of box-cars loaded, locked, and chalked. Men - hot and +angry - crawled among and between and under the thousand wheels; men +took flying jumps through his cab, when he halted for a moment; men +sat on his pilot as he went forward, and on his tender as he +returned; and regiments of men ran along the tops of the box-cars +beside him, screwing down brakes, waving their arms, and crying +curious things. + +He was pushed forward a foot at a time; whirled backward, his rear +drivers clinking and clanking, a quarter of a mile; jerked into a +switch (yard-switches are very stubby and unaccommodating), bunted +into a Red D, or Merchant's Transport car, and, with no hint or +knowledge of the weight behind him, started up anew. When his load +was fairly on the move, three or four cars would be cut off, and +.007 would bound forward, only to be held hiccupping on the brake. +Then he would wait a few minutes, watching the whirled lanterns, +deafened with the clang of the bells, giddy with the vision of the +sliding cars, his brake-pump panting forty to the minute, his front +coupler lying sideways on his cow-catcher, like a tired dog's tongue +in his mouth, and the whole of him covered with half-burnt coal-dust. + +"'Tisn't so easy switching with a straight-backed tender," said his +little friend of the round-house, bustling by at a trot. "But +you're comin' on pretty fair. 'Ever seen a flyin' switch? No? +Then watch me." + +Poney was in charge of a dozen heavy flat-cars. Suddenly he shot +away from them with a sharp "Whutt !" A switch opened in the shadows +ahead; he turned up it like a rabbit as it snapped behind him, and +the long line of twelve-foot-high lumber jolted on into the arms of +a full-sized road-loco, who acknowledged receipt with a dry howl. + +"My man's reckoned the smartest in the yard at that trick," he said, +returning. "Gives me cold shivers when another fool tries it, +though. That's where my short wheel-base comes in. Like as not +you'd have your tender scraped off if you tried it." + +.007 had no ambitions that way, and said so. + +"No? Of course this ain't your regular business, but say, don't you +think it's interestin'? Have you seen the yard-master? Well, he's +the greatest man on earth, an' don't you forget it. When are we +through? Why, kid, it's always like this, day an' night - Sundays +an' week-days. See that thirty-car freight slidin' in four, no, +five tracks off? She's all mixed freight, sent here to be sorted out +into straight trains. That's why we're cuttin' out the cars one by +one." He gave a vigorous push to a west-bound car as he spoke, and +started back with a little snort of surprise, for the car was an old +friend - an M. T. K. box-car. + +"Jack my drivers, but it's Homeless Kate! Why, Kate, ain't there +no gettin' you back to your friends? There's forty chasers out for +you from your road, if there's one. Who's holdin' you now?" + +"Wish I knew," whimpered Homeless Kate. "I belong in Topeka, but +I've bin to Cedar Rapids; I've bin to Winnipeg; I've bin to Newport +News; I've bin all down the old Atlanta and West Point; an' I've bin +to Buffalo. Maybe I'll fetch up at Haverstraw. I've only bin out +ten months, but I'm homesick - I'm just achin' homesick." + +"Try Chicago, Katie," said the switching-loco; and the battered old +car lumbered down the track, jolting: "I want to be in Kansas when +the sunflowers bloom." + +"'Yard's full o' Homeless Kates an' Wanderin' Willies," he explained +to .007. "I knew an old Fitchburg flat-car out seventeen months; an' +one of ours was gone fifteen 'fore ever we got track of her. Dunno +quite how our men fix it. 'Swap around, I guess. Anyway, I've done +my duty. She's on her way to Kansas, via Chicago; but I'll lay my +next boilerful she'll be held there to wait consignee's convenience, +and sent back to us with wheat in the fall." + +Just then the Pittsburgh Consolidation passed, at the head of a +dozen cars. + +"I'm goin' home," he said proudly. + +"Can't get all them twelve on to the flat. Break 'em in half, +Dutchy!" cried Poney. But it was .007 who was backed down to the +last six cars, and he nearly blew up with surprise when he found +himself pushing them on to a huge ferry-boat. He had never seen +deep water before, and shivered as the flat drew away and left his +bogies within six inches of the black, shiny tide. + +After this he was hurried to the freight-house, where he saw the +yard-master, a smallish, white-faced man in shirt, trousers, and +slippers, looking down upon a sea of trucks, a mob of bawling +truckmen, and squadrons of backing, turning, sweating, +spark-striking horses. + +"That's shippers' carts loadin' on to the receivin' trucks," said +the small engine, reverently. "But he don't care. He lets 'em cuss. +He's the Czar-King-Boss! He says 'Please,' and then they kneel down +an' pray. There's three or four strings o' today's freight to be +pulled before he can attend to them. When he waves his hand that +way, things happen." + +A string of loaded cars slid out down the track, and a string of +empties took their place. Bales, crates, boxes, jars, carboys, +frails, cases, and packages flew into them from the freight-house +as though the cars had been magnets and they iron filings. + +"Ki-yah!" shrieked little Poney. "Ain't it great?" + +A purple-faced truckman shouldered his way to the yard-master, and +shook his fist under his nose. The yard-master never looked up +from his bundle of freight receipts. He crooked his forefinger +slightly, and a tall young man in a red shirt, lounging carelessly +beside him, hit the truckman under the left ear, so that he dropped, +quivering and clucking, on a hay-bale. + +"Eleven, seven, ninety-seven, L. Y. S.; fourteen ought ought three; +nineteen thirteen; one one four; seventeen ought twenty-one M. B.; +and the ten westbound. All straight except the two last. Cut 'em +off at the junction. An' that's all right. Pull that string." +The yard-master, with mild blue eyes, looked out over the howling +truckmen at the waters in the moonlight beyond, and hummed: + + "All things bright and beautiful, + All creatures great and small, + All things wise and wonderful, + The Lawd Gawd He made all!" + +.007 moved out the cars and delivered them to the regular +road-engine. He had never felt quite so limp in his life before. + +"Curious, ain't it?" said Poney, puffing, on the next track. "You +an' me, if we got that man under our bumpers, we'd work him into +red waste an' not know what we'd done; but-up there - with the steam +hummin' in his boiler that awful quiet way ... " + +"I know," said .007. "Makes me feel as if I'd dropped my Fire an' +was getting cold. He is the greatest man on earth." + +They were at the far north end of the yard now, under a switchtower, +looking down on the four-track way of the main traffic. The Boston +Compound was to haul .007's string to some far-away northern +junction over an indifferent road-bed, and she mourned aloud for the +ninety-six pound rails of the B. & A. + +"You're young; you're young," she coughed. "You don't realise your +responsibilities." + +"Yes, he does," said Poney, sharply; "but he don't lie down under +'em." Then, with aside-spurt of steam, exactly like a tough +spitting: "There ain't more than fifteen thousand dollars' worth o' +freight behind her anyway, and she goes on as if 't were a hundred +thousand - same as the Mogul's. Excuse me, madam, but you've the +track .... She's stuck on a dead-centre again - bein' specially +designed not to." + +The Compound crawled across the tracks on a long slant, groaning +horribly at each switch, and moving like a cow in a snow-drift. +There was a little pause along the yard after her tail-lights had +disappeared; switches locked crisply, and every one seemed to be +waiting. + +"Now I'll show you something worth," said Poney. "When the Purple +Emperor ain't on time, it's about time to amend the Constitution. +The first stroke of twelve is - " + +"Boom!" went the clock in the big yard-tower, and far away .007 heard +a full, vibrating " Yah! Yah! Yah!" A headlight twinkled on the +horizon like a star, grew an overpowering blaze, and whooped up the +humming track to the roaring music of a happy giant's song: + + "With a michnai - ghignai - shtingal! Yah! Yah! Yah! + Ein - zwei - drei - Mutter! Yah! Yah! Yah! + She climb upon der shteeple, + Und she frighten all der people. + Singin' michnai - ghignai - shtingal! Yah! Yah!" + +The last defiant "yah! yah!" was delivered a mile and a half beyond +the passenger-depot; but .007 had caught one glimpse of the superb +six-wheel-coupled racing-locomotive, who hauled the pride and glory +of the road - the gilt-edged Purple Emperor, the millionaires' +south-bound express, laying the miles over his shoulder as a man +peels a shaving from a soft board. The rest was a blur of maroon +enamel, a bar of white light from the electrics in the cars, and +a flicker of nickel-plated hand-rail on the rear platform. + +"Ooh!" said .007. + +"Seventy-five miles an hour these five miles. Baths, I've heard; +barber's shop; ticker; and a library and the, rest to match. Yes, +sir; seventy-five an hour! But he'll talk to you in the round-house +just as democratic as I would. And I - cuss my wheel-base! - I'd +kick clean off the track at half his gait. He's the Master of our +Lodge. Cleans up at our house. I'll introdooce you some day. He's +worth knowin'! There ain't many can sing that song, either." + +.007 was too full of emotions to answer. He did not hear a raging +of telephone-bells in the switch-tower, nor the man, as he leaned +out and called to .007's engineer: "Got any steam?" + +"'Nough to run her a hundred mile out o' this, if I could," said +the engineer, who belonged to the open road and hated switching. + +"Then get. The Flying Freight's ditched forty mile out, with fifty +rod o' track ploughed up. No; no one's hurt, but both tracks are +blocked. Lucky the wreckin'-car an' derrick are this end of the +yard. Crew 'll be along in a minute. Hurry! You've the track." + +" Well, I could jest kick my little sawed-off self," said Poney, as +.007 was backed, with a bang, on to a grim and grimy car like a +caboose, but full of tools - a flatcar and a derrick behind it. +"Some folks are one thing, and some are another; but you're in luck, +kid. They push a wrecking-car. Now, don't get rattled. Your +wheel-base will keep you on the track, and there ain't any curves +worth mentionin'. Oh, say! Comanche told me there's one section +o' sawedged track that's liable to jounce ye a little. Fifteen an' +a half out, after the grade at Jackson's crossin'. You'll know it +by a farmhouse an' a windmill an' five maples in the dooryard. +Windmill's west o' the maples. An' there's an eighty-foot iron +bridge in the middle o' that section with no guard-rails. See you +later. Luck! " + +Before he knew well what had happened, .007 was flying up the track +into the dumb, dark world. Then fears of the night beset him. He + remembered all he had ever heard of landslides, rain-piled boulders, +blown trees, and strayed cattle, all that the Boston Compound had +ever said of responsibility, and a great deal more that came out of +his own head. With a very quavering voice he whistled for his first +grade-crossing (an event in the life of a locomotive), and his +nerves were in no way restored by the sight of a frantic horse and +a white-faced man in a buggy less than a yard from his right +shoulder. Then he was sure he would jump the track; felt his +flanges mounting the rail at every curve; knew that his first grade +would make him lie down even as Comanche had done at the Newtons. +He whirled down the grade to Jackson's crossing, saw the windmill +west of the maples, felt the badly laid rails spring under him, and +sweated big drops all over his boiler. At each jarring bump he +believed an axle had smashed, and he took the eighty-foot bridge +without the guard-rail like a hunted cat on the top of a fence. +Then a wet leaf stuck against the glass of his headlight and threw +a flying shadow on the track, so that he thought it was some little +dancing animal that would feel soft if he ran over it; and anything +soft underfoot frightens a locomotive as it does an elephant. But +the men behind seemed quite calm. The wrecking-crew were climbing +carelessly from the caboose to the tender - even jesting with the +engineer, for he heard a shuffling of feet among the coal, and the +snatch of a song, something like this: + + "Oh, the Empire State must learn to wait, + And the Cannon-ball go hang! + When the West-bound's ditched, and the tool-car's hitched, + And it's 'way for the Breakdown Gang (Tare-ra!) + 'Way for the Breakdown Gang!" + +"Say! Eustis knew what he was doin' when he designed this rig. +She's a hummer. New, too." + +"Snff! Phew! She is new. That ain't paint. that's - " + +A burning pain shot through .007's right rear driver - a crippling, +stinging pain. + +"This," said .007, as he flew, "is a hot-box. Now I know what it +means. I shall go to pieces, I guess. My first road-run, too!" + +"Het a bit, ain't she?" the fireman ventured to suggest to the +engineer. + +"She'll hold for all we want of her. We're 'most there. Guess you +chaps back had better climb into your car," said the engineer, his +hand on the brake lever. "I've seen men snapped off -" + +But the crew fled back with laughter. They had no wish to be jerked +on to the track. The engineer half turned his wrist, and .007 found +his drivers pinned firm. + +"Now it's come!" said .007, as he yelled aloud, and slid like a +sleigh. For the moment he fancied that he would jerk bodily from +off his underpinning. + +"That must be the emergency-stop that Poney guyed me about," he +gasped, as soon as he could think. "Hot-box-emergency-stop. They +both hurt; but now I can talk back in the round-house." + +He was halted, all hissing hot, a few feet in the rear of what +doctors would call a compound-comminuted car. His engineer was +kneeling down among his drivers, but he did not call .007 his "Arab +steed," nor cry over him, as the engineers did in the newspapers. +He just bad worded .007, and pulled yards of charred cotton-waste +from about the axles, and hoped he might some day catch the idiot +who had packed it. Nobody else attended to him, for Evans, the +Mogul's engineer, a little cut about the head, but very angry, was +exhibiting, by lantern-light, the mangled corpse of a slim blue pig. + +"T were n't even a decent-sized hog," he said. "'T were a shote." + +"Dangerousest beasts they are," said one of the crew. "Get under +the pilot an' sort o' twiddle ye off the track, don't they? " + +"Don't they?" roared Evans, who was a red-headed Welshman. "You +talk as if I was ditched by a hog every fool-day o' the week. I +ain't friends with all the cussed half-fed shotes in the State o' +New York. No, indeed! Yes, this is him - an' look what he's done!" + +It was not a bad night's work for one stray piglet. The Flying +Freight seemed to have flown in every direction, for the Mogul had +mounted the rails and run diagonally a few hundred feet from right +to left, taking with him such cars as cared to follow. Some did +not. They broke their couplers and lay down, while rear cars +frolicked over them. In that game, they had ploughed up and removed +and twisted a good deal of the left-hand track. The Mogul himself +had waddled into a corn-field, and there he knelt - fantastic wreaths +of green twisted round his crankpins; his pilot covered with solid +clods of field, on which corn nodded drunkenly; his fire put out +with dirt (Evans had done that as soon as he recovered his senses); +and his broken headlight half full of half-burnt moths. His tender +had thrown coal all over him, and he looked like a disreputable +buffalo who had tried to wallow in a general store. For there lay +scattered over the landscape, from the burst cars, type-writers, +sewing-machines, bicycles in crates, a consignment of silver-plated +imported harness, French dresses and gloves, a dozen finely moulded +hard-wood mantels, a fifteen-foot naphtha-launch, with a solid brass +bedstead crumpled around her bows, a case of telescopes and +microscopes, two coffins, a case of very best candies, some +gilt-edged dairy produce, butter and eggs in an omelette, a broken +box of expensive toys, and a few hundred other luxuries. A camp of +tramps hurried up from nowhere, and generously volunteered to help +the crew. So the brakemen, armed with coupler-pins, walked up and +down on one side, and the freight-conductor and the fireman patrolled +the other with their hands in their hip-pockets. A long-bearded man +came out of a house beyond the corn-field, and told Evans that if +the accident had happened a little later in the year, all his corn +would have been burned, and accused Evans of carelessness. Then he +ran away, for Evans was at his heels shrieking: "'T was his hog done +it - his hog done it! Let me kill him! Let me kill him!" Then +the wrecking-crew laughed; and the farmer put his head out of a +window and said that Evans was no gentleman. + +But .007 was very sober. He had never seen a wreck before, and it +frightened him. The crew still laughed, but they worked at the same +time; and .007 forgot horror in amazement at the way they handled +the Mogul freight. They dug round him with spades; they put ties +in front of his wheels, and jack-screws under him; they embraced +him with the derrick-chain and tickled him with crowbars; while +.007 was hitched on to wrecked cars and backed away till the knot +broke or the cars rolled clear of the track. By dawn thirty or +forty men were at work, replacing and ramming down the ties, +gauging the rails and spiking them. By daylight all cars who could +move had gone on in charge of another loco; the track was freed for +traffic; and .007 had hauled the old Mogul over a small pavement of +ties, inch by inch, till his flanges bit the rail once more, and he +settled down with a clank. But his spirit was broken, and his nerve +was gone. + +"'T weren't even a hog," he repeated dolefully; "'t were a shote; +and you - you of all of 'em - had to help me on." + +"But how in the whole long road did it happen?" asked .007, sizzling +with curiosity. + +"Happen! It didn't happen! It just come! I sailed right on top of +him around that last curve - thought he was a skunk. Yes; he was +all as little as that. He hadn't more 'n squealed once 'fore I felt +my bogies lift (he'd rolled right under the pilot), and I couldn't +catch the track again to save me. Swivelled clean off, I was. Then +I felt him sling himself along, all greasy, under my left leadin' +driver, and, oh, Boilers! that mounted the rail. I heard my flanges +zippin' along the ties, an' the next I knew I was playin' 'Sally, +Sally Waters' in the corn, my tender shuckin' coal through my cab, +an' old man Evans lyin' still an' bleedin' in front o' me. Shook? +There ain't a stay or a bolt or a rivet in me that ain't sprung to +glory somewhere," + +"Umm!" said .007. "What d' you reckon you weigh?" + +"Without these lumps o' dirt I'm all of a hundred thousand pound." + +"And the shote?" + +"Eighty. Call him a hundred pound at the outside. He's worth about +four 'n' a half dollars. Ain't it awful? Ain't it enough to give +you nervous prostration? Ain't it paralysin'? Why, I come just +around that curve - " and the Mogul told the tale again, for he was +very badly shaken. + +"Well, it's all in the day's run, I guess," said .007, soothingly; +"an' - an' a corn-field's pretty soft fallin'." + +"If it had bin a sixty-foot bridge, an' I could ha' slid off into +deep water an' blown up an' killed both men, same as others have +done, I wouldn't ha' cared; but to be ditched by a shote - an' you +to help me out - in a corn-field - an' an old hayseed in his +nightgown cussin' me like as if I was a sick truck-horse! ... Oh, +it's awful! Don't call me Mogul! I'm a sewin'-machine. they'll +guy my sand-box off in the yard." + +And .007, his hot-box cooled and his experience vastly enlarged, +hauled the Mogul freight slowly to the roundhouse. + +"Hello, old man! Bin out all night, hain't ye?" said the +irrepressible Poney, who had just come off duty. "Well, I must say +you look it. Costly-perishable-fragile-immediate - that's you! Go +to the shops, take them vine-leaves out o' your hair, an' git 'em +to play the hose on you." + +"Leave him alone, Poney, " said .007 severely, as he was swung on +the turn-table, "or I'll - " + +"'Didn't know the old granger was any special friend o' yours, kid. +He wasn't over-civil to you last time I saw him." + +"I know it; but I've seen a wreck since then, and it has about scared +the paint off me. I'm not going to guy anyone as long as I steam - +not when they're new to the business an' anxious to learn. And I'm +not goin' to guy the old Mogul either, though I did find him wreathed +around with roastin'-ears. 'T was a little bit of a shote - not a +hog - just a shote, Poney - no bigger'n a lump of anthracite - I saw +it - that made all the mess. Anybody can be ditched, I guess." + +"Found that out already, have you? Well, that's a good beginnin'." +It was the Purple Emperor, with his high, tight, plate-glass cab and +green velvet cushion, waiting to be cleaned for his next day's fly. + +"Let me make you two gen'lemen acquainted," said Poney. "This is +our Purple Emperor, kid, whom you were admirin' and, I may say, +envyin' last night. This is a new brother, worshipful sir, with +most of his mileage ahead of him, but, so far as a serving-brother +can, I'll answer for him.' + +"'Happy to meet you," said the Purple Emperor, with a glance round +the crowded round-house. "I guess there are enough of us here to +form a full meetin'. Ahem! By virtue of the authority vested in +me as Head of the Road, I hereby declare and pronounce No. .007 a +full and accepted Brother of the Amalgamated Brotherhood of +Locomotives, and as such entitled to all shop, switch, track, tank, +and round-house privileges throughout my jurisdiction, in the Degree +of Superior Flier, it bein' well known and credibly reported to me +that our Brother has covered forty-one miles in thirty-nine minutes +and a half on an errand of mercy to the afflicted. At a convenient +time, I myself will communicate to you the Song and Signal of this +Degree whereby you may be recognised in the darkest night. Take +your stall, newly entered Brother among Locomotives! " + + * * * * * * * * * * * * * + +Now, in the darkest night, even as the Purple Emperor said, if you +will stand on the bridge across the freightyard, looking down upon +the four-track way, at 2:30 A. M., neither before nor after, when +the White Moth, that takes the overflow from the Purple Emperor, +tears south with her seven vestibuled cream-white cars, you will +hear, as the yard-clock makes the half-hour, a far-away sound like +the bass of a violoncello, and then, a hundred feet to each word + + "With a michnai - ghignai - shtingal! Yah! Yah! Yah! + Ein - zwei - drei - Mutter! Yah! Yah! Yah! + She climb upon der shteeple, + Und she frighten all der people, + Singin' michnai - ghignai - shtingal! Yah! Yah!" + +That is .007 covering his one hundred and fifty-six miles in two +hundred and twenty-one minutes. + + + + +THE MALTESE CAT + +They had good reason to be proud, and better reason to be afraid, +all twelve of them; for though they had fought their way, game by +game, up the teams entered for the polo tournament, they were +meeting theArchangels that afternoon in the final match; and the +Archangels men were playing with half a dozen ponies apiece. As +the game was divided into six quarters of eight minutes each, that +meant a fresh pony after every halt. The Skidars' team, even +supposing there were no accidents, could only supply one pony for +every other change; and two to one is heavy odds. Again, as Shiraz, +the grey Syrian, pointed out, they were meeting the pink and pick +of the polo-ponies of Upper India, ponies that had cost from a +thousand rupees each, while they themselves were a cheap lot +gathered, often from country-carts, by their masters, who belonged +to a poor but honest native infantry regiment. + +"Money means pace and weight," said Shiraz, rubbing his black-silk +nose dolefully along his neat-fitting boot, "and by the maxims of +the game as I know it - " + +"Ah, but we aren't playing the maxims," said The Maltese Cat. "We're +playing the game; and we've the great advantage of knowing the game. +Just think a stride, Shiraz! We've pulled up from bottom to second +place in two weeks against all those fellows on the ground here. +That's because we play with our heads as well as our feet." + +"It makes me feel undersized and unhappy all the same," said Kittiwynk, +a mouse-coloured mare with a red brow-band and the cleanest pair of +legs that ever an aged pony owned. "They've twice our style, these +others." + +Kittiwynk looked at the gathering and sighed. The hard, dusty +polo-ground was lined with thousands of soldiers, black and white, +not counting hundreds and hundreds of carriages and drags and +dogcarts, and ladies with brilliant-coloured parasols, and officers +in uniform and out of it, and crowds of natives behind them; and +orderlies on camels, who had halted to watch the game, instead of +carrying letters up and down the station; and native horse-dealers +running about on thin-eared Biluchi mares, looking for a chance to +sell a few first-class polo-ponies. Then there were the ponies of +thirty teams that had entered for the Upper India Free-for-All Cup + - nearly every pony of worth and dignity, from Mhow to Peshawar, +from Allahabad to Multan; prize ponies, Arabs, Syrian, Barb, +country-bred, Deccanee, Waziri, and Kabul ponies of every colour +and shape and temper that you could imagine. Some of them were in +mat-roofed stables, close to the polo-ground, but most were under +saddle, while their masters, who had been defeated in the earlier +games, trotted in and out and told the world exactly how the game +should be played. + +It was a glorious sight, and the come and go of the little, quick +hooves, and the incessant salutations of ponies that had met before +on other polo-grounds or race-courses were enough to drive a +four-footed thing wild. + +But the Skidars' team were careful not to know their neighbours, +though half the ponies on the ground were anxious to scrape +acquaintance with the little fellows that had come from the North, +and, so far, had swept the board. + +"Let's see," said a soft gold-coloured Arab, who had been playing +very badly the day before, to The Maltese Cat; "didn't we meet in +Abdul Rahman's stable in Bombay, four seasons ago? I won the +Paikpattan Cup next season, you may remember?" + +"Not me," said The Maltese Cat, politely. "I was at Malta then, +pulling a vegetable-cart. I don't race. I play the game." + +"Oh! " said the Arab, cocking his tail and swaggering off. + +"Keep yourselves to yourselves," said The Maltese Cat to his +companions. "We don't want to rub noses with all those goose-rumped +half-breeds of Upper India. When we've won this Cup they'll give +their shoes to know us." + +"We sha'n't win the Cup," said Shiraz. "How do you feel?" + +"Stale as last night's feed when a muskrat has run over it," said +Polaris, a rather heavy-shouldered grey; and the rest of the team +agreed with him. + +"The sooner you forget that the better," said The Maltese Cat, +cheerfully. "They've finished tiffin in the big tent. We shall be +wanted now. If your saddles are not comfy, kick. If your bits +aren't easy, rear, and let the saises know whether your boots are +tight." + +Each pony had his sais, his groom, who lived and ate and slept with +the animal, and had betted a good deal more than he could afford on +the result of the game. There was no chance of anything going wrong, +but to make sure, each sais was shampooing the legs of his pony to +the last minute. Behind the saises sat as many of the Skidars' +regiment as had leave to attend the match - about half the native +officers, and a hundred or two dark, black-bearded men with the +regimental pipers nervously fingering the big, beribboned bagpipes. +The Skidars were what they call a Pioneer regiment, and the bagpipes +made the national music of half their men. The native officers held +bundles of polo-sticks, long cane-handled mallets, and as the grand +stand filled after lunch they arranged themselves by ones and twos +at different points round the ground, so that if a stick were broken +the player would not have far to ride for a new one. An impatient +British Cavalry Band struck up "If you want to know the time, ask a +p'leeceman!" and the two umpires in light dust-coats danced out on +two little excited ponies. The four players of the Archangels' team +followed, and the sight of their beautiful mounts made Shiraz groan +again. + +"Wait till we know," said The Maltese Cat. "Two of 'em are playing +in blinkers, and that means they can't see to get out of the way +of their own side, or they may shy at the umpires' ponies. They've +all got white web-reins that are sure to stretch or slip!" + +"And," said Kittiwynk, dancing to take the stiffness out of her, +"they carry their whips in their hands instead of on their wrists. +Hah!" + +"True enough. No man can manage his stick and his reins and his +whip that way," said The Maltese Cat. "I've fallen over every +square yard of the Malta ground, and I ought to know." + +He quivered his little, flea-bitten withers just to show how +satisfied he felt; but his heart was not so light. Ever since he +had drifted into India on a troop-ship, taken, with an old rifle, +as part payment for a racing debt, The Maltese Cat had played and +preached polo to the Skidars' team on the Skidars' stony pologround. +Now a polo-pony is like a poet. If he is born with a love for the +game, he can be made. The Maltese Cat knew that bamboos grew +solely in order that poloballs might be turned from their roots, +that grain was given to ponies to keep them in hard condition, and +that ponies were shod to prevent them slipping on a turn. But, +besides all these things, he knew every trick and device of the +finest game in the world, and for two seasons had been teaching +the others all he knew or guessed. + +"Remember," he said for the hundredth time, as the riders came up, +"you must play together, and you must play with your heads. Whatever +happens, follow the ball. Who goes out first?" + +Kittiwynk, Shiraz, Polaris, and a short high little bay fellow with +tremendous hocks and no withers worth speaking of (he was called +Corks) were being girthed up, and the soldiers in the background +stared with all their eyes. + +"I want you men to keep quiet," said Lutyens, the captain of the +team, "and especially not to blow your pipes." + +"Not if we win, Captain Sahib?" asked the piper. + +"If we win you can do what you please," said Lutyens, with a smile, +as he slipped the loop of his stick over his wrist, and wheeled to +canter to his place. The Archangels' ponies were a little bit above +themselves on account of the many-coloured crowd so close to the +ground. Their riders were excellent players, but they were a team +of crack players instead of a crack team; and that made all the +difference in the world. They honestly meant to play together, but +it is very hard for four men, each the best of the team he is picked +from, to remember that in polo no brilliancy in hitting or riding +makes up for playing alone. Their captain shouted his orders to +them by name, and it is a curious thing that if you call his name +aloud in public after an Englishman you make him hot and fretty. +Lutyens said nothing to his men, because it had all been said before. +He pulled up Shiraz, for he was playing "back," to guard the goal. +Powell on Polaris was half-back, and Macnamara and Hughes on Corks +and Kittiwynk were forwards. The tough, bamboo ball was set in the +middle of the ground, one hundred and fifty yards from the ends, +and Hughes crossed sticks, heads up, with the Captain of the +Archangels, who saw fit to play forward; that is a place from which +you cannot easily control your team. The little click as the +cane-shafts met was heard all over the ground, and then Hughes made +some sort of quick wrist-stroke that just dribbled the ball a +few yards. Kittiwynk knew that stroke of old, and followed as a +cat follows a mouse. While the Captain of the Archangels was +wrenching his pony round, Hughes struck with all his strength, and +next instant Kittiwynk was away, Corks following close behind her, +their little feet pattering like raindrops on glass. + +" Pull out to the left," said Kittiwynk between her teeth; "it's +coming your way, Corks!" + +The back and half-back of the Archangels were tearing down on her +just as she was within reach of the ball. Hughes leaned forward +with a loose rein, and cut it away to the left almost under +Kittiwynk's foot, and it hopped and skipped off to Corks, who saw +that, if he was not quick it would run beyond the boundaries. That +long bouncing drive gave the Archangels time to wheel and send +three men across the ground to head off Corks. Kittiwynk stayed +where she was; for she knew the game. Corks was on the ball half +a fraction of a second before the others came up, and Macnamara, +with a backhanded stroke, sent it back across the ground to Hughes, +who saw the way clear to the Archangels' goal, and smacked the +ball in before any one quite knew what had happened. + +"That's luck," said Corks, as they changed ends. "A goal in three +minutes for three hits, and no riding to speak of." + +"'Don't know," said Polaris. "We've made 'em angry too soon. +Shouldn't wonder if they tried to rush us off our feet next time." + +"Keep the ball hanging, then," said Shiraz. "That wears out every +pony that is not used to it." + +Next time there was no easy galloping across the ground. All the +Archangels closed up as one man, but there they stayed, for Corks, +Kittiwynk, and Polaris were somewhere on the top of the ball, +marking time among the rattling sticks, while Shiraz circled about +outside, waiting for a chance. + +"We can do this all day," said Polaris, ramming his quarters into +the side of another pony. "Where do you think you're shoving to?" + +"I'll - I'll be driven in an ekka if I know," was the gasping reply, +"and I'd give a week's feed to get my blinkers off. I can't see +anything." + +"The dust is rather bad. Whew! That was one for my off-hock. +Where's the ball, Corks?" + +"Under my tail. At least, the man's looking for it there! This is +beautiful. They can't use their sticks, and it's driving 'em wild. +Give old Blinkers a push and then he'll go over." + +"Here, don't touch me! I can't see. I'll - I'll back out, I think," +said the pony in blinkers, who knew that if you can't see all round +your head, you cannot prop yourself against the shock. + +Corks was watching the ball where it lay in the dust, close to his +near fore-leg, with Macnamara's shortened stick tap-tapping it from +time to time. Kittiwynk was edging her way out of the scrimmage, +whisking her stump of a tail with nervous excitement. + +"Ho! They've got it," she snorted. "Let me out!" and she galloped +like a rifle-bullet just behind a tall lanky pony of the Archangels, +whose rider was swinging up his stick for a stroke. + +"Not to-day, thank you," said Hughes, as the blow slid off his +raised stick, and Kittiwynk laid her shoulder to the tall pony's +quarters, and shoved him aside just as Lutyens on Shiraz sent the +ball where it had come from, and the tall pony went skating and +slipping away to the left. Kittiwynk, seeing that Polaris had +joined Corks in the chase for the ball up the ground, dropped into +Polaris' place, and then "time" was called. + +The Skidars' ponies wasted no time in kicking or fuming. They knew +that each minute's rest meant so much gain, and trotted off to the +rails, and their saises began to scrape and blanket and rub them at +once. + +"Whew!" said Corks, stiffening up to get all the tickle of the big +vulcanite scraper. "If we were playing pony for pony, we would bend +those Archangels double in half an hour. But they'll bring up fresh +ones and fresh ones and fresh ones after that - you see." + +"Who cares?" said Polaris. "We've drawn first blood. Is my hock +swelling?" + +"Looks puffy," said Corks. "You must have had rather a wipe. Don't +let it stiffen. You 'll be wanted again in half an hour." + +What's the game like?" said The Maltese Cat. + +"'Ground's like your shoe, except where they put too much water on +it," said Kittiwynk. "Then it's slippery. Don't play in the centre. +There's a bog there. I don't know how their next four are going to +behave, but we kept the ball hanging, and made 'em lather for +nothing. Who goes out? Two Arabs and a couple of country-breds! +That's bad. What a comfort it is to wash your mouth out!" + +Kitty was talking with a neck of a lather-covered soda-water bottle +between her teeth, and trying to look over her withers at the same +time. This gave her a very coquettish air. + +"What's bad?" said Grey Dawn, giving to the girth and admiring his +well-set shoulders. + +"You Arabs can't gallop fast enough to keep yourselves warm - that's +what Kitty means," said Polaris, limping to show that his hock +needed attention. "Are you playing back, Grey Dawn?" + +"'Looks like it," said Grey Dawn, as Lutyens swung himself up. +Powell mounted The Rabbit, a plain bay country-bred much like Corks, +but with mulish ears. Macnamara took Faiz-Ullah, a handy, +short-backed little red Arab with a long tail, and Hughes mounted +Benami, an old and sullen brown beast, who stood over in front more +than a polo-pony should. + +"Benami looks like business," said Shiraz. "How's your temper, Ben?" +The old campaigner hobbled off without answering, and The Maltese +Cat looked at the new Archangel ponies prancing about on the ground. +They were four beautiful blacks, and they saddled big enough and +strong enough to eat the Skidars' team and gallop away with the meal +inside them. + +"Blinkers again," said The Maltese Cat. "Good enough!" + +"They're chargers-cavalry chargers!" said Kittiwynk, indignantly. +"They'll never see thirteen-three again." + +"They've all been fairly measured, and they've all got their +certificates," said The Maltese Cat, " or they wouldn't be here. +We must take things as they come along, and keep your eyes on the +ball." + +The game began, but this time the Skidars were penned to their own +end of the ground, and the watching ponies did not approve of that. + +"Faiz-Ullah is shirking - as usual," said Polaris, with a scornful +grunt. + +"Faiz-Ullah is eating whip," said Corks. They could hear the +leather-thonged polo-quirt lacing the little fellow's well-rounded +barrel. Then The Rabbit's shrill neigh came across the ground. + +"I can't do all the work," he cried, desperately. + +"Play the game - don't talk," The Maltese Cat whickered; and all +the ponies wriggled with excitement, and the soldiers and the grooms +gripped the railings and shouted. A black pony with blinkers had +singled out old Benami, and was interfering with him in every +possible way. They could see Benami shaking his head up and down, +and flapping his under lip. + +"There'll be a fall in a minute, " said Polaris. "Benami is getting +stuffy." + +The game flickered up and down between goal-post and goal-post, and +the black ponies were getting more confident as they felt they had +the legs of the others. The ball was hit out of a little scrimmage, +and Benami and The Rabbit followed it, Faiz-Ullah only too glad to +be quiet for an instant. + +The blinkered black pony came up like a hawk, with two of his own +side behind him, and Benami's eye glittered as he raced. The +question was which pony should make way for the other, for each +rider was perfectly willing to risk a fall in a good cause. The +black, who had been driven nearly crazy by his blinkers, trusted +to his weight and his temper; but Benami knew how to apply his +weight and how to keep his temper. They met, and there was a cloud +of dust. The black was lying on his side, all the breath knocked +out of his body. The Rabbit was a hundred yards up the ground with +the ball, and Benami was sitting down. He had slid nearly ten yards +on his tail, but he had had his revenge, and sat cracking his +nostrils till the black pony rose. + +"That's what you get for interfering. Do you want any more?" said +Benami, and he plunged into the game. Nothing was done that quarter, +because Faiz-Ullah would not gallop, though Macnamara beat him +whenever he could spare a second. The fall of the black pony had +impressed his companions tremendously, and so the Archangels could +not profit by Faiz-Ullah's bad behaviour. + +But as The Maltese Cat said when "time" was called, and the four +came back blowing and dripping, Faiz-Ullah ought to have been kicked +all round Umballa. If he did not behave better next time The +Maltese Cat promised to pull out his Arab tail by the roots and + - eat it. + +There was no time to talk, for the third four were ordered out. + +The third quarter of a game is generally the hottest, for each side +thinks that the others must be pumped; and most of the winning play +in a game is made about that time. + +Lutyens took over The Maltese Cat with a pat and a hug, for Lutyens +valued him more than anything else in the world; Powell had Shikast, +a little grey rat with no pedigree and no manners outside polo; +Macnamara mounted Bamboo, the largest of the team; and Hughes +Who's Who, alias The Animal. He was supposed to have Australian +blood in his veins, but he looked like a clothes-horse, and you +could whack his legs with an iron crow-bar without hurting him. + +They went out to meet the very flower of the Archangels' team; and +when Who's Who saw their elegantly booted legs and their beautiful +satin skins, he grinned a grin through his light, well-worn bridle. + +"My word!" said Who's Who. "We must give 'em a little football. +These gentlemen need a rubbing down." + +"No biting," said The Maltese Cat, warningly; for once or twice in +his career Who's Who had been known to forget himself in that way. + +"Who said anything about biting? I'm not playing tiddly-winks. +I'm playing the game." + +The Archangels came down like a wolf on the fold, for they were +tired of football, and they wanted polo. They got it more and more. +Just after the game began, Lutyens hit a ball that was coming towards +him rapidly, and it rolled in the air, as a ball sometimes will, with +the whirl of a frightened partridge. Shikast heard, but could not +see it for the minute, though he looked everywhere and up into the +air as The Maltese Cat had taught him. When he saw it ahead and +overhead he went forward with Powell as fast as he could put foot to +ground. It was then that Powell, a quiet and level-headed man, as +a rule, became inspired, and played a stroke that sometimes comes +off successfully after long practice. He took his stick in both +hands, and, standing up in his stirrups, swiped at the ball in the +air, Munipore fashion. There was one second of paralysed +astonishment, and then all four sides of the ground went up in a +yell of applause and delight as the ball flew true (you could see +the amazed Archangels ducking in their saddles to dodge the line of +flight, and looking at it with open mouths), and the regimental pipes +of the Skidars squealed from the railings as long as the pipers had +breath. Shikast heard the stroke; but he heard the head of the +stick fly off at the same time. Nine hundred and ninety-nine ponies +out of a thousand would have gone tearing on after the ball with a +useless player pulling at their heads; but Powell knew him, and he +knew Powell; and the instant he felt Powell's right leg shift a +trifle on the saddle-flap, he headed to the boundary, where a +native officer was frantically waving a new stick. Before the +shouts had ended, Powell was armed again. + +Once before in his life The Maltese Cat had heard that very same +stroke played off his own back, and had profited by the confusion +it wrought. This time he acted on experience, and leaving Bamboo +to guard the goal in case of accidents, came through the others like +a flash, head and tail low - Lutyens standing up to ease him - swept +on and on before the other side knew what was the matter, and nearly +pitched on his head between the Archangels' goal-post as Lutyens +kicked the ball in after a straight scurry of a hundred and fifty +yards. If there was one thing more than another upon which The +Maltese Cat prided himself, it was on this quick, streaking kind of +run half across the ground. He did not believe in taking balls +round the field unless you were clearly overmatched. After this +they gave the Archangels five-minuted football; and an expensive +fast pony hates football because it rumples his temper. Who's Who +showed himself even better than Polaris in this game. He did not +permit any wriggling away, but bored joyfully into the scrimmage as +if he had his nose in a feed-box and was looking for something nice. +Little Shikast jumped on the ball the minute it got clear, and +every time an Archangel pony followed it, he found Shikast standing +over it, asking what was the matter. + +"If we can live through this quarter," said The Maltese Cat, "I +sha'n't care. Don't take it out of yourselves. Let them do the +lathering." + +So the ponies, as their riders explained afterwards, "shut-up." +The Archangels kept them tied fast in front of their goal, but it +cost the Archangels' ponies all that was left of their tempers; and +ponies began to kick, and men began to repeat compliments, and they +chopped at the legs of Who's Who, and he set his teeth and stayed +where he was, and the dust stood up like a tree over the scrimmage +until that hot quarter ended. + +They found the ponies very excited and confident when they went to +their saises; and The Maltese Cat had to warn them that the worst +of the game was coming. + +"Now we are all going in for the second time," said he, "and they +are trotting out fresh ponies. You think you can gallop, but you'll +find you can't; and then you'll be sorry." + +"But two goals to nothing is a halter-long lead," said Kittiwynk, +prancing. + +"How long does it take to get a goal?" The Maltese Cat answered. +"For pity's sake, don't run away with a notion that the game is +half-won just because we happen to be in luck now! They'll ride +you into the grand stand, if they can; you must not give 'em a +chance. Follow the ball." + +"Football, as usual?" said Polaris. "My hock's half as big as a +nose-bag." + +"Don't let them have a look at the ball, if you can help it. Now +leave me alone. I must get all the rest I can before the last +quarter." + +He hung down his head and let all his muscles go slack, Shikast, +Bamboo, and Who's Who copying his example. + +"Better not watch the game," he said. "We aren't playing, and we +shall only take it out of ourselves if we grow anxious. Look at +the ground and pretend it's fly-time." + +They did their best, but it was hard advice to follow. The hooves +were drumming and the sticks were rattling all up and down the +ground, and yells of applause from the English troops told that +the Archangels were pressing the Skidars hard. The native soldiers +behind the ponies groaned and grunted, and said things in undertones, +and presently they heard a long-drawn shout and a clatter of hurrahs! + +"One to the Archangels," said Shikast, without raising his head. +"Time's nearly up. Oh, my sire and dam!" + +"Faiz-Ullah," said The Maltese Cat, "if you don't play to the last +nail in your shoes this time, I'll kick you on the ground before all +the other ponies." + +"I'll do my best when my time comes," said the little Arab, sturdily. + +The saises looked at each other gravely as they rubbed their ponies' +legs. This was the time when long purses began to tell, and +everybody knew it. Kittiwynk and the others came back, the sweat +dripping over their hooves and their tails telling sad stories. + +"They're better than we are," said Shiraz. "I knew how it would be." + +"Shut your big head," said The Maltese Cat; "we've one goal to the +good yet." + +"Yes; but it's two Arabs and two country-breds to play now," said +Corks. "Faiz-Ullah, remember!" He spoke in a biting voice. + +As Lutyens mounted Grey Dawn he looked at his men, and they did not +look pretty. They were covered with dust and sweat in streaks. +Their yellow boots were almost black, their wrists were red and +lumpy, and their eyes seemed two inches deep in their heads; but +the expression in the eyes was satisfactory. + +"Did you take anything at tiffin?" said Lutyens; and the team shook +their heads. They were too dry to talk. + +"All right. The Archangels did. They are worse pumped than we are." + +"They've got the better ponies," said Powell. "I sha'n't be sorry +when this business is over." + +That fifth quarter was a painful one in every way. Faiz-Ullah +played like a little red demon, and The Rabbit seemed to be +everywhere at once, and Benami rode straight at anything and +everything that came in his way; while the umpires on their ponies +wheeled like gulls outside the shifting game. But the Archangels +had the better mounts, - they had kept their racers till late in +the game, - and never allowed the Skidars to play football. They +hit the ball up and down the width of the ground till Benami and +the rest were outpaced. Then they went forward, and time and again +Lutyens and Grey Dawn were just, and only just, able to send the +ball away with a long, spitting backhander. Grey Dawn forgot that +he was an Arab; and turned from grey to blue as he galloped. Indeed, +he forgot too well, for he did not keep his eyes on the ground as +an Arab should, but stuck out his nose and scuttled for the dear +honour of the game. They had watered the ground once or twice +between the quarters, and a careless waterman had emptied the last +of his skinful all in one place near the Skidars' goal. It was +close to the end of the play, and for the tenth time Grey Dawn was +bolting after the ball, when his near hind-foot slipped on the +greasy mud, and he rolled over and over, pitching Lutyens just clear +of the goal-post; and the triumphant Archangels made their goal. +Then "time" was called-two goals all; but Lutyens had to be helped +up, and Grey Dawn rose with his near hind-leg strained somewhere. + +"What's the damage?" said Powell, his arm around Lutyens. + +"Collar-bone, of course," said Lutyens, between his teeth. It was +the third time he had broken it in two years, and it hurt him. + +Powell and the others whistled. + +"Game's up," said Hughes. + +"Hold on. We've five good minutes yet, and it isn't my right hand. +We 'll stick it out." + +"I say," said the Captain of the Archangels, trotting up, "are you +hurt, Lutyens? We'll wait if you care to put in a substitute. I +wish - I mean - the fact is, you fellows deserve this game if any +team does. 'Wish we could give you a man, or some of our ponies - +or something." + +"You 're awfully good, but we'll play it to a finish, I think." + +The Captain of the Archangels stared for a little. "That's not half +bad," he said, and went back to his own side, while Lutyens borrowed +a scarf from one of his native officers and made a sling of it. Then +an Archangel galloped up with a big bath-sponge, and advised Lutyens +to put it under his armpit to ease his shoulder, and between them +they tied up his left arm scientifically; and one of the native +officers leaped forward with four long glasses that fizzed and bubbled. + +The team looked at Lutyens piteously, and he nodded. It was the +last quarter, and nothing would matter after that. They drank out the +dark golden drink, and wiped their moustaches, and things looked more +hopeful. + +The Maltese Cat had put his nose into the front of Lutyens' shirt +and was trying to say how sorry he was. + +"He knows," said Lutyens, proudly. "The beggar knows. I've played +him without a bridle before now - for fun." + +"It's no fun now," said Powell. "But we haven't a decent substitute." + +"No," said Lutyens. "It's the last quarter, and we've got to make +our goal and win. I'll trust The Cat." + +"If you fall this time, you'll suffer a little," said Macnamara. + +"I'll trust The Cat," said Lutyens. + +"You hear that?" said The Maltese Cat, proudly, to the others. +"It's worth while playing polo for ten years to have that said of +you. Now then, my sons, come along. We'll kick up a little bit, +just to show the Archangels this team haven't suffered." + +And, sure enough, as they went on to the ground, The Maltese Cat, +after satisfying himself that Lutyens was home in the saddle, +kicked out three or four times, and Lutyens laughed. The reins +were caught up anyhow in the tips of his strapped left hand, and +he never pretended to rely on them. He knew The Cat would answer +to the least pressure of the leg, and by way of showing off - for +his shoulder hurt him very much - he bent the little fellow in a +close figure-of-eight in and out between the goal-posts. There +was a roar from the native officers and men, who dearly loved a +piece of dugabashi (horse-trick work), as they called it, and the +pipes very quietly and scornfully droned out the first bars of a +common bazaar tune called "Freshly Fresh and Newly New," just as +a warning to the other regiments that the Skidars were fit. All +the natives laughed. + +"And now," said The Maltese Cat, as they took their place, "remember +that this is the last quarter, and follow the ball!" + +"Don't need to be told," said Who's Who. + +"Let me go on. All those people on all four sides will begin to +crowd in - just as they did at Malta. You'll hear people calling +out, and moving forward and being pushed back; and that is going to +make the Archangel ponies very unhappy. But if a ball is struck +to the boundary, you go after it, and let the people get out of +your way. I went over the pole of a four-in-hand once, and picked +a game out of the dust by it. Back me up when I run, and follow +the ball." + +There was a sort of an all-round sound of sympathy and wonder as +the last quarter opened, and then there began exactly what The +Maltese Cat had foreseen. People crowded in close to the boundaries, +and the Archangels' ponies kept looking sideways at the narrowing +space. If you know how a man feels to be cramped at tennis - not +because he wants to run out of the court, but because he likes to +know that he can at a pinch - you will guess how ponies must feel +when they are playing in a box of human beings. + +"I'll bend some of those men if I can get away," said Who's Who, as +he rocketed behind the ball; and Bamboo nodded without speaking. +They were playing the last ounce in them, and The Maltese Cat had +left the goal undefended to join them. Lutyens gave him every order +that he could to bring him back, but this was the first time in his +career that the little wise grey had ever played polo on his own +responsibility, and he was going to make the most of it. + +"What are you doing here?" said Hughes, as The Cat crossed in front +of him and rode off an Archangel. + +"The Cat's in charge - mind the goal!" shouted Lutyens, and bowing +forward hit the ball full, and followed on, forcing the Archangels +towards their own goal. + +"No football," said The Maltese Cat. "Keep the ball by the +boundaries and cramp 'em. Play open order, and drive 'em to the +boundaries." + +Across and across the ground in big diagonals flew the ball, and +whenever it came to a flying rush and a stroke close to the +boundaries the Archangel ponies moved stiffly. They did not +care to go headlong at a wall of men and carriages, though if +the ground had been open they could have turned on a sixpence. + +"Wriggle her up the sides," said The Cat. "Keep her close to the +crowd. They hate the carriages. Shikast, keep her up this side." + +Shikast and Powell lay left and right behind the uneasy scuffle of +an open scrimmage, and every time the ball was hit away Shikast +galloped on it at such an angle that Powell was forced to hit it +towards the boundary; and when the crowd had been driven away from +that side, Lutyens would send the ball over to the other, and +Shikast would slide desperately after it till his friends came +down to help. It was billiards, and no football, this time - +billiards in a corner pocket; and the cues were not well chalked. + +"If they get us out in the middle of the ground they'll walk away +from us. Dribble her along the sides," cried The Maltese Cat. + +So they dribbled all along the boundary, where a pony could not come +on their right-hand side; and the Archangels were furious, and the +umpires had to neglect the game to shout at the people to get back, +and several blundering mounted policemen tried to restore order, +all close to the scrimmage, and the nerves of the Archangels' +ponies stretched and broke like cob-webs. + +Five or six times an Archangel hit the ball up into the middle of +the ground, and each time the watchful Shikast gave Powell his +chance to send it back, and after each return, when the dust had +settled, men could see that the Skidars had gained a few yards. + +Every now and again there were shouts of "Side! Off side!" from +the spectators; but the teams were too busy to care, and the +umpires had all they could do to keep their maddened ponies clear +of the scuffle. + +At last Lutyens missed a short easy stroke, and the Skidars had to +fly back helter-skelter to protect their own goal, Shikast leading. +Powell stopped the ball with a backhander when it was not fifty +yards from the goalposts, and Shikast spun round with a wrench that +nearly hoisted Powell out of his saddle. + +"Now's our last chance," said The Cat, wheeling like a cockchafer +on a pin. "We've got to ride it out. Come along." + +Lutyens felt the little chap take a deep breath, and, as it were, +crouch under his rider. The ball was hopping towards the right-hand +boundary, an Archangel riding for it with both spurs and a whip; +but neither spur nor whip would make his pony stretch himself as +he neared the crowd. The Maltese Cat glided under his very nose, +picking up his hind legs sharp, for there was not a foot to spare +between his quarters and the other pony's bit. It was as neat an +exhibition as fancy figure-skating. Lutyens hit with all the +strength he had left, but the stick slipped a little in his hand, +and the ball flew off to the left instead of keeping close to the +boundary. Who's Who was far across the ground, thinking hard as +he galloped. He repeated stride for stride The Cat's manoeuvres +with another Archangel pony, nipping the ball away from under his +bridle, and clearing his opponent by half a fraction of an inch, +for Who's Who was clumsy behind. Then he drove away towards the +right as The Maltese Cat came up from the left; and Bamboo held a +middle course exactly between them. The three were making a sort +of Government-broad-arrow-shaped attack; and there was only the +Archangels' back to guard the goal; but immediately behind them +were three Archangels racing all they knew, and mixed up with +them was Powell sending Shikast along on what he felt was their +last hope. It takes a very good man to stand up to the rush of +seven crazy ponies in the last quarters of a Cup game, when men +are riding with their necks for sale, and the ponies are delirious. +The Archangels' back missed his stroke and pulled aside just in +time to let the rush go by. Bamboo and Who's Who shortened +stride to give The Cat room, and Lutyens got the goal with a clean, +smooth, smacking stroke that was heard all over the field. But +there was no stopping the ponies. They poured through the goalposts +in one mixed mob, winners and losers together, for the pace had been +terrific. The Maltese Cat knew by experience what would happen, +and, to save Lutyens, turned to the right with one last effort, that +strained a back-sinew beyond hope of repair. As he did so he heard +the right-hand goalpost crack as a pony cannoned into it - crack, +splinter and fall like a mast. It had been sawed three parts +through in case of accidents, but it upset the pony nevertheless, +and he blundered into another, who blundered into the left-hand +post, and then there was confusion and dust and wood. Bamboo was +lying on the ground, seeing stars; an Archangel pony rolled beside +him, breathless and angry; Shikast had sat down dog-fashion to +avoid falling over the others, and was sliding along on his little +bobtail in a cloud of dust; and Powell was sitting on the ground, +hammering with his stick and trying to cheer. All the others were +shouting at the top of what was left of their voices, and the men +who had been spilt were shouting too. As soon as the people saw +no one was hurt, ten thousand native and English shouted and clapped +and yelled, and before any one could stop them the pipers of the +Skidars broke on to the ground, with all the native officers and +men behind them, and marched up and down, playing a wild Northern +tune called "Zakhme Began," and through the insolent blaring of +the pipes and the high-pitched native yells you could hear the +Archangels' band hammering, "For they are all jolly good fellows," +and then reproachfully to the losing team, "Ooh, Kafoozalum! +Kafoozalum! Kafoozalum!" + +Besides all these things and many more, there was a +Commander-in-chief, and an Inspector-General of Cavalry, and the +principal veterinary officer of all India standing on the top of a +regimental coach, yelling like school-boys; and brigadiers and +colonels and commissioners, and hundreds of pretty ladies joined +the chorus. But The Maltese Cat stood with his head down, +wondering how many legs were left to him; and Lutyens watched the +men and ponies pick themselves out of the wreck of the two +goal-posts, and he patted The Maltese Cat very tenderly. + +" I say," said the Captain of the Archangels, spitting a pebble out +of his mouth, "will you take three thousand for that pony - as he +stands?" + +"No thank you. I've an idea he's saved my life," said Lutyens, +getting off and lying down at full length. Both teams were on the +ground too, waving their boots in the air, and coughing and drawing +deep breaths, as the saises ran up to take away the ponies, and an +officious water-carrier sprinkled the players with dirty water till +they sat up. + +"My aunt!" said Powell, rubbing his back, and looking at the stumps +of the goal-posts, "That was a game!" + +They played it over again, every stroke of it, that night at the +big dinner, when the Free-for-All Cup was filled and passed down +the table, and emptied and filled again, and everybody made most +eloquent speeches. About two in the morning, when there might have +been some singing, a wise little, plain little, grey little head +looked in through the open door. + +"Hurrah! Bring him in," said the Archangels; and his sais, who was +very happy indeed, patted The Maltese Cat on the flank, and he limped +in to the blaze of light and the glittering uniforms, looking for +Lutyens. He was used to messes, and men's bedrooms, and places +where ponies are not usually encouraged, and in his youth had jumped +on and off a mess-table for a bet. So he behaved himself very +politely, and ate bread dipped in salt, and was petted all round the +table, moving gingerly; and they drank his health, because he had +done more to win the Cup than any man or horse on the ground. + +That was glory and honour enough for the rest of his days, and The +Maltese Cat did not complain much when the veterinary surgeon said +that he would be no good for polo any more. When Lutyens married, +his wife did not allow him to play, so he was forced to be an +umpire; and his pony on these occasions was a flea-bitten grey with +a neat polo-tail, lame all round, but desperately quick on his feet, +and, as everybody knew, Past Pluperfect Prestissimo Player of the +Game. + +"BREAD UPON THE WATERS" + + +If you remember my improper friend Brugglesmith, you will also bear +in mind his friend McPhee, Chief Engineer of the Breslau, whose +dingey Brugglesmith tried to steal. His apologies for the +performances of Brugglesmith may one day be told in their proper +place: the tale before us concerns McPhee. He was never a racing +engineer, and took special pride in saying as much before the +Liverpool men; but he had a thirty-two years' knowledge of machinery +and the humours of ships. One side of his face had been wrecked +through the bursting of a pressure-gauge in the days when men knew +less than they do now, and his nose rose grandly out of the wreck, +like a club in a public riot. There were cuts and lumps on his +head, and he would guide your forefinger through his short +iron-grey hair and tell you how he had come by his trade-marks. He +owned all sorts of certificates of extra-competency, and at the +bottom of his cabin chest of drawers, where he kept the photograph +of his wife, were two or three Royal Humane Society medals for +saving lives at sea. Professionally - it was different when crazy +steerage-passengers jumped overboard - professionally, McPhee does +not approve of saving life at sea, and he has often told me that a +new Hell awaits stokers and trimmers who sign for a strong man's +pay and fall sick the second day out. He believes in throwing boots +at fourth and fifth engineers when they wake him up at night with +word that a bearing is redhot, all because a lamp's glare is +reflected red from the twirling metal. He believes that there are +only two poets in the world; one being Robert Burns, of course, +and the other Gerald Massey. When he has time for novels he reads +Wilkie Collins and Charles Reade chiefly the latter - and knows +whole pages of "Very Hard Cash" by heart. In the saloon his table +is next to the captain's, and he drinks only water while his +engines work. + +He was good to me when we first met, because I did not ask questions, +and believed in Charles Reade as a most shamefully neglected author. +Later he approved of my writings to the extent of one pamphlet of +twenty-four pages that I wrote for Holdock, Steiner & Chase, owners +of the line, when they bought some ventilating patent and fitted it +to the cabins of the Breslau, Spandau, and Koltzau. The purser of +the Breslau recommended me to Holdock's secretary for the job; and +Holdock, who is a Wesleyan Methodist, invited me to his house, and +gave me dinner with the governess when the others had finished, and +placed the plans and specifications in my hand, and I wrote the +pamphlet that same afternoon. It was called "Comfort in the Cabin," +and brought me seven pound ten, cash down - an important sum of +money in those days; and the governess, who was teaching Master +John Holdock his scales, told me that Mrs. Holdock had told her to +keep an eye on me, in case I went away with coats from the hat-rack. +McPhee liked that pamphlet enormously, for it was composed in the +Bouverie-Byzantine style, with baroque and rococo embellishments; +and afterwards he introduced me to Mrs. McPhee, who succeeded Dinah +in my heart; for Dinah was half a world away, and it is wholesome +and antiseptic to love such a woman as Janet McPhee. They lived in +a little twelve-pound house, close to the shipping. When McPhee +was away Mrs. McPhee read the Lloyds column in the papers, and +called on the wives of senior engineers of equal social standing. +Once or twice, too, Mrs. Holdock visited Mrs. McPhee in a brougham +with celluloid fittings, and I have reason to believe that, after +she had played owner's wife long enough, they talked scandal. The +Holdocks lived in an old-fashioned house with a big brick garden +not a mile from the McPhees, for they stayed by their money as their +money stayed by them; and in summer you met their brougham solemnly +junketing by Theydon Bois or Loughton. But I was Mrs. McPhee's +friend, for she allowed me to convoy her westward, sometimes, to +theatres where she sobbed or laughed or shivered with a simple +heart; and she introduced me to a new world of doctors' wives, +captains' wives, and engineers' wives, whose whole talk and thought +centred in and about ships and lines of ships you have never heard +of. There were sailing-ships, with stewards and mahogany and maple +saloons, trading to Australia, taking cargoes of consumptives and +hopeless drunkards for whom a sea-voyage was recommended; there were +frowzy little West African boats, full of rats and cockroaches, +where men died anywhere but in their bunks; there were Brazilian +boats whose cabins could be hired for merchandise, that went out +loaded nearly awash; there were Zanzibar and Mauritius steamers and +wonderful reconstructed boats that plied to the other tide of Borneo. +These were loved and known, for they earned our bread and a little +butter, and we despised the big Atlantic boats, and made fun of the +P. & O. and Orient liners, and swore by our respective owners - +Wesleyan, Baptist, or Presbyterian, as the case might be. + +I had only just come back to England when Mrs. McPhee invited me to +dinner at three o'clock in the afternoon, and the notepaper was +almost bridal in its scented creaminess. When I reached the house +I saw that there were new curtains in the window that must have cost +forty-five shillings a pair; and as Mrs. McPhee drew me into the +little marble-papered hall, she looked at me keenly, and cried: + +"Have ye not heard? What d' ye think o' the hatrack?" + +Now, that hat-rack was oak-thirty shillings, at least. McPhee came +down-stairs with a sober foot - he steps as lightly as a cat, for +all his weight, when he is at sea - and shook hands in a new and +awful manner - a parody of old Holdock's style when he says good-bye +to his skippers. I perceived at once that a legacy had come to him, +but I held my peace, though Mrs. McPhee begged me every thirty +seconds to eat a great deal and say nothing. It was rather a mad +sort of meal, because McPhee and his wife took hold of hands like +little children (they always do after voyages), and nodded and +winked and choked and gurgled, and hardly ate a mouthful. + +A female servant came in and waited; though Mrs. McPhee had told me +time and again that she would thank no one to do her housework +while she had her health. But this was a servant with a cap, and +I saw Mrs. McPhee swell and swell under her garance-coloured gown. +There is no small free-board to Janet McPhee, nor is garance any +subdued tint; and with all this unexplained pride and glory in the +air I felt like watching fireworks without knowing the festival. +When the maid had removed the cloth she brought a pineapple that +would have cost half a guinea at that season (only McPhee has his +own way of getting such things, and a Canton china bowl of dried +lichis, and a glass plate of preserved ginger, and a small jar of +sacred and Imperial chow-chow that perfumed the room. McPhee gets +it from a Dutchman in Java, and I think he doctors it with +liqueurs. But the crown of the feast was some Madeira of the kind +you can only come by if you know the wine and the man. A little +maize-wrapped fig of clotted Madeira cigars went with the wine, and +the rest was a pale blue smoky silence; Janet, in her splendour, +smiling on us two, and patting McPhee's hand. + +"We'll drink," said McPhee, slowly, rubbing his chin, "to the eternal +damnation o' Holdock, Steiner & Chase." + +Of course I answered "Amen," though I had made seven pound ten +shillings out of the firm. McPhee's enemies were mine, and I was +drinking his Madeira. + +"Ye've heard nothing?" said Janet. "Not a word, not a whisper?" + +"Not a word, nor a whisper. On my word, I have not." + +"Tell him, Mac," said she; and that is another proof of Janet's +goodness and wifely love. A smaller woman would have babbled first, +but Janet is five feet nine in her stockings. + +"We're rich," said McPhee. I shook hands all round. + +"We're damned rich," he added. I shook hands all round a second +time. + +"I'll go to sea no more - unless - there's no sayin' - a private +yacht, maybe - wi' a small an' handy auxiliary." + +"It's not enough for that," said Janet. "We're fair rich - +well-to-do, but no more. A new gown for church, and one for the +theatre. We'll have it made west." + +"How much is it? " I asked. + +"Twenty-five thousand pounds." I drew a long breath. "An' I've +been earnin' twenty-five an' twenty pound a month!" + +The last words came away with a roar, as though the wide world was +conspiring to beat him down. + +"All this time I'm waiting," I said. "I know nothing since last +September. Was it left you?" + +They laughed aloud together. "It was left," said McPhee, choking. +" Ou, ay, it was left. That's vara good. Of course it was left. +Janet, d' ye note that? It was left. Now if you'd put that in your +pamphlet it would have been vara jocose. It was left." He slapped +his thigh and roared till the wine quivered in the decanter. + +The Scotch are a great people, but they are apt to hang over a joke +too long, particularly when no one can see the point but themselves. + +"When I rewrite my pamphlet I'll put it in, McPhee. Only I must +know something more first." + +McPhee thought for the length of half a cigar, while Janet caught +my eye and led it round the room to one new thing after another - +the new vine-pattern carpet, the new chiming rustic clock between +the models of the Colombo outrigger-boats, the new inlaid sideboard +with a purple cut-glass flower-stand, the fender of gilt and brass, +and last, the new black-and-gold piano. + +"In October o' last year the Board sacked me," began McPhee. "In +October o' last year the Breslau came in for winter overhaul. She'd +been runnin' eight months - two hunder an' forty days - an' I was +three days makin' up my indents, when she went to dry-dock. All +told, mark you, it was this side o' three hunder pound - to be +preceese, two hunder an' eighty-six pound four shillings. There's +not another man could ha' nursed the Breslau for eight months to +that tune. Never again - never again! They may send their boats to +the bottom, for aught I care." + +"There's no need," said Janet, softly. "We're done wi' Holdock, +Steiner & Chase." + +"It's irritatin', Janet, it's just irritatin'. I ha' been justified +from first to last, as the world knows, but - but I canna forgie 'em. +Ay, wisdom is justified o' her children; an' any other man than me +wad ha' made the indent eight hunder. Hay was our skipper - ye'll +have met him. They shifted him to the Torgau, an' bade me wait for +the Breslau under young Bannister. Ye'll obsairve there'd been a +new election on the Board. I heard the shares were sellin' hither +an' yon, an' the major part of the Board was new to me. The old +Board would ne'er ha' done it. They trusted me. But the new Board +were all for reorganisation. Young Steiner - Steiner's son - the +Jew, was at the bottom of it, an' they did not think it worth their +while to send me word. The first I knew - an' I was Chief Engineer + - was the notice of the line's winter sailin's, and the Breslau +timed for sixteen days between port an' port! Sixteen days, man! +She's a good boat, but eighteen is her summer time, mark you. +Sixteen was sheer flytin', kitin' nonsense, an' so I told young +Bannister. + +"We've got to make it,' he said. 'Ye should not ha' sent in a three +hunder pound indent.' + +"Do they look for their boats to be run on air?' I said. 'The +Board's daft.' + +"'E'en tell 'em so,' he says. 'I'm a married man, an' my fourth's +on the ways now, she says.'" + +"A boy - wi' red hair," Janet put in. Her own hair is the splendid +red-gold that goes with a creamy complexion. + +"My word, I was an angry man that day! Forbye I was fond o' the old +Breslau, I looked for a little consideration from the Board after +twenty years' service. There was Board-meetin' on Wednesday, an' I +slept overnight in the engine-room, takin' figures to support my +case. Well, I put it fair and square before them all. 'Gentlemen,' +I said, 'I've run the Breslau eight seasons, an' I believe there's +no fault to find wi' my wark. But if ye haud to this' - I waggled +the advertisement at 'em -'this that I've never heard of it till I +read it at breakfast, I do assure you on my professional reputation, +she can never do it. That is to say, she can for a while, but at +a risk no thinkin' man would run.' + +"'What the deil d' ye suppose we pass your indents for?' says old +Holdock. 'Man, we're spendin' money like watter.' + +"'I'll leave it in the Board's hands,' I said, 'if two hunder an' +eighty-seven pound is anything beyond right and reason for eight +months.' I might ha' saved my breath, for the Board was new since +the last election, an' there they sat, the damned deevidend-huntin' +ship-chandlers, deaf as the adders o' Scripture. + +"'We must keep faith wi' the public,' said young Steiner. + +"'Keep faith wi' the Breslau, then,' I said. 'She's served you well, +an' your father before you. She'll need her bottom restiffenin', +an' new bed-plates, an' turnin' out the forward boilers, an' +re-turnin' all three cylinders, an' refacin' all guides, to begin +with. It's a three months' job.' + +"'Because one employee is afraid? 'says young Steiner. 'Maybe a +piano in the Chief Engineer's cabin would be more to the point.' + +"I crushed my cap in my hands, an' thanked God we'd no bairns an' +a bit put by. + +"'Understand, gentlemen,' I said. 'If the Breslau is made a +sixteen-day boat, ye'll find another engineer.' + +"'Bannister makes no objection,' said Holdock. + +"'I'm speakin' for myself,' I said. 'Bannister has bairns. 'An' +then I lost my temper. 'Ye can run her into Hell an' out again if +ye pay pilotage,' I said, 'but ye run without me.' + +"'That's insolence,' said young Steiner. + +"'At your pleasure,' I said, turnin' to go. + +"'Ye can consider yourself dismissed. We must preserve discipline +among our employees,' said old Holdock, an' he looked round to see +that the Board was with him. They knew nothin' - God forgie 'em - +an' they nodded me out o' the line after twenty years - after twenty +years. + +"I went out an' sat down by the hall porter to get my wits again. +I'm thinkin' I swore at the Board. Then auld McRimmon - o' +McNaughten & McRimmon - came, oot o' his office, that's on the same +floor, an' looked at me, proppin' up one eyelid wi' his forefinger. +Ye know they call him the Blind Deevil, forbye he onythin' but blind, +an' no deevil in his dealin's wi' me - McRimmon o' the Black Bird Line. + +"'What's here, Mister McPhee? ' said he. + +"I was past prayin' for by then. 'A Chief Engineer sacked after +twenty years' service because he'll not risk the Breslau on the new +timin', an' be damned to ye, McRimmon,' I said. + +"The auld man sucked in his lips an' whistled. 'AH,' said he, 'the +new timin'. I see!' He doddered into the Board-room I'd just left, +an' the Dandie-dog that is just his blind man's leader stayed wi' +me. That was providential. In a minute he was back again. 'Ye've +cast your bread on the watter, McPhee, an' be damned to you,' he +says. 'Whaur's my dog? My word, is he on your knee? There's more +discernment in a dog than a Jew. What garred ye curse your Board, +McPhee? It's expensive.' + +"'They'll pay more for the Breslau,' I said. 'Get off my knee, ye +smotherin' beast.' + +"'Bearin's hot, eh?' said McRimmon. 'It's thirty year since a man +daur curse me to my face. Time was I'd ha' cast ye doon the +stairway for that.' + +"'Forgie's all!' I said. He was wearin' to eighty, as I knew. 'I +was wrong, McRimmon; but when a man's shown the door for doin' his +plain duty he's not always ceevil.' + +"'So I hear,' says McRimmon. 'Ha' ye ony objection to a tramp +freighter? It's only fifteen a month, but they say the Blind Deevil +feeds a man better than others. She's my Kite. Come ben. Ye can +thank Dandie, here. I'm no used to thanks. An' noo,' says he, 'what +possessed ye to throw up your berth wi' Holdock?' + +"'The new timin',' said I. 'The Breslau will not stand it.' + +"'Hoot, oot,' said he. 'Ye might ha' crammed her a little - enough +to show ye were drivin' her - an' brought her in twa days behind. +What's easier than to say ye slowed for bearin's, eh? All my men +do it, and - I believe 'em.' + +"'McRimmon,' says I, 'what's her virginity to a lassie?' + +"He puckered his dry face an' twisted in his chair. 'The warld an' +a',' says he. 'My God, the vara warld an' a' (But what ha' you or +me to do wi' virginity, this late along?' + +"'This,' I said. 'There's just one thing that each one of us in his +trade or profession will not do for ony consideration whatever. If +I run to time I run to time barrio' always the risks o' the high +seas. Less than that, under God, I have not done. More than that, +by God, I will not do! There's no trick o' the trade I'm not +acquaint wi' -' + +"'So I've heard,' says McRimmon, dry as a biscuit. + +"'But yon matter o' fair rennin"s just my Shekinah, ye'll understand. +I daurna tamper wi' that. Nursing weak engines is fair craftsmanship; +but what the Board ask is cheatin', wi' the risk o' manslaughter +addeetional.' Ye'll note I know my business. + +"There was some more talk, an' next week I went aboard the Kite, +twenty-five hunder ton, simple compound, a Black Bird tramp. The +deeper she rode, the better she'd steam. I've snapped as much as +eleven out of her, but eight point three was her fair normal. Good +food forward an' better aft, all indents passed wi'out marginal +remarks, the best coal, new donkeys, and good crews. There was +nothin' the old man would not do, except paint. That was his +deeficulty. Ye could no more draw paint than his last teeth from +him. He'd come down to dock, an' his boats a scandal all along the +watter, an' he'd whine an' cry an' say they looked all he could +desire. Every owner has his non plus ultra, I've obsairved. Paint +was McRimmon's. But you could get round his engines without riskin' +your life, an', for all his blindness, I've seen him reject five +flawed intermediates, one after the other, on a nod from me; an' +his cattle-fittin's were guaranteed for North Atlantic winter +weather. Ye ken what that means? McRimmon an' the Black Bird Line, +God bless him! + +"Oh, I forgot to say she would lie down an' fill her forward deck +green, an' snore away into a twenty-knot gale forty-five to the +minute, three an' a half knots an hour, the engines runnin' sweet +an' true as a bairn breathin' in its sleep. Bell was skipper; an' +forbye there's no love lost between crews an' owners, we were fond +o' the auld Blind Deevil an' his dog, an' I'm thinkin' he liked us. +He was worth the windy side o' twa million sterlin', an' no friend +to his own blood-kin. Money's an awfu' thing - overmuch - for a +lonely man. + +I'd taken her out twice, there an' back again, when word came o' +the Breslau's breakdown, just as I prophesied. Calder was her +engineer - he's not fit to run a tug down the Solent - and he +fairly lifted the engines off the bed-plates, an' they fell down +in heaps, by what I heard. So she filled from the after +stuffin'-box to the after bulkhead, an' lay star-gazing, with +seventy-nine squealin' passengers in the saloon, till the +Camaralzaman o' Ramsey & Gold's Cartagena line gave her a tow to +the tune o' five thousand seven hunder an' forty pound, wi' costs +in the Admiralty Court. She was helpless, ye'll understand, an' in +no case to meet ony weather. Five thousand seven hunder an' forty +pounds, with costs, an' exclusive o' new engines! They'd ha' done +better to ha' kept me on the old timin'. + +"But, even so, the new Board were all for retrenchment. Young +Steiner, the Jew, was at the bottom of it. They sacked men right +an' left, that would not eat the dirt the Board gave 'em. They cut +down repairs; they fed crews wi' leavin's an' scrapin's; and, +reversin', McRimmon's practice, they hid their defeeciencies wi' +paint an' cheap gildin'. Quem Deus vult perrdere prrius dementat, +ye remember. + +"In January we went to dry-dock, an' in the next dock lay the Grotkau, +their big freighter that was the Dolabella o' Piegan, Piegan & Walsh's +line in '84 - a Clyde-built iron boat, a flat-bottomed, +pigeon-breasted, under-engined, bull-nosed bitch of a five thousand +ton freighter, that would neither steer, nor steam, nor stop when ye +asked her. Whiles she'd attend to her helm, whiles she'd take charge, +whiles she'd wait to scratch herself, an' whiles she'd buttock into +a dockhead. But Holdock and Steiner had bought her cheap, and +painted her all over like the Hoor o' Babylon, an' we called her the +Hoor for short." (By the way, McPhee kept to that name throughout +the rest of his tale; so you must read accordingly.) "I went to +see young Bannister - he had to take what the Board gave him, an' +he an' Calder were shifted together from the Breslau to this +abortion - an' talkin' to him I went into the dock under her. Her +plates were pitted till the men that were paint, paint, paintin' +her laughed at it. But the warst was at the last. She'd a great +clumsy iron twelve-foot Thresher propeller - Aitcheson designed the +Kites' - and just on the tail o' the shaft, behind the boss, was a +red weepin' crack ye could ha' put a penknife to. Man, it was an +awful crack! + +"'When d' ye ship a new tail-shaft?' I said to Bannister. + +"He knew what I meant. 'Oh, yon's a superfeecial flaw,' says he, +not lookin' at me. + +"'Superfeecial Gehenna!' I said. 'Ye'll not take her oot wi' a +solution o' continuity that like.' + +"'They'll putty it up this evening,' he said. 'I'm a married man, +an' - ye used to know the Board.' + +"I e'en said what was gied me in that hour. Ye know how a drydock +echoes. I saw young Steiner standin' listenin' above me, an', man, +he used language provocative of a breach o' the peace. I was a spy +and a disgraced employ, an' a corrupter o' young Bannister's morals, +an' he'd prosecute me for libel. He went away when I ran up the +steps - I'd ha' thrown him into the dock if I'd caught him - an' +there I met McRimmon, wi' Dandie pullin' on the chain, guidin' the +auld man among the railway lines. + +"'McPhee,' said he, 'ye're no paid to fight Holdock, Steiner, Chase +& Company, Limited, when ye meet. What's wrong between you?' + +"'No more than a tail-shaft rotten as a kail-stump. For ony sakes +go an' look, McRimmon. It's a comedietta.' + +"'I'm feared o' yon conversational Hebrew,' said he. 'Whaur's the +flaw, an' what like?' + +"'A seven-inch crack just behind the boss. There's no power on earth +will fend it just jarrin' off.' + +"'When?' + +"'That's beyon' my knowledge,' I said. + +"'So it is; so it is,' said McRimmon. 'We've all oor leemitations. +Ye're certain it was a crack?' + +"'Man, it's a crevasse,' I said, for there were no words to describe +the magnitude of it. 'An' young Bannister's sayin' it's no more +than a superfeecial flaw!' + +"'Weell, I tak' it oor business is to mind oor business. If ye've +ony friends aboard her, McPhee, why not bid them to a bit dinner at +Radley's?' + +"'I was thinkin' o' tea in the cuddy,' I said. 'Engineers o' tramp +freighters cannot afford hotel prices.' + +"'Na! na!' says the auld man, whimperin'. 'Not the cuddy. They'll +laugh at my Kite, for she's no plastered with paint like the Hoor. +Bid them to Radley's, McPhee, an' send me the bill. Thank Dandie, +here, man. I'm no used to thanks.' Then he turned him round. (I +was just thinkin' the vara same thing.) 'Mister McPhee,' said he, +'this is not senile dementia.' + +"'Preserve 's!' I said, clean jumped oot o' mysel'. 'I was but +thinkin' you're fey, McRimmon.' + +"Dod, the auld deevil laughed till he nigh sat down on Dandie. +'Send me the bill,' says he. 'I'm long past champagne, but tell me +how it tastes the morn.' + +"Bell and I bid young Bannister and Calder to dinner at Radley's. +They'll have no laughin' an' singin' there, but we took a private +room - like yacht-owners fra' Cowes." + +McPhee grinned all over, and lay back to think. + +"And then?" said I. + +"We were no drunk in ony preceese sense o' the word, but Radley's +showed me the dead men. There were six magnums o' dry champagne an' +maybe a bottle o' whisky." + +"Do you mean to tell me that you four got away with a magnum and a +half a piece, besides whisky " I demanded. + +McPhee looked down upon me from between his shoulders with toleration. + +"Man, we were not settin' down to drink," he said. "They no more +than made us wutty. To be sure, young Bannister laid his head on +the table an' greeted like a bairn, an' Calder was all for callin' +on Steiner at two in the morn an' painting him galley-green; but +they'd been drinkin' the afternoon. Lord, how they twa cursed the +Board, an' the Grotkau, an' the tail-shaft, an' the engines, an' a'! +They didna talk o' superfeecial flaws that night. I mind young +Bannister an' Calder shakin' hands on a bond to be revenged on the +Board at ony reasonable cost this side o' losing their certificates. +Now mark ye how false economy ruins business. The Board fed them +like swine (I have good reason to know it), an' I've obsairved wi' +my ain people that if ye touch his stomach ye wauken the deil in a +Scot. Men will tak' a dredger across the Atlantic if they 're well +fed, an' fetch her somewhere on the broadside o' the Americas; but +bad food's bad service the warld over. + +"The bill went to McRimmon, an' he said no more to me till the +week-end, when I was at him for more paint, for we'd heard the Kite +was chartered Liverpool-side. 'Bide whaur ye're put,' said the +Blind Deevil. 'Man, do ye wash in champagne? The Kite's no leavin' +here till I gie the order, an' - how am I to waste paint onher, wi' +the Lammergeyer docked for who knows how long an' a'?' + +"She was our big freighter - McIntyre was engineer - an' I knew she'd +come from overhaul not three months. That morn I met McRimmon's +head-clerk - ye'll not know him - fair bitin' his nails off wi' +mortification. + +"'The auld man's gone gyte,' says he. 'He's withdrawn the Lammergeyer.' + +"'Maybe he has reasons,' says I. + +"'Reasons! He's daft!' + +"'He'll no be daft till he begins to paint,' I said. + +"'That's just what he's done - and South American freights higher +than we'll live to see them again. He's laid her up to paint her - +to paint her - to paint her!' says the little clerk, dancin' like a +hen on a hot plate. 'Five thousand ton o' potential freight rottin' +in drydock, man; an' he dolin' the paint out in quarter-pound tins, +for it cuts him to the heart, mad though he is. An' the Grotkau - +the Grotkau of all conceivable bottoms - soaking up every pound that +should be ours at Liverpool!' + +"I was staggered wi' this folly - considerin' the dinner at Radley's +in connection wi' the same. + +"Ye may well stare, McPhee,' says the head-clerk. 'There's engines, +an' rollin' stock, an' iron bridgesd' ye know what freights are noo? +an' pianos, an' millinery, an' fancy Brazil cargo o' every species +pourin' into the Grotkau - the Grotkau o' the Jerusalem firm - and +the Lammergeyer's bein' painted!' + +"Losh, I thought he'd drop dead wi' the fits. + +"I could say no more than 'Obey orders, if ye break owners,' but on +the Kite we believed McRimmon was mad; an' McIntyre of the Lammergeyer +was for lockin' him up by some patent legal process he'd found in a +book o' maritime law. An' a' that week South American freights rose +an' rose. It was sinfu'! + +"Syne Bell got orders to tak' the Kite round to Liverpool in +water-ballast, and McRimmon came to bid's good-bye, yammerin' an' +whinin' o'er the acres o' paint he'd lavished on the Lammergeyer. + +"'I look to you to retrieve it,' says he. 'I look to you to +reimburse me! 'Fore God, why are ye not cast off? Are ye dawdlin' +in dock for a purpose?' + +"'What odds, McRimmon?' says Bell. 'We'll be a day behind the fair +at Liverpool. The Grotkau's got all the freight that might ha' been +ours an' the Lammergeyer's.' McRimmon laughed an' chuckled - the +pairfect eemage o' senile dementia. Ye ken his eyebrows wark up an' +down like a gorilla's. + +"'Ye're under sealed orders,' said he, tee-heein' an' scratchin' +himself. 'Yon's they' - to be opened seriatim. + +"Says Bell, shufflin' the envelopes when the auld man had gone +ashore: 'We're to creep round a' the south coast, standin' in for +orders his weather, too. There's no question o' his lunacy now.' + +"Well, we buttocked the auld Kite along - vara bad weather we made + - standin' in all alongside for telegraphic orders, which are the +curse o' skippers. Syne we made over to Holyhead, an' Bell opened +the last envelope for the last instructions. I was wi' him in the +cuddy, an' he threw it over to me, cryin': 'Did ye ever know the +like, Mac?' + +"I'll no say what McRimmon had written, but he was far from mad. +There was a sou'wester brewin' when we made the mouth o' the Mersey, +a bitter cold morn wi' a grey-green sea and a grey-green sky - +Liverpool weather, as they say; an' there we lay choppin', an' the +crew swore. Ye canna keep secrets aboard ship. They thought +McRimmon was mad, too. + +"Syne we saw the Grotkau rollin' oot on the top o' flood, deep an' +double deep, wi' her new-painted funnel an' her new-painted boats +an' a'. She looked her name, an', moreover, she coughed like it. +Calder tauld me at Radley's what ailed his engines, but my own ear +would ha' told me twa mile awa', by the beat o' them. Round we +came, plungin' an' squatterin' in her wake, an' the wind cut wi' +good promise o' more to come. By six it blew hard but clear, an' +before the middle watch it was a sou'wester in airnest. + +"'She'll edge into Ireland, this gait,' says Bell. I was with him +on the bridge, watchin' the Grotkau's port light. Ye canna see +green so far as red, or we'd ha' kept to leeward. We'd no +passengers to consider, an' (all eyes being on the Grotkau) we fair +walked into a liner rampin' home to Liverpool. Or, to be preceese, +Bell no more than twisted the Kite oot from under her bows, and +there was a little damnin' betwix' the twa bridges. "Noo a +passenger" - McPhee regarded me benignantly -"wad ha' told the +papers that as soon as he got to the Customs. We stuck to the +Grotkau's tail that night an' the next twa days - she slowed down +to five knot by my reckonin' and we lapped along the weary way to +the Fastnet." + +"But you don't go by the Fastnet to get to any South American port, +do you?" I said. + +"We do not. We prefer to go as direct as may be. But we were +followin' the Grotkau, an' she'd no walk into that gale for ony +consideration. Knowin' what I did to her discredit, I couldna blame +young Bannister. It was warkin' up to a North Atlantic winter gale, +snow an' sleet an' a perishin' wind. Eh, it was like the Deil +walkin' abroad o' the surface o' the deep, whuppin' off the top +o' the waves before he made up his mind. They'd bore up against +it so far, but the minute she was clear o' the Skelligs she fair +tucked up her skirts an' ran for it by Dunmore Head. Wow, she +rolled! + +"'She'll be makin' Smerwick,' says Bell. + +"She'd ha' tried for Ventry by noo if she meant that,' I said. + +"'They'll roll the funnel oot o' her, this gait,' says Bell. 'Why +canna Bannister keep her head to sea?' + +"It's the tail-shaft. Ony rollin''s better than pitchin' wi' +superfeecial cracks in the tail-shaft. Calder knows that much,' I +said. + +"'It's ill wark retreevin' steamers this weather,' said Bell. His +beard and whiskers were frozen to his oilskin, an' the spray was +white on the weather side of him. Pairfect North Atlantic winter +weather! + +"One by one the sea raxed away our three boats, an' the davits were +crumpled like ram's horns. + +"'Yon's bad,' said Bell, at the last. 'Ye canna pass a hawser wi'oot +a boat.' Bell was a vara judeecious man - for an Aberdonian. + +"I'm not one that fashes himself for eventualities outside the +engine-room, so I e'en slipped down betwixt waves to see how the +Kite fared. Man, she's the best geared boat of her class that ever +left Clyde! Kinloch, my second, knew her as well as I did. I found +him dryin' his socks on the main-steam, an' combin' his whiskers wi' +the comb Janet gied me last year, for the warld an' a' as though we +were in port. I tried the feed, speered into the stoke-hole, +thumbed all bearin's, spat on the thrust for luck, gied 'em my +blessin', an' took Kinloch's socks before I went up to the bridge +again. + +"Then Bell handed me the wheel, an' went below to warm himself. +When he came up my gloves were frozen to the spokes an' the ice +clicked over my eyelids. Pairfect North Atlantic winter weather, +as I was sayin'. + +"The gale blew out by night, but we lay in smotherin' cross-seas +that made the auld Kite chatter from stem to stern. I slowed to +thirty-four, I mind - no, thirty-seven. There was a long swell the +morn, an' the Grotkau was headin' into it west awa'. + +"'She'll win to Rio yet, tail-shaft or no tail-shaft,' says Bell. + +"'Last night shook her,' I said. 'She'll jar it off yet, mark my +word.' + +"We were then, maybe, a hunder and fifty mile westsou'west o' Slyne +Head, by dead reckonin'. Next day we made a hunder an' thirty - +ye'll note we were not racin-boats - an' the day after a hunder an' +sixty-one, an' that made us, we'll say, Eighteen an' a bittock west, +an' maybe Fifty-one an' a bittock north, crossin' all the North +Atlantic liner lanes on the long slant, always in sight o' the +Grotkau, creepin' up by night and fallin' awa' by day. After the +gale it was cold weather wi' dark nights. + +"I was in the engine-room on Friday night, just before the middle +watch, when Bell whustled down the tube: 'She's done it'; an' up I +came. + +"The Grotkau was just a fair distance south, an' one by one she ran +up the three red lights in a vertical line - the sign of a steamer +not under control. + +"'Yon's a tow for us,' said Bell, lickin' his chops. 'She'll be +worth more than the Breslau. We'll go down to her, McPhee!' + +"'Bide a while,' I said. 'The seas fair throng wi' ships here.' + +"'Reason why,' said Bell. 'It's a fortune gaun beggin'. What d' +ye think, man?' + +"'Gie her till daylight. She knows we're here. If Bannister needs +help he'll loose a rocket.' + +"'Wha told ye Bannister's need? We'll ha' some rag-an'-bone tramp +snappin' her up under oor nose,' said he; an' he put the wheel over. +We were goin' slow. + +"'Bannister wad like better to go home on a liner an' eat in the +saloon. Mind ye what they said o' Holdock & Steiner's food that +night at Radley's? Keep her awa', man - keep her awa'. A tow's a +tow, but a derelict's big salvage.' + +"'E-eh! 'said Bell. 'Yon's an inshot o' yours, Mac. I love ye like +a brother. We'll bide whaur we are till daylight'; an' he kept her +awa'. + +"Syne up went a rocket forward, an' twa on the bridge, an' a blue +light aft. Syne a tar-barrel forward again. + +"'She's sinkin',' said Bell. 'It's all gaun, an' I'll get no more +than a pair o' night-glasses for pickin' up young Bannister - the +fool!' + +"' Fair an' soft again,' I said. 'She's signallin' to the south +of us. Bannister knows as well as I that one rocket would bring +the Breslau. He'll no be wastin' fireworks for nothin'. Hear her +ca'!' + +"The Grotkau whustled an' whustled for five minutes, an' then there +were more fireworks - a regular exhibeetion. + +"'That's no for men in the regular trade,' says Bell. 'Ye're right, +Mac. That's for a cuddy full o' passengers.' He blinked through +the night-glasses when it lay a bit thick to southward. + +"'What d' ye make of it?' I said. + +"'Liner,' he says. 'Yon's her rocket. Ou, ay; they've waukened +the gold-strapped skipper, an' - noo they've waukened the passengers. +They're turnin' on the electrics, cabin by cabin. Yon's anither +rocket! They're comin' up to help the perishin' in deep watters.' + +"'Gie me the glass,' I said. But Bell danced on the bridge, clean +dementit. 'Mails-mails-mails!' said he. 'Under contract wi' the +Government for the due conveyance o' the mails; an' as such, Mac, +yell note, she may rescue life at sea, but she canna tow! - she +canna tow! Yon's her night-signal. She'll be up in half an hour!' + +"'Gowk!' I said, 'an' we blazin' here wi' all oor lights. Oh, Bell, +ye're a fool!' + +"He tumbled off the bridge forward, an' I tumbled aft, an' before +ye could wink our lights were oot, the engine-room hatch was covered, +an' we lay pitch-dark, watchin' the lights o' the liner come up that +the Grotkau'd been signallin' to. Twenty knot an hour she came, +every cabin lighted, an' her boats swung awa'. It was grandly done, +an' in the inside of an hour. She stopped like Mrs. Holdock's +machine; down went the gangway, down went the boats, an' in ten +minutes we heard the passengers cheerin', an' awa' she fled. + +"'They'll tell o' this all the days they live,' said Bell. 'A +rescue at sea by night, as pretty as a play. Young Bannister an' +Calder will be drinkin' in the saloon, an' six months hence the +Board o' Trade 'll gie the skipper a pair o' binoculars. It's +vara philanthropic all round.' + +"We'll lay by till day - ye may think we waited for it wi' sore +eyes an' there sat the Grotkau, her nose a bit cocked, just leerin' +at us. She looked paifectly ridiculous. + +"'She'll be fillin' aft,' says Bell; 'for why is she down by the +stern? The tail-shaft's punched a hole in her, an' - we 've no +boats. There's three hunder thousand pound sterlin', at a +conservative estimate, droonin' before our eyes. What's to do?' +An' his bearin's got hot again in a minute: he was an incontinent +man. + +"'Run her as near as ye daur,' I said. 'Gie me a jacket an' a +lifeline, an' I'll swum for it.' There was a bit lump of a sea, +an' it was cold in the wind - vara cold; but they'd gone overside +like passengers, young Bannister an' Calder an' a', leaving the +gangway down on the lee-side. It would ha' been a flyin' in the +face o' manifest Providence to overlook the invitation. We were +within fifty yards o' her while Kinloch was garmin' me all over wi' +oil behind the galley; an' as we ran past I went outboard for the +salvage o' three hunder thousand pound. Man, it was perishin' +cold, but I'd done my job judgmatically, an' came scrapin' all +along her side slap on to the lower gratin' o' the gangway. No +one more astonished than me, I assure ye. Before I'd caught my +breath I'd skinned both my knees on the gratin', an' was climbin' +up before she rolled again. I made my line fast to the rail, an' +squattered aft to young Bannister's cabin, whaaur I dried me wi' +everything in his bunk, an' put on every conceivable sort o' rig +I found till the blood was circulatin'. Three pair drawers, I mind +I found - to begin upon - an' I needed them all. It was the +coldest cold I remember in all my experience. + +"Syne I went aft to the engine-room. The Grotkau sat on her own +tail, as they say. She was vara shortshafted, an' her gear was all +aft. There was four or five foot o' water in the engine-room +slummockin' to and fro, black an' greasy; maybe there was six foot. +The stoke-hold doors were screwed home, an' the stoke-hold was tight +enough, but for a minute the mess in the engine-room deceived me. +Only for a minute, though, an' that was because I was not, in a +manner o' speakin', as calm as ordinar'. I looked again to mak' +sure. 'T was just black wi' bilge: dead watter that must ha' come +in fortuitously, ye ken." + +"McPhee, I'm only a passenger," I said, "but you don't persuade me +that six foot o' water can come into an engine-room fortuitously." + +"Who's tryin' to persuade one way or the other?" McPhee retorted. +"I'm statin' the facts o' the case - the simple, natural facts. Six +or seven foot o' dead watter in the engine-room is a vara depressin' +sight if ye think there's like to be more comin'; but I did not +consider that such was likely, and so, yell note, I was not +depressed." + +"That's all very well, but I want to know about the water," I said. + +"I've told ye. There was six feet or more there, wi' Calder's cap +floatin' on top." + +"Where did it come from?" + +"Weel, in the confusion o' things after the propeller had dropped +off an' the engines were racin' an' a', it's vara possible that +Calder might ha' lost it off his head an' no troubled himself to +pick it up again. I remember seem' that cap on him at Southampton." + +"I don't want to know about the cap. I'm asking where the water +came from and what it was doing there, and why you were so certain +that it wasn't a leak, McPhee?" + +"For good reason-for good an' sufficient reason." + +"Give it to me, then." + +"Weel, it's a reason that does not properly concern myself only. +To be preceese, I'm of opinion that it was due, the watter, in part +to an error o' judgment in another man. We can a' mak' mistakes." + +"Oh, I beg your pardon?" + +"I got me to the rail again, an', 'What's wrang?' said Bell, hailin'. + +"'She'll do,' I said. 'Send's o'er a hawser, an' a man to steer. +I'll pull him in by the life-line.' + +"I could see heads bobbin' back an' forth, an' a whuff or two o' +strong words. Then Bell said: 'They'll not trust themselves - one +of 'em - in this waiter - except Kinloch, an' I'll no spare him.' + +"'The more salvage to me, then,' I said. 'I'll make shift solo.' + +"Says one dock-rat, at this: 'D' ye think she's safe?' + +"'I'll guarantee ye nothing,' I said, 'except maybe a hammerin' for +keepin' me this long.' + +"Then he sings out: 'There's no more than one lifebelt, an' they +canna find it, or I'd come.' + +"'Throw him over, the Jezebel,' I said, for I was oot o' patience; +an' they took haud o' that volunteer before he knew what was in +store, and hove him over, in the bight of my life-line. So I e'en +hauled him upon the sag of it, hand over fist - a vara welcome +recruit when I'd tilted the salt watter oot of him: for, by the +way, he could na swim. + +"Syne they bent a twa-inch rope to the life-line, an' a hawser to +that, an' I led the rope o'er the drum of a hand-winch forward, an' +we sweated the hawser inboard an' made it fast to the Grotkau's +bitts. + +"Bell brought the Kite so close I feared she'd roll in an' do the +Grotkau's plates a mischief. He hove anither life-line to me, an' +went astern, an' we had all the weary winch work to do again wi' a +second hawser. For all that, Bell was right: we'd along tow before +us, an' though Providence had helped us that far, there was no +sense in leavin' too much to its keepin'. When the second hawser +was fast, I was wet wi' sweat, an' I cried Bell to tak' up his +slack an' go home. The other man was by way o' helpin' the work wi' +askin' for drinks, but I e'en told him he must hand reef an' steer, +beginnin' with steerin', for I was goin' to turn in. He steered - +oh, ay, he steered, in a manner o' speakin'. At the least, he +grippit the spokes an' twiddled 'em an' looked wise, but I doubt if +the Hoor ever felt it. I turned in there an' then, to young +Bannister's bunk, an' slept past expression. I waukened ragin' wi' +hunger, a fair lump o' sea runnin', the Kite snorin' awa' four knots +an hour; an' the Grotkau slappin' her nose under, an' yawin' an' +standin' over at discretion. She was a most disgracefu' tow. But +the shameful thing of all was the food. I raxed me a meal fra +galley-shelves an' pantries an' lazareetes an' cubby-holes that I +would not ha' gied to the mate of a Cardiff collier; an' ye ken we +say a Cardiff mate will eat clinkers to save waste. I'm sayin' it +was simply vile! The crew had written what they thought of it on +the new paint o' the fo'c'sle, but I had not a decent soul wi' me +to complain on. There was nothin' for me to do save watch the +hawsers an' the Kite's tail squatterin' down in white watter when +she lifted to a sea; so I got steam on the after donkey-pump, an' +pumped oot the engine-room. There's no sense in leavin' waiter +loose in a ship. When she was dry, I went doun the shaft-tunnel, +an' found she was leakin' a little through the stuffin'box, but +nothin' to make wark. The propeller had e'en jarred off, as I knew +it must, an' Calder had been waitin' for it to go wi' his hand on +the gear. He told me as much when I met him ashore. There was +nothin' started or strained. It had just slipped awa' to the bed o' +the Atlantic as easy as a man dyin' wi' due warning - a most +providential business for all concerned. Syne I took stock o' the +Grotkau's upper works. Her boats had been smashed on the davits, an' +here an' there was the rail missin', an' a ventilator or two had +fetched awa', an' the bridge-rails were bent by the seas; but her +hatches were tight, and she'd taken no sort of harm. Dod, I came +to hate her like a human bein', for I was eight weary days aboard, +starvin' - ay, starvin' - within a cable's length o' plenty. All +day I laid in the bunk reading the' Woman-Hater,' the grandest book +Charlie Reade ever wrote, an' pickin' a toothful here an' there. +It was weary, weary work. Eight days, man, I was aboard the Grotkau, +an' not one full meal did I make. Sma' blame her crew would not +stay by her. The other man? Oh I warked him wi' a vengeance to +keep him warm. + +"It came on to blow when we fetched soundin's, an' that kept me +standin' by the hawsers, lashed to the capstan, breathin' twixt +green seas. I near died o' cauld an' hunger, for the Grotkau towed +like a barge, an' Bell howkit her along through or over. It was +vara thick up-Channel, too. We were standin' in to make some sort +o' light, an' we near walked over twa three fishin'-boats, an' they +cried us we were overclose to Falmouth. Then we were near cut down +by a drunken foreign fruiter that was blunderin' between us an' the +shore, and it got thicker an' thicker that night, an' I could feel +by the tow Bell did not know whaur he was. Losh, we knew in the +morn, for the wind blew the fog oot like a candle, an' the sun came +clear; and as surely as McRimmon gied me my cheque, the shadow o' +the Eddystone lay across our tow-rope! We were that near - ay, we +were that near! Bell fetched the Kite round with the jerk that +came close to tearin' the bitts out o' the Grotkau, an' I mind I +thanked my Maker in young Bannister's cabin when we were inside +Plymouth breakwater. + +"The first to come aboard was McRimmon, wi' Dandie. Did I tell you +our orders were to take anything we found into Plymouth? The auld +deil had just come down overnight, puttin' two an' two together from +what Calder had told him when the liner landed the Grotkau's men. +He had preceesely hit oor time. I'd hailed Bell for something to +eat, an' he sent it o'er in the same boat wi' McRimmon, when the +auld man came to me. He grinned an' slapped his legs and worked +his eyebrows the while I ate. + +"'How do Holdock, Steiner & Chase feed their men?' said he. + +"'Ye can see,' I said, knockin' the top off another beer-bottle. +'I did not sign to be starved, McRimmon.' + +"'Nor to swum, either,' said he, for Bell had tauld him how I +carried the line aboard. 'Well, I'm thinkin' you'll be no loser. +What freight could we ha' put into the Lammergeyer would equal +salvage on four hunder thousand pounds - hull an' cargo? Eh, +McPhee? This cuts the liver out o' Holdock, Steiner, Chase & +Company, Limited. Eh, McPhee? An' I'm sufferin' from senile +dementia now? Eh, MCPhee? An' I'm not daft, am I, till I begin +to paint the Lammergeyer? Eh, McPhee? Ye may weel lift your leg, +Dandie! I ha' the laugh o' them all. Ye found watter in the +engine-room?' + +"'To speak wi'oot prejudice,' I said, ' there was some watter.' + +"'They thought she was sinkin' after the propeller went. She filled +wi' extraordinary rapeedity. Calder said it grieved him an' +Bannister to abandon her.' + +"I thought o' the dinner at Radley's, an' what like o' food I'd +eaten for eight days. + +"'It would grieve them sore,' I said. + +"'But the crew would not hear o' stayin' and workin' her back under +canvas. They're gaun up an' down sayin' they'd ha' starved first.' + +"'They'd ha' starved if they'd stayed,' said I. + +"'I tak' it, fra Calder's account, there was a mutiny a'most.' + +"'Ye know more than I, McRimmon' I said. 'Speakin' wi'oot prejudice, +for we're all in the same boat, who opened the bilgecock?' + +"'Oh, that's it - is it?' said the auld man, an' I could see he was +surprised. 'A bilge-cock, ye say?' + +"'I believe it was a bilge-cock. They were all shut when I came +aboard, but some one had flooded the engine-room eight feet over all, +and shut it off with the worm-an'-wheel gear from the second gratin' +afterwards.' + +"'Losh!' said McRimmon. 'The ineequity o' man's beyond belief. +But it's awfu' discreditable to Holdock, Steiner & Chase, if that +came oot in court.' + +"'It's just my own curiosity,' I said. + +"'Aweel, Dandie's afflicted wi' the same disease. Dandie, strive +against curiosity, for it brings a little dog into traps an' +suchlike. Whaur was the Kite when yon painted liner took off the +Grotkau's people?' + +"'Just there or thereabouts,' I said. + +"'An' which o' you twa thought to cover your lights?' said he, +winkin'. + +"'Dandle,' I said to the dog, 'we must both strive against curiosity. +It's an unremunerative business. What's our chance o' salvage, +Dandie?' + +"He laughed till he choked. 'Tak' what I gie you, McPhee, an' be +content,' he said. 'Lord, how a man wastes time when he gets old. +Get aboard the Kite, mon, as soon as ye can. I've clean forgot +there's a Baltic charter yammerin' for you at London. That'll be +your last voyage, I'm thinkin', excep' by way o' pleasure.' + +"Steiner's men were comin' aboard to take charge an' tow her round, +an' I passed young Steiner in a boat as I went to the Kite. He +looked down his nose; but McRimmon pipes up: 'Here's the man ye owe +the Grotkau to - at a price, Steiner - at a price! Let me introduce +Mr. McPhee to you. Maybe ye've met before; but ye've vara little +luck in keepin' your men - ashore or afloat!' + +"Young Steiner looked angry enough to eat him as he chuckled an' +whustled in his dry old throat. + +"'Ye've not got your award yet,' Steiner says. + +"'Na, na,' says the auld man, in a screech ye could hear to the Hoe, +'but I've twa million sterlin', an' no bairns, ye Judeeas Apella, +if ye mean to fight; an' I'll match ye p'und for p'und till the last +p'und's oot. Ye ken me, Steiner! I'm McRimmon o' McNaughten & +McRimmon!' + +"'Dod,' he said betwix' his teeth, sittin' back in the boat, 'I've +waited fourteen year to break that Jewfirm, an' God be thankit I'll +do it now.' + +"The Kite was in the Baltic while the auld man was warkin' his warks, +but I know the assessors valued the Grotkau, all told, at over three +hunder and sixty thousand - her manifest was a treat o' richness - +an' McRimmon got a third for salvin' an abandoned ship. Ye see, +there's vast deeference between towin' a ship wi' men on her an' +pickin' up a derelict - a vast deeference - in pounds sterlin'. +Moreover, twa three o' the Grotkau's crew were burnin' to testify +about food, an' there was a note o' Calder to the Board, in regard +to the tail-shaft, that would ha' been vara damagin' if it had come +into court. They knew better than to fight. + +"Syne the Kite came back, an' McRimmon paid off me an' Bell +personally, an' the rest of the crew pro rata, I believe it's ca'ed. +My share - oor share, I should say - was just twenty-five thousand +pound sterlin'." + +At this point Janet jumped up and kissed him. + +"Five-and-twenty thousand pound sterlin'. Noo, I'm fra the North, +and I'm not the like to fling money awa' rashly, but I'd gie six +months' pay - one hunder an' twenty pounds - to know who flooded +the engine-room of the Grotkau. I'm fairly well acquaint wi' +McRimmon's eediosyncrasies, and he'd no hand in it. It was not +Calder, for I've asked him, an' he wanted to fight me. It would +be in the highest degree unprofessional o' Calder - not fightin', +but openin' bilge-cocks - but for a while I thought it was him. Ay, +I judged it might be him - under temptation." + +"What's your theory?" I demanded. + +"Weel, I'm inclined to think it was one o' those singular providences +that remind us we're in the hands o' Higher Powers." . + +"It couldn't open and shut itself?" + +"I did not mean that; but some half-starvin' oiler or, maybe, trimmer +must ha' opened it awhile to mak' sure o' leavin' the Grotkau. It's +a demoralisin' thing to see an engine-room flood up after any +accident to the gear - demoralisin' and deceptive both. Aweel, the +man got what he wanted, for they went aboard the liner cryin' that +the Grotkau was sinkin'. But it's curious to think o' the +consequences. In a' human probability, he's bein' damned in heaps +at the present moment aboard another tramp freighter; an' here am +I, wi' five-an'-twenty thousand pound invested, resolute to go to +sea no more - providential's the preceese word - except as a +passenger, ye'll understand, Janet." + + * * * * * * * * * * * * + +McPhee kept his word. He and Janet went for a voyage as passengers +in the first-class saloon. They paid seventy pounds for their +berths; and Janet found a very sick woman in the second-class +saloon, so that for sixteen days she lived below, and chatted with +the stewardesses at the foot of the second-saloon stairs while her +patient slept. McPhee was a passenger for exactly twenty-four +hours. Then the engineers' mess - where the oilcloth tables are - +joyfully took him to its bosom, and for the rest of the voyage that +company was richer by the unpaid services of a highly certificated +engineer. + + + + +AN ERROR IN THE FOURTH DIMENSION + + +Before he was thirty, he discovered that there was no one to play +with him. Though the wealth of three toilsome generations stood to +his account, though his tastes in the matter of books, bindings, +rugs, swords, bronzes, lacquer, pictures, plate, statuary, horses, +conservatories, and agriculture were educated and catholic, the +public opinion of his country wanted to know why he did not go to +office daily, as his father had before him. + +So he fled, and they howled behind him that he was an unpatriotic +Anglomaniac, born to consume fruits, one totally lacking in public +spirit. He wore an eyeglass; he had built a wall round his country +house, with a high gate that shut, instead of inviting America to +sit on his flower-beds; he ordered his clothes from England; and +the press of his abiding city cursed him, from his eye-glass to his +trousers, for two consecutive days. + +When he rose to light again, it was where nothing less than the +tents of an invading army in Piccadilly would make any difference +to anybody. If he had money and leisure, England stood ready to +give him all that money and leisure could buy. That price paid, +she would ask no questions. He took his cheque-book and accumulated +things - warily at first, for he remembered that in America things +own the man. To his delight, he discovered that in England he +could put his belongings under his feet; for classes, ranks, and +denominations of people rose, as it were, from the earth, and +silently and discreetly took charge of his possessions. They had +been born and bred for that sole purpose - servants of the +cheque-book. When that was at an end they would depart as +mysteriously as they had come. + +The impenetrability of this regulated life irritated him, and he +strove to learn something of the human side of these people. He +retired baffled, to be trained by his menials. In America, the +native demoralises the English servant. In England, the servant +educates the master. Wilton Sargent strove to learn all they taught +as ardently as his father had striven to wreck, before capture, the +railways of his native land; and it must have been some touch of +the old bandit railway blood that bade him buy, for a song, Holt +Hangars, whose forty-acre lawn, as every one knows, sweeps down in +velvet to the quadruple tracks of the Great Buchonian Railway. Their +trains flew by almost continuously, with a bee-like drone in the day +and a flutter of strong wings at night. The son of Merton Sargent +had good right to be interested in them. He owned controlling +interests in several thousand miles of track, - not permanent way, + - built on altogether different plans, where locomotives eternally +whistled for grade-crossings, and parlor-cars of fabulous expense +and unrestful design skated round curves that the Great Buchonian +would have condemned as unsafe in a construction-line. From the +edge of his lawn he could trace the chaired metals falling away, +rigid as a bowstring, into the valley of the Prest, studded with the +long perspective of the block signals, buttressed with stone, and +carried, high above all possible risk, on a forty-foot embankment. + +Left to himself, he would have builded a private car, and kept it +at the nearest railway-station, Amberley Royal, five miles away. +But those into whose hands he had committed himself for his English +training had little knowledge of railways and less of private cars. +The one they knew was something that existed in the scheme of things +for their convenience. The other they held to be "distinctly +American"; and, with the versatility of his race, Wilton Sargent had +set out to be just a little more English than the English. + +He succeeded to admiration. He learned not to redecorate Holt +Hangars, though he warmed it; to leave his guests alone; to refrain +from superfluous introductions; to abandon manners of which he had +great store, and to hold fast by manner which can after labour be +acquired. He learned to let other people, hired for the purpose, +attend to the duties for which they were paid. He learned - this +he got from a ditcher on the estate - that every man with whom he +came in contact had his decreed position in the fabric of the realm, +which position he would do well to consult. Last mystery of all, +he learned to golf - well: and when an American knows the innermost +meaning of "Don't press, slow back, and keep your eye on the ball," +he is, for practical purposes, denationalised. + +His other education proceeded on the pleasantest lines. Was he +interested in any conceivable thing in heaven above, or the earth +beneath, or the waters under the earth? Forthwith appeared at his +table, guided by those safe hands into which he had fallen, the +very men who had best said, done, written, explored, excavated, +built, launched, created, or studied that one thing - herders of +books and prints in the British Museum; specialists in scarabs, +cartouches, and dynasties Egyptian; rovers and raiders from the +heart of unknown lands; toxicologists; orchid-hunters; monographers +on flint implements, carpets, prehistoric man, or early Renaissance +music. They came, and they played with him. They asked no +questions; they cared not so much as a pin who or what he was. They +demanded only that he should be able to talk and listen courteously. +Their work was done elsewhere and out of his sight. + +There were also women. + +"Never," said Wilton Sargent to himself, "has an American seen +England as I'm seeing it"; and he thought, blushing beneath the +bedclothes, of the unregenerate and blatant days when he would steam +to office, down the Hudson, in his twelve-hundred-ton ocean-going +steam-yacht, and arrive, by gradations, at Bleecker Street, hanging +on to a leather strap between an Irish washerwoman and a German +anarchist. If any of his guests had seen him then they would have +said: "How distinctly American!" and - Wilton did not care for that +tone. He had schooled himself to an English walk, and, so long as +he did not raise it, an English voice. He did not gesticulate with +his hands; he sat down on most of his enthusiasms, but he could not +rid himself of The Shibboleth. He would ask for the Worcestershire +sauce: even Howard, his immaculate butler, could not break him of +this. + +It was decreed that he should complete his education in a wild and +wonderful manner, and, further, that I should be in at that death. + +Wilton had more than once asked me to Holt Hangars, for the purpose +of showing how well the new life fitted him, and each time I had +declared it creaseless. His third invitation was more informal +than the others, and he hinted of some matter in which he was +anxious for my sympathy or counsel, or both. There is room for an +infinity of mistakes when a man begins to take liberties with his +nationality; and I went down expecting things. A seven-foot +dog-cart and a groom in the black Holt Hangars livery met me at +Amberley Royal. At Holt Hangars I was received by a person of +elegance and true reserve, and piloted to my luxurious chamber. +There were no other guests in the house, and this set me thinking. + +Wilton came into my room about half an hour before dinner, and though +his face was masked with a drop-curtain of highly embroidered +indifference, I could see that he was not at ease. In time, for he +was then almost as difficult to move as one of my own countrymen, I +extracted the tale - simple in its extravagance, extravagant in its +simplicity. It seemed that Hackman of the British Museum had been +staying with him about ten days before, boasting of scarabs. Hackman +has a way of carrying really priceless antiquities on his tie-ring +and in his trouser pockets. Apparently, he had intercepted something +on its way to the Boulak Museum which, he said, was "a genuine +Amen-Hotepa queen's scarab of the Fourth Dynasty." Now Wilton had +bought from Cassavetti, whose reputation is not above suspicion, a +scarab of much the same scarabeousness, and had left it in his London +chambers. Hackman at a venture, but knowing Cassavetti, pronounced +it an imposition. There was long discussion - savant versus +millionaire, one saying: " ut I know it cannot be"; and the other: +"But I can and will prove it." Wilton found it necessary for his +soul's satisfaction to go up to town, then and there, - a forty-mile +run, - and bring back the scarab before dinner. It was at this point +that he began to cut corners with disastrous results. Amberley Royal +station being five miles away, and putting in of horses a matter of +time, Wilton had told Howard, the immaculate butler, to signal the +next train to stop; and Howard, who was more of a man of resource +than his master gave him credit for, had, with the red flag of the +ninth hole of the links which crossed the bottom of the lawn, +signalled vehemently to the first down-train; and it had stopped. +Here Wilton's account became confused. He attempted, it seems, to +get into that highly indignant express, but a guard restrained him +with more or less force - hauled him, in fact, backyards from the +window of a locked carriage. Wilton must have struck the gravel +with some vehemence, for the consequences, he admitted, were a free +fight on the line in which he lost his hat, and was at last dragged +into the guard's van and set down breathless. + +He had pressed money upon the man, and very foolishly had explained +everything but his name. This he clung to, for he had a vision of +tall head-lines in the New York papers, and well knew no son of +Merton Sargent could expect mercy that side the water. The guard, +to Wilton's amazement, refused the money on the grounds that this +was a matter for the Company to attend to. Wilton insisted on his +incognito, and, therefore, found two policemen waiting for him at +St. Botolph terminus. When he expressed a wish to buy a new hat +and telegraph to his friends, both policemen with one voice warned +him that whatever he said would be used as evidence against him; +and this had impressed Wilton tremendously. + +"They were so infernally polite," he said. "If they had clubbed me +I wouldn't have cared; but it was, 'Step this way, sir,' and, 'Up +those stairs, please, sir,' till they jailed me - jailed me like a +common drunk, and I had to stay in a filthy little cubby-hole of a +cell all night." + +"That comes of not giving your name and not wiring your lawyer," I +replied. "What did you get?" + +"Forty shillings, or a month," said Wilton, promptly, - "next morning +bright and early. They were working us off, three a minute. A girl +in a pink hat - she was brought in at three in the morning - got ten +days. I suppose I was lucky. I must have knocked his senses out of +the guard. He told the old duck on the bench that I had told him I +was a sergeant in the army, and that I was gathering beetles on the +track. That comes of trying to explain to an Englishman." + +"And you?" + +"Oh, I said nothing. I wanted to get out. I paid my fine, and +bought a new hat, and came up here before noon next morning. There +were a lot of people in the house, and I told ' em I'd been +unavoidably detained, and then they began to recollect engagements +elsewhere. Hackman must have seen the fight on the track and made +a story of it. I suppose they thought it was distinctly American + - confound 'em! It's the only time in my life that I've ever +flagged a train, and I wouldn't have done it but for that scarab. +'T wouldn't hurt their old trains to be held up once in a while." + +"Well, it's all over now," I said, choking a little. "And your name +didn't get into the papers. It is rather transatlantic when you +come to think of it." + +"Over!" Wilton grunted savagely. "It's only just begun. That +trouble with the guard was just common, ordinary assault - merely +a little criminal business. The flagging of the train is civil, +infernally civil, - and means something quite different. They're +after me for that now." + +"Who?" + +"The Great Buchonian. There was a man in court watching the case +on behalf of the Company. I gave him my name in a quiet corner +before I bought my hat, and - come to dinner now; I'll show you the +results afterwards." The telling of his wrongs had worked Wilton +Sargent into a very fine temper, and I do not think that my +conversation soothed him. In the course of the dinner, prompted +by a devil of pure mischief, I dwelt with loving insistence on +certain smells and sounds of New York which go straight to the heart +of the native in foreign parts; and Wilton began to ask many +questions about his associates aforetime - men of the New York Yacht +Club, Storm King, or the Restigouche, owners of rivers, ranches, +and shipping in their playtime, lords of railways, kerosene, wheat, +and cattle in their offices. When the green mint came, I gave him +a peculiarly oily and atrocious cigar, of the brand they sell in the +tessellated, electric-lighted, with expensive-pictures-of-the-nude +adorned bar of the Pandemonium, and Wilton chewed the end for +several minutes ere he lit it. The butler left us alone, and the +chimney of the oak-panelled diningroom began to smoke. + +"That's another!" said he, poking the fire savagely, and I knew +what he meant. One cannot put steam-heat in houses where Queen +Elizabeth slept. The steady beat of a night-mail, whirling down +the valley, recalled me to business. "What about the Great +Buchonian?" I said. + +"Come into my study. That's all - as yet." + +It was a pile of Seidlitz-powders-coloured correspondence, perhaps +nine inches high, and it looked very businesslike. + +"You can go through it," said Wilton. "Now I could take a chair +and a red flag and go into Hyde Park and say the most atrocious +things about your Queen, and preach anarchy and all that, y' know, +till I was hoarse, and no one would take any notice. The Police +damn 'em! - would protect me if I got into trouble. But for a +little thing like flagging a dirty little sawed-off train, - +running through my own grounds, too, - I get the whole British +Constitution down on me as if I sold bombs. I don't understand it." + +"No more does the Great Buchonian - apparently." I was turning over +the letters. "Here's the traffic superintendent writing that it's +utterly incomprehensible that any man should ... Good heavens, +Wilton, you have done it!" I giggled, as I read on. + +"What's funny now?" said my host. + +"It seems that you, or Howard for you, stopped the three-forty +Northern down." + +"I ought to know that! They all had their knife into me, from the +engine-driver up." + +"But it's the three-forty - the Induna - surely you've heard of +the Great Buchonian's Induna!" + +"How the deuce am I to know one train from another? They come along +about every two minutes." + +"Quite so. But this happens to be the Induna - the one train of +the whole line. She's timed for fifty-seven miles an hour. She was +put on early in the Sixties, and she has never been stopped - " + +"I know! Since William the Conqueror came over, or King Charles hid +in her smoke-stack. You're as bad as the rest of these Britishers. +If she's been run all that while, it's time she was flagged once or +twice." + +The American was beginning to ooze out all over Wilton, and his +small-boned hands were moving restlessly. + +"Suppose you flagged the Empire State Express, or the Western Cyclone?" + +"Suppose I did. I know Otis Harvey - or used to. I'd send him a wire, +and he'd understand it was a ground-hog case with me. That's exactly +what I told this British fossil company here." + +"Have you been answering their letters without legal advice, then?" + +"Of course I have." + +"Oh, my Sainted Country! Go ahead, Wilton." + +"I wrote 'em that I'd be very happy to see their president and +explain to him in three words all about it; but that wouldn't do. +'Seems their president must be a god. He was too busy, and - well, +you can read for yourself - they wanted explanations. The +stationmaster at Amberley Royal - and he grovels before me, as a +rule - wanted an explanation, and quick, too. The head sachem at +St. Botolph's wanted three or four, and the Lord High Mukkamuk that +oils the locomotives wanted one every fine day. I told 'em - I've +told hem about fifty times - I stopped their holy and sacred train +because I wanted to board her. Did they think I wanted to feel +her pulse?" + +"You didn't say that?" + +"Feel her pulse'? Of course not." + +"No. 'Board her.'" + +"What else could I say?" + +"My dear Wilton, what is the use of Mrs. Sherborne, and the Clays, +and all that lot working over you for four years to make an +Englishman out of you, if the very first time you're rattled you go +back to the vernacular?" + +"I'm through with Mrs. Sherborne and the rest of the crowd. America's +good enough for me. What ought I to have said? 'Please,' or 'thanks +awf'ly or how?" + +There was no chance now of mistaking the man's nationality. Speech, +gesture, and step, so carefully drilled into him, had gone away with +the borrowed mask of indifference. It was a lawful son of the +Youngest People, whose predecessors were the Red Indian. His voice +had risen to the high, throaty crow of his breed when they labour +under excitement. His close-set eyes showed by turns unnecessary +fear, annoyance beyond reason, rapid and purposeless flights of +thought, the child's lust for immediate revenge, and the child's +pathetic bewilderment, who knocks his head against the bad, wicked +table. And on the other side, I knew, stood the Company, as unable +as Wilton to understand. + +"And I could buy their old road three times over," he muttered, +playing with a paper-knife, and moving restlessly to and fro. + +"You didn't tell 'em that, I hope!" + +There was no answer; but as I went through the letters, I felt that +Wilton must have told them many surprising things. The Great +Buchonian had first asked for an explanation of the stoppage of +their Induna, and had found a certain levity in the explanation +tendered. It then advised " Mr. W. Sargent" to refer his +solicitor to their solicitor, or whatever the legal phrase is. + +"And you didn't?" I said, looking up. + +"No. They were treating me exactly as if I had been a kid playing +on the cable-tracks. There was not the least necessity for any +solicitor. Five minutes' quiet talk would have settled everything." + +I returned to the correspondence. The Great Buchonian regretted +that, owing to pressure of business, none of their directors could +accept Mr. W. Sargent's invitation to run down and discuss the +difficulty. The Great Buchonian was careful to point out that no +animus underlay their action, nor was money their object. Their +duty was to protect the interests of their line, and these interests +could not be protected if a precedent were established whereby any +of the Queen's subjects could stop a train in mid-career. Again +(this was another branch of the correspondence, not more than five +heads of departments being concerned), the Company admitted that +there was some reasonable doubt as to the duties of express-trains +in all crises, and the matter was open to settlement by process of +law till an authoritative ruling was obtained - from the House of +Lords, if necessary. + +"That broke me all up," said Wilton, who was reading over my +shoulder. "I knew I'd struck the British Constitution at last. +The House of Lords - my Lord! And, anyway, I'm not one of the +Queen's subjects." + +"Why, I had a notion that you'd got yourself naturalised." + +Wilton blushed hotly as he explained that very many things must +happen to the British Constitution ere he took out his papers. + +"How does it all strike you?" he said. "Isn't the Great Buchonian +crazy?" + +"I don't know. You've done something that no one ever thought of +doing before, and the Company don't know what to make of it. I see +they offer to send down their solicitor and another official of the +Company to talk things over informally. Then here's another letter +suggesting that you put up a fourteen-foot wall, crowned with +bottle-glass, at the bottom of the garden." + +"Talk of British insolence! The man who recommends that (he's +another bloated functionary) says that I shall 'derive great pleasure +from watching the wall going up day by day'! Did you ever dream of +such gall? I've offered 'em money enough to buy a new set of cars +and pension the driver for three generations; but that doesn't seem +to be what they want. They expect me to go to the House of Lords +and get a ruling, and build walls between times. Are they all stark, +raving mad? One 'ud think I made a profession of flagging trains. +How in Tophet was I to know their old Induna from a waytrain? I +took the first that came along, and I've been jailed and fined for +that once already." + +"That was for slugging the guard." + +"He had no right to haul me out when I was half-way through a window." + +"What are you going to do about it?" + +"Their lawyer and the other official (can't they trust their men +unless they send 'em in pairs?) are coming hereto-night. I told 'em +I was busy, as a rule, till after dinner, but they might send along +the entire directorate if it eased 'em any." + +Now, after-dinner visiting, for business or pleasure, is the custom +of the smaller American town, and not that of England, where the end +of the day is sacred to the owner, not the public. Verily, Wilton +Sargent had hoisted the striped flag of rebellion! + +"Isn't it time that the humour of the situation began to strike you, +Wilton?" I asked. + +"Where's the humour of baiting an American citizen just because he +happens to be a millionaire - poor devil." He was silent for a +little time, and then went on: "Of course. Now I see!" He spun +round and faced me excitedly. "It's as plain as mud. These ducks +are laying their pipes to skin me." + +"They say explicitly they don't want money!" + +"That's all a blind. So's their addressing me as W. Sargent. They +know well enough who I am. They know I'm the old man's son. Why +didn't I think of that before?" + +"One minute, Wilton. If you climbed to the top of the dome of St. +Paul's and offered a reward to any Englishman who could tell you who +or what Merton Sargent had been, there wouldn't be twenty men in all +London to claim it." + +"That's their insular provincialism, then. I don't care a cent. +The old man would have wrecked the Great Buchonian before breakfast +for a pipe-opener. My God, I'll do it in dead earnest! I'll show +'em that they can't bulldoze a foreigner for flagging one of their +little tinpot trains, and - I've spent fifty thousand a year here, +at least, for the last four years." + +I was glad I was not his lawyer. I re-read the correspondence, +notably the letter which recommended him - almost tenderly, I +fancied - to build a fourteen-foot brick wall at the end of his +garden, and half-way through it a thought struck me which filled +me with pure joy. + +The footman ushered in two men, frock-coated, grey-trousered, +smooth-shaven, heavy of speech and gait. It was nearly nine o'clock, +but they looked as newly come from a bath. I could not understand +why the elder and taller of the pair glanced at me as though we had +an understanding; nor why he shook hands with an unEnglish warmth. + +"This simplifies the situation," he said in an undertone, and, as I +stared, he whispered to his companion: "I fear I shall be of very +little service at present. Perhaps Mr. Folsom had better talk over +the affair with Mr. Sargent." + +"That is what I am here for," said Wilton. + +The man of law smiled pleasantly, and said that he saw no reason +why the difficulty should not be arranged in two minutes' quiet +talk. His air, as he sat down opposite Wilton, was soothing to the +last degree, and his companion drew me up-stage. The mystery was +deepening, but I followed meekly, and heard Wilton say, with an +uneasy laugh: + +"I've had insomnia over this affair, Mr. Folsom. Let's settle it +one way or the other, for heaven's sake!" + +"Ah! Has he suffered much from this lately?" said my man, with a +preliminary cough. + +"I really can't say," I replied. + +"Then I suppose you have only lately taken charge here?" + +"I came this evening. I am not exactly in charge of anything." + +"I see. Merely to observe the course of events in case - " He +nodded. + +" Exactly." Observation, after all, is my trade. + +He coughed again slightly, and came to business. + +"Now, - I am asking solely for information's sake, - do you find +the delusions persistent?" + +"Which delusions?" + +"They are variable, then? That is distinctly curious, because - but +do I understand that the type of the delusion varies? For example, +Mr. Sargent believes that he can buy the Great Buchonian." + +"Did he write you that?" + +"He made the offer to the Company - on a half-sheet of note-paper. +Now, has he by chance gone to the other extreme, and believed that +he is in danger of becoming a pauper? The curious economy in the +use of a half-sheet of paper shows that some idea of that kind might +have flashed through his mind, and the two delusions can coexist, +but it is not common. As you must know, the delusion of vast wealth + - the folly of grandeurs, I believe our friends the French call it - +is, as a rule, persistent, to the exclusion of all others." + +Then I heard Wilton's best English voice at the end of the study: + +"My dear sir, I have explained twenty times already, I wanted to get +that scarab in time for dinner. Suppose you had left an important +legal document in the same way?" + +"That touch of cunning is very significant," my fellow-practitioner + - since he insisted on it - muttered. + +"I am very happy, of course, to meet you; but if you had only sent +your president down to dinner here, I could have settled the thing +in half a minute. Why, I could have bought the Buchonian from him +while your clerks were sending me this." Wilton dropped his hand +heavily on the blue-and-white correspondence, and the lawyer started. + +"But, speaking frankly," the lawyer replied, "it is, if I may say +so, perfectly inconceivable, even in the case of the most important +legal documents, that any one should stop the three-forty express + - the Induna - Our Induna, my dear sir." + +"Absolutely!" my companion echoed; then to me in a lower tone: "You +notice, again, the persistent delusion of wealth. I was called in +when he wrote us that. You can see it is utterly impossible for +the Company to continue to run their trains through the property of +a man who may at any moment fancy himself divinely commissioned to +stop all traffic. If he had only referred us to his lawyer - but, +naturally, that he would not do, under the circumstances. A pity + - a great pity. He is so young. By the way, it is curious, is it +not, to note the absolute conviction in the voice of those who are +similarly afflicted, - heart-rending, I might say, and the inability +to follow a chain of connected thought." + +"I can't see what you want," Wilton was saying to the lawyer. + +"It need not be more than fourteen feet high - a really desirable +structure, and it would be possible to grow pear trees on the sunny +side." The lawyer was speaking in an unprofessional voice. "There +are few things pleasanter than to watch, so to say, one's own vine +and fig tree in full bearing. Consider the profit and amusement you +would derive from it. If you could see your way to doing this, we +could arrange all the details with your lawyer, and it is possible +that the Company might bear some of the cost. I have put the matter, +I trust, in a nutshell. If you, my dear sir, will interest yourself +in building that wall, and will kindly give us the name of your +lawyers, I dare assure you that you will hear no more from the Great +Buchonian." + +"But why am I to disfigure my lawn with a new brick wall?" + +"Grey flint is extremely picturesque." + +"Grey flint, then, if you put it that way. Why the dickens must I +go building towers of Babylon just because I have held up one of +your trains-once?" + +"The expression he used in his third letter was that he wished to +'board her,'" said my companion in my ear. "That was very curious + - a marine delusion impinging, as it were, upon a land one. What +a marvellous world he must move in - and will before the curtain +falls. So young, too - so very young!" + +"Well, if you want the plain English of it, I'm damned if I go +wall-building to your orders. You can fight it all along the line, +into the House of Lords and out again, and get your rulings by the +running foot if you like," said Wilton, hotly. "Great heavens, man, +I only did it once!" + +"We have at present no guarantee that you may not do it again; and, +with our traffic, we must, in justice to our passengers, demand +some form of guarantee. It must not serve as a precedent. All this +might have been saved if you had only referred us to your legal +representative." The lawyer looked appealingly around the room. +The dead-lock was complete. + +Wilton," I asked, "may I try my hand now?" + +"Anything you like," said Wilton. "It seems I can't talk English. +I won't build any wall, though." He threw himself back in his +chair. + +" Gentlemen," I said deliberately, for I perceived that the doctor's +mind would turn slowly, "Mr. Sargent has very large interests in the +chief railway systems of his own country." + +"His own country?" said the lawyer. + +"At that age?" said the doctor. + +"Certainly. He inherited them from his father, Mr. Sargent, who +was an American." + +"And proud of it," said Wilton, as though he had been a Western +Senator let loose on the Continent for the first time. + +"My dear sir," said the lawyer, half rising, "why did you not +acquaint the Company with this fact - this vital fact - early in +our correspondence? We should have understood. We should have +made allowances." + +"Allowances be damned. Am I a Red Indian or a lunatic?" + +The two men looked guilty. + +"If Mr. Sargent's friend had told us as much in the beginning," +said the doctor, very severely, "much might have been saved." Alas! +I had made a life's enemy of that doctor. + +"I hadn't a chance," I replied. "Now, of course, you can see that a +man who owns several thousand miles of line, as Mr. Sargent does, +would be apt to treat railways a shade more casually than other +people." + +"Of course; of course. He is an American; that accounts. Still, +it was the Induna; but I can quite understand that the customs of +our cousins across the water differ in these particulars from ours. +And do you always stop trains in this way in the States, Mr. +Sargent?" + +"I should if occasion ever arose; but I've never had to yet. Are +you going to make an international complication of the business?" + +"You need give yourself no further concern whatever in the matter. +We see that there is no likelihood of this action of yours +establishing a precedent, which was the only thing we were afraid +of. Now that you understand that we cannot reconcile our system +to any sudden stoppages, we feel quite sure that - " + +"I sha'n't be staying long enough to flag another train," Wilton +said pensively. + +"You are returning, then, to our fellow-kinsmen across the-ah-big +pond, you call it?" + +"No, sir. The ocean - the North Atlantic Ocean. It's three +thousand miles broad, and three miles deep in places. I wish it +were ten thousand." + +"I am not so fond of sea-travel myself; but I think it is every +Englishman's duty once in his life to study the great branch of +our Anglo-Saxon race across the ocean," said the lawyer. + +"If ever you come over, and care to flag any train on my system, +I'll - I'll see you through," said Wilton. + +"Thank you - ah, thank you. You're very kind. I'm sure I should +enjoy myself immensely." + +"We have overlooked the fact," the doctor whispered to me, "that +your friend proposed to buy the Great Buchonian." + +"He is worth anything from twenty to thirty million dollars - four +to five million pounds," I answered, knowing that it would be +hopeless to explain. + +"Really! That is enormous wealth. But the Great Buchonian is not +in the market." + +"Perhaps he does not want to buy it now." + +"It would be impossible under any circumstances," said the doctor. + +"How characteristic!" murmured the lawyer, reviewing matters in his +mind. "I always understood from books that your countrymen were in +a hurry. And so you would have gone forty miles to town and back + - before dinner - to get a scarab? How intensely American! But +you talk exactly like an Englishman, Mr. Sargent." + +"That is a fault that can be remedied. There's only one question +I'd like to ask you. You said it was inconceivable that any man +should stop a train on your road?" + +"And so it is-absolutely inconceivable." + +"Any sane man, that is?" + +"That is what I meant, of course. I mean, with excep - " + +"Thank you." + +The two men departed. Wilton checked himself as he was about to +fill a pipe, took one of my cigars instead, and was silent for +fifteen minutes. + +Then said he: "Have you got a list of the Southampton sailings on +you?" + +Far away from the greystone wings, the dark cedars, the faultless +gravel drives, and the mint-sauce lawns of Holt Hangars runs a +river called the Hudson, whose unkempt banks are covered with the +palaces of those wealthy beyond the dreams of avarice. Here, where +the hoot of the Haverstraw brick-barge-tug answers the howl of the +locomotive on either shore, you shall find, with a complete +installation of electric light, nickel-plated binnacles, and a +calliope attachment to her steam-whistle, the twelve-hundred-ton +ocean-going steam-yacht Columbia, lying at her private pier, to +take to his office, at an average speed of seventeen knots an +hour, - and the barges can look out for themselves, - Wilton Sargent, +American. + + + + +MY SUNDAY AT HOME + + + If the Red Slayer think he slays, + Or if the slain think he is slain, + They know not well the subtle ways + I keep and pass and turn again. + EMERSON. + +It was the unreproducible slid r, as he said this was his "fy-ist" +visit to England, that told me he was a New-Yorker from New York; +and when, in the course of our long, lazy journey westward from +Waterloo, he enlarged upon the beauties of his city, I, professing +ignorance, said no word. He had, amazed and delighted at the man's +civility, given the London porter a shilling for carrying his bag +nearly fifty yards; he had thoroughly investigated the first-class +lavatory compartment, which the London and Southwestern sometimes +supply without extra charge; and now, half-awed, half-contemptuous, +but wholly interested, he looked out upon the ordered English +landscape wrapped in its Sunday peace, while I watched the wonder +grow upon his face. Why were the cars so short and stilted? Why +had every other freight-car a tarpaulin drawn over it? What wages +would an engineer get now? Where was the swarming population of +England he had read so much about? What was the rank of all those +men on tricycles along the roads? When were we due at Plymouth +I told him all I knew, and very much that I did not. He was going +to Plymouth to assist in a consultation upon a fellow-countryman +who had retired to a place called The Hoe - was that up-town or +down-town - to recover from nervous dyspepsia. Yes, he himself +was a doctor by profession, and how any one in England could +retain any nervous disorder passed his comprehension. Never had +he dreamed of an atmosphere so soothing. Even the deep rumble of +London traffic was monastical by comparison with some cities he +could name; and the country - why, it was Paradise. A continuance +of it, he confessed, would drive him mad; but for a few months it +was the most sumptuous rest-cure in his knowledge. + +"I'll come over every year after this," he said, in a burst of +delight, as we ran between two ten-foot hedges of pink and white +may. "It's seeing all the things I've ever read about. Of course +it doesn't strike you that way. I presume you belong here? What +a finished land it is! It's arrived. 'Must have been born this +way. Now, where I used to live - Hello I what's up?" + +The train stopped in a blaze of sunshine at Framlynghame Admiral, +which is made up entirely of the name-board, two platforms, and an +overhead bridge, without even the usual siding. I had never known +the slowest of locals stop here before; but on Sunday all things +are possible to the London and Southwestern. One could hear the +drone of conversation along the carriages, and, scarcely less loud, +the drone of the bumblebees in the wallflowers up the bank. My +companion thrust his head through the window and sniffed luxuriously. + +"Where are we now?" said he. + +"In Wiltshire," said I. + +"Ah! A man ought to be able to write novels with his left hand in +a country like this. Well, well! And so this is about Tess's +country, ain't it? I feel just as if I were in a book. Say, the +conduc - the guard has something on his mind. What's he getting +at?" + +The splendid badged and belted guard was striding up the platform +at the regulation official pace, and in the regulation official +voice was saying at each door: + +"Has any gentleman here a bottle of medicine? A gentleman has taken +a bottle of poison (laudanum) by mistake." + +Between each five paces he looked at an official telegram in his +hand, refreshed his memory, and said his say. The dreamy look on +my companion's face - he had gone far away with Tess - passed with +the speed of a snap-shutter. After the manner of his countrymen, +he had risen to the situation, jerked his bag down from the overhead +rail, opened it, and I heard the click of bottles. "Find out where +the man is," he said briefly. "I've got something here that will +fix him - if he can swallow still." + +Swiftly I fled up the line of carriages in the wake of the guard. +There was clamour in a rear compartment - the voice of one bellowing +to be let out, and the feet of one who kicked. With the tail of my +eye I saw the New York doctor hastening thither, bearing in his hand +a blue and brimming glass from the lavatory compartment. The guard +I found scratching his head unofficially, by the engine, and +murmuring: "Well, I put a bottle of medicine off at Andover - I'm +sure I did." + +"Better say it again, any'ow',' said the driver. "Orders is orders. +Say it again." + +Once more the guard paced back, I, anxious to attract his attention, +trotting at his heels. + +"In a minute - in a minute, sir," he said, waving an arm capable of +starting all the traffic on the London and Southwestern Railway at +a wave. "Has any gentleman here got a bottle of medicine? A +gentleman has taken a bottle of poison (laudanum) by mistake." + +"Where's the man?" I gasped. + +"Woking. 'Ere's my orders." He showed me the telegram, on which +were the words to be said. "'E must have left 'is bottle in the +train, an' took another by mistake. 'E's been wirin' from Woking +awful, an', now I come to think of, it, I'm nearly sure I put a +bottle of medicine off at Andover." + +"Then the man that took the poison isn't in the train?" + +"Lord, no, sir. No one didn't take poison that way. 'E took it +away with 'im, in 'is 'ands. 'E's wirin' from Wokin'. My orders +was to ask everybody in the train, and I 'ave, an' we're four minutes +late now. Are you comin' on, sir? No? Right be'ind!" + +There is nothing, unless, perhaps, the English language, more +terrible than the workings of an English railway-line. An instant +before it seemed as though we were going to spend all eternity at +Framlynghame Admiral, and now I was watching the tail of the train +disappear round the curve of the cutting. + +But I was not alone. On the one bench of the down platform sat the +largest navvy I have ever seen in my life, softened and made affable +(for he smiled generously) with liquor. In his huge hands he nursed +an empty tumbler marked "L.S.W.R." - marked also, internally, with +streaks of blue-grey sediment. Before him, a hand on his shoulder, +stood the doctor, and as I came within ear-shot, this is what I +heard him say: "Just you hold on to your patience for a minute or +two longer, and you'll be as right as ever you were in your life. +I'll stay with you till you're better." + +"Lord! I'm comfortable enough," said the navvy. "Never felt better +in my life." + +Turning to me, the doctor lowered his voice. "He might have died +while that fool conduct-guard was saying his piece. I've fixed him, +though. The stuff's due in about five minutes, but there's a heap +to him. I don't see how we can make him take exercise." + +For the moment I felt as though seven pounds of crushed ice had been +neatly applied in the form of a compress to my lower stomach. + +"How - how did you manage it?" I gasped. + +"I asked him if he'd have a drink. He was knocking spots out of +the car - strength of his constitution, I suppose. He said he'd +go 'most anywhere for a drink, so I lured onto the platform, and +loaded him up. 'Cold-blooded people, you Britishers are. That +train's gone, and no one seemed to care a cent." + +"We've missed it," I said. + +He looked at me curiously. + +We'll get another before sundown, if that's your only trouble. Say, +porter, when's the next train down?" + +"Seven forty-five," said the one porter, and passed out through the +wicket-gate into the landscape. It was then three-twenty of a hot +and sleepy afternoon. The station was absolutely deserted. The +navvy had closed his eyes, and now nodded. + +"That's bad," said the doctor. "The man, I mean, not the train. +We must make him walk somehowwalk up and down." + +Swiftly as might be, I explained the delicacy of the situation, and +the doctor from New York turned a full bronze-green. Then he swore +comprehensively at the entire fabric of our glorious Constitution, +cursing the English language, root, branch, and paradigm, through +its most obscure derivatives. His coat and bag lay on the bench +next to the sleeper. Thither he edged cautiously, and I saw +treachery in his eye. + +What devil of delay possessed him to slip on his spring overcoat, I +cannot tell. They say a slight noise rouses a sleeper more surely +than a heavy one, and scarcely had the doctor settled himself in his +sleeves than the giant waked and seized that silk-faced collar in a +hot right hand. There was rage in his face-rage and the realisation +of new emotions. + +"I'm - I'm not so comfortable as I were," he said from the deeps of +his interior. "You'll wait along o' me, you will." He breathed +heavily through shut lips. + +Now, if there was one thing more than another upon which the doctor +had dwelt in his conversation with me, it was upon the essential +law-abidingness, not to say gentleness, of his much-misrepresented +country. And yet (truly, it may have been no more than a button +that irked him) I saw his hand travel backwards to his right hip, +clutch at something, and come away empty. + +"He won't kill you," I said. "He'll probably sue you in court, if +I know my own people. Better give him some money from time to time." + +"If he keeps quiet till the stuff gets in its work," the doctor +answered, "I'm all right. If he doesn't ... my name is Emory - +Julian B. Emory - 193 'Steenth Street, corner of Madison and - " + +"I feel worse than I've ever felt," said the navvy, with suddenness. +"What-did-you-give-me-the-drink-for?" + +The matter seemed to be so purely personal that I withdrew to a +strategic position on the overhead bridge, and, abiding in the exact +centre, looked on from afar. + +I could see the white road that ran across the shoulder of Salisbury +Plain, unshaded for mile after mile, and a dot in the middle +distance, the back of the one porter returning to Framlynghame +Admiral, if such a place existed, till seven forty-five. The bell +of a church invisible clanked softly. There was a rustle in the +horse-chestnuts to the left of the line, and the sound of sheep +cropping close. + +The peace of Nirvana lay upon the land, and, brooding in it, my +elbow on the warm iron girder of the footbridge (it is a +forty-shilling fine to cross by any other means), I perceived, as +never before, how the consequences of our acts run eternal through +time and through space. If we impinge never so slightly upon the +life of a fellow-mortal, the touch of our personality, like the +ripple of a stone cast into a pond, widens and widens in unending +circles across the aeons, till the far-off Gods themselves cannot +say where action ceases. Also, it was I who had silently set +before the doctor the tumbler of the first-class lavatory compartment +now speeding Plymouthward. Yet I was, in spirit at least, a million +leagues removed from that unhappy man of another nationality, who +had chosen to thrust an inexpert finger into the workings of an +alien life. The machinery was dragging him up and down the sunlit +platform. The two men seemed to be learning polka-mazurkas together, +and the burden of their song, borne by one deep voice, was: "What +did you give me the drink for?" + +I saw the flash of silver in the doctor's hand. The navvy took it +and pocketed it with his left; but never for an instant did his +strong right leave the doctor's coat-collar, and as the crisis +approached, louder and louder rose his bull-like roar: "What did you +give me the drink for?" + +They drifted under the great twelve-inch pinned timbers of the +foot-bridge towards the bench, and, I gathered, the time was very +near at hand. The stuff was getting in its work. Blue, white, and +blue again, rolled over the navvy's face in waves, till all settled +to one rich clay-bank yellow and - that fell which fell. + +I thought of the blowing up of Hell Gate; of the geysers in the +Yellowstone Park; of Jonah and his whale: but the lively original, +as I watched it foreshortened from above, exceeded all these things. +He staggered to the bench, the heavy wooden seat cramped with iron +cramps into the enduring stone, and clung there with his left hand. +It quivered and shook, as a breakwater-pile quivers to the rush of +landward-racing seas; nor was there lacking when he caught his +breath, the "scream of a maddened beach dragged down by the tide." +His right hand was upon the doctor's collar, so that the two shook +to one paroxysm, pendulums vibrating together, while I, apart, shook +with them. + +It was colossal-immense; but of certain manifestations the English +language stops short. French only, the caryatid French of Victor +Hugo, would have described it; so I mourned while I laughed, hastily +shuffling and discarding inadequate adjectives. The vehemence of +the shock spent itself, and the sufferer half fell, half knelt, +across the bench. He was calling now upon God and his wife, huskily, +as the wounded bull calls upon the unscathed herd to stay. Curiously +enough, he used no bad language: that had gone from him with the +rest. The doctor exhibited gold. It was taken and retained. So, +too, was the grip on the coat-collar. + +"If I could stand," boomed the giant, despairingly, "I'd smash you + - you an' your drinks. I'm dyin' - dyin' -dyin'!" + +"That's what you think," said the doctor. "You'll find it will do +you a lot of good"; and, making a virtue of a somewhat imperative +necessity, he added: "I'll stay by you. If you'd let go of me a +minute I'd give you something that would settle you." + +"You've settled me now, you damned anarchist. Takin' the bread out +of the mouth of an English workin'man! But I'll keep 'old of you +till I'm well or dead. I never did you no 'arm. S'pose I were a +little full. They pumped me out once at Guy's with a stummick-pump. +I could see that, but I can't see this 'ere, an' it's killin' of me +by slow degrees." + +"You'll be all right in half-an-hour. What do you suppose I'd want +to kill you for?" said the doctor, who came of a logical breed. + +"'Ow do I know? Tell 'em in court. You'll get seven years for +this, you body-snatcher. That's what you are - a bloomin' +bodysnatcher. There's justice, I tell you, in England; and my +Union'll prosecute, too. We don't stand no tricks with people's +insides 'ere. They give a woman ten years for a sight less than +this. An' you'll 'ave to pay 'undreds an' 'undreds o' pounds, +besides a pension to the missus. You'll see, you physickin' +furriner. Where's your licence to do such? You'll catch it, +I tell you!" + +Then I observed what I have frequently observed before, that a man +who is but reasonably afraid of an altercation with an alien has a +most poignant dread of the operations of foreign law. The doctor's +voice was flute-like in its exquisite politeness, as he answered: + +"But I've given you a very great deal of money - fif-three pounds, +I think." + +"An' what's three pound for poisonin' the likes o' me? They told +me at Guy's I'd fetch twenty-cold-on the slates. Ouh! It's comin' +again." + +A second time he was cut down by the foot, as it were, and the +straining bench rocked to and fro as I averted my eyes. + +It was the very point of perfection in the heart of an English +May-day. The unseen tides of the air had turned, and all nature +was setting its face with the shadows of the horse-chestnuts +towards the peace of the coming night. But there were hours yet, +I knew - long, long hours of the eternal English twilight - to +the ending of the day. I was well content to be alive - to +abandon myself to the drift of Time and Fate; to absorb great peace +through my skin, and to love my country with the devotion that three +thousand miles of intervening sea bring to fullest flower. And what +a garden of Eden it was, this fatted, clipped, and washen land! A +man could camp in any open field with more sense of home and security +than the stateliest buildings of foreign cities could afford. And +the joy was that it was all mine alienably - groomed hedgerow, +spotless road, decent greystone cottage, serried spinney, tasselled +copse, apple-bellied hawthorn, and well-grown tree. A light puff +of wind - it scattered flakes of may over the gleaming rails - gave +me a faint whiff as it might have been of fresh cocoanut, and I +knew that the golden gorse was in bloom somewhere out of sight. +Linneeus had thanked God on his bended knees when he first saw a +field of it; and, by the way, the navvy was on his knees, too. But +he was by no means praying. He was purely disgustful. + +The doctor was compelled to bend over him, his face towards the +back of the seat, and from what I had seen I supposed the navvy +was now dead. If that were the case it would be time for me to go; +but I knew that so long as a man trusts himself to the current of +Circumstance, reaching out for and rejecting nothing that comes his +way, no harm can overtake him. It is the contriver, the schemer, +who is caught by the Law, and never the philosopher. I knew that +when the play was played, Destiny herself would move me on from the +corpse; and I felt very sorry for the doctor. + +In the far distance, presumably upon the road that led to +Framlynghame Admiral, there appeared a vehicle and a horse - the +one ancient fly that almost every village can produce at need. This +thing was advancing, unpaid by me, towards the station; would have +to pass along the deep-cut lane, below the railway-bridge, and come +out on the doctor's side. I was in the centre of things, so all +sides were alike to me. Here, then, was my machine from the machine. +When it arrived; something would happen, or something else. For the +rest, I owned my deeply interested soul. + +The doctor, by the seat, turned so far as his cramped position +allowed, his head over his left shoulder, and laid his right hand +upon his lips. I threw back my hat and elevated my eyebrows in the +form of a question. The doctor shut his eyes and nodded his head +slowly twice or thrice, beckoning me to come. I descended +cautiously, and it was as the signs had told. The navvy was asleep, +empty to the lowest notch; yet his hand clutched still the doctor's +collar, and at the lightest movement (the doctor was really very +cramped) tightened mechanically, as the hand of a sick woman tightens +on that of the watcher. He had dropped, squatting almost upon his +heels, and, falling lower, had dragged the doctor over to the left. + +The doctor thrust his right hand, which was free, into his pocket, +drew forth some keys, and shook his head. The navvy gurgled in his +sleep. Silently I dived into my pocket, took out one sovereign, +and held it up between finger and thumb. Again the doctor shook +his head. Money was not what was lacking to his peace. His bag +had fallen from the seat to the ground. He looked towards it, and +opened his mouth-O-shape. The catch was not a difficult one, and +when I had mastered it, the doctor's right forefinger was sawing +the air. With an immense caution, I extracted from the bag such a +knife as they use for cutting collops off legs. The doctor frowned, +and with his first and second fingers imitated the action of +scissors. Again I searched, and found a most diabolical pair of +cock-nosed shears, capable of vandyking the interiors of elephants. +The doctor then slowly lowered his left shoulder till the navvy's +right wrist was supported by the bench, pausing a moment as the +spent volcano rumbled anew. Lower and lower the doctor sank, +kneeling now by the navvy's side, till his head was on a level +with, and just in front of, the great hairy fist, and - there was +no tension on the coat-collar. Then light dawned on me. + +Beginning a little to the right of the spinal column, I cut a huge +demilune out of his new spring overcoat, bringing it round as far +under his left side (which was the right side of the navvy) as I +dared. Passing thence swiftly to the back of the seat, and reaching +between the splines, I sawed through the silk-faced front on the +left-hand side of the coat till the two cuts joined. + +Cautiously as the box-turtle of his native heath, the doctor drew +away sideways and to the right, with the air of a frustrated burglar +coming out from under a bed, and stood up free, one black diagonal +shoulder projecting through the grey of his ruined overcoat. I +returned the scissors to the bag, snapped the catch, and held all +out to him as the wheels of the fly rang hollow under the railway +arch. + +It came at a footpace past the wicket-gate of the station, and the +doctor stopped it with a whisper. It was going some five miles +across country to bring home from church some one, - I could not +catch the name, - because his own carriage-horses were lame. Its +destination happened to be the one place in all the world that the +doctor was most burningly anxious to visit, and he promised the +driver untold gold to drive to some ancient flame of his - Helen +Blazes, she was called. + +"Aren't you coming, too?" he said, bundling his overcoat into his +bag. + +Now the fly had been so obviously sent to the doctor, and to no +one else, that I had no concern with it. Our roads, I saw, divided, +and there was, further, a need upon me to laugh. + +"I shall stay here," I said. "It's a very pretty country." + +"My God!" he murmured, as softly as he shut the door, and I felt +that it was a prayer. + +Then he went out of my life, and I shaped my course for the +railway-bridge. It was necessary to pass by the bench once more, +but the wicket was between us. The departure of the fly had waked +the navvy. He crawled on to the seat, and with malignant eyes +watched the driver flog down the road. + +"The man inside o' that," he called, "'as poisoned me. 'E's a +body-snatcher. 'E's comin' back again when I'm cold. 'Ere's my +evidence!" + +He waved his share of the overcoat, and I went my way, because I +was hungry. Framlynghame Admiral village is a good two miles from +the station, and I waked the holy calm of the evening every step +of that way with shouts and yells, casting myself down in the +flank of the good green hedge when I was too weak to stand. There +was an inn, - a blessed inn with a thatched roof, and peonies in +the garden,- and I ordered myself an upper chamber in which the +Foresters held their courts for the laughter was not all out of +me. A bewildered woman brought me ham and eggs, and I leaned out +of the mullioned window, and laughed between mouthfuls. I sat +long above the beer and the perfect smoke that followed, till the +lights changed in the quiet street, and I began to think of the +seven forty-five down, and all that world of the "Arabian Nights" +I had quitted. + +Descending, I passed a giant in moleskins who filled the low-ceiled +tap-room. Many empty plates stood before him, and beyond them a +fringe of the Framlynghame Admiralty, to whom he was unfolding a +wondrous tale of anarchy, of body-snatching, of bribery, and the +Valley of the Shadow from the which he was but newly risen. And as +he talked he ate, and as he ate he drank, for there was much room +in him; and anon he paid royally, speaking of Justice and the Law, +before whom all Englishmen are equal, and all foreigners and +anarchists vermin and slime. + +On my way to the station, he passed me with great strides, his head +high among the low-flying bats, his feet firm on the packed +road-metal, his fists clinched, and his breath coming sharply. There +was a beautiful smell in the air - the smell of white dust, bruised +nettles, and smoke, that brings tears to the throat of a man who +sees his country but seldom - a smell like the echoes of the lost +talk of lovers; the infinitely suggestive odour of an immemorial +civilisation. It was a perfect walk; and, lingering on every step, +I came to the station just as the one porter lighted the last of +a truckload of lamps, and set them back in the lamp-room, while he +dealt tickets to four or five of the population who, not contented +with their own peace, thought fit to travel. It was no ticket that +the navvy seemed to need. He was sitting on a bench, wrathfully +grinding a tumbler into fragments with his heel. I abode in +obscurity at the end of the platform, interested as ever, thank +Heaven, in my surroundings. There was a jar of wheels on the road. +The navvy rose as they approached, strode through the wicket, and +laid a hand upon a horse's bridle that brought the beast up on his +hireling hind legs. It was the providential fly coming back, and +for a moment I wondered whether the doctor had been mad enough to +revisit his practice. + +"Get away; you're drunk,"said the driver. + +"I'm not," said the navvy. "I've been waitin' 'ere hours and hours. +Come out, you beggar inside there!" + +"Go on, driver," said a voice I did not know - a crisp, clear, +English voice. + +"All right," said the navvy. "You wouldn't 'ear me when I was +polite. Now will you come?" + +There was a chasm in the side of the fly, for he had wrenched the +door bodily off its hinges, and was feeling within purposefully. +A well-booted leg rewarded him, and there came out, not with delight, +hopping on one foot, a round and grey-haired Englishman, from whose +armpits dropped hymn-books, but from his mouth an altogether +different service of song. + +"Come on, you bloomin' body-snatcher! You thought I was dead, did +you?" roared the navvy. And the respectable gentleman came +accordingly, inarticulate with rage. + +"Ere's a man murderin' the Squire," the driver shouted, and fell +from his box upon the navvy's neck. + +To do them justice, the people of Framlynghame Admiral, so many as +were on the platform, rallied to the call in the best spirit of +feudalism. It was the one porter who beat the navvy on the nose +with a ticket-punch, but it was the three third-class tickets who +attached themselves to his legs and freed the captive. + +"Send for a constable! lock him up! " said that man, adjusting his +collar; and unitedly they cast him into the lamp-room, and turned +the key, while the driver mourned over the wrecked fly. + +Till then the navvy, whose only desire was justice, had kept his +temper nobly. Then he went Berserk before our amazed eyes. The +door of the lamp-room was generously constructed, and would not give +an inch, but the window he tore from its fastenings and hurled +outwards. The one porter counted the damage in a loud voice, and +the others, arming themselves with agricultural implements from the +station garden, kept up a ceaseless winnowing before the window, +themselves backed close to the wall, and bade the prisoner think of +the gaol. He answered little to the point, so far as they could +understand; but seeing that his exit was impeded, he took a lamp +and hurled it through the wrecked sash. It fell on the metals and +went out. With inconceivable velocity, the others, fifteen in all, +followed, looking like rockets in the gloom, and with the last (he +could have had no plan) the Berserk rage left him as the doctor's +deadly brewage waked up, under the stimulus of violent exercise and +a very full meal, to one last cataclysmal exhibition, and - we heard +the whistle of the seven forty-five down. + +They were all acutely interested in as much of the wreck as they +could see, for the station smelt to Heaven of oil, and the engine +skittered over broken glass like a terrier in a cucumber-frame. +The guard had to hear of it, and the Squire had his version of the +brutal assault, and heads were out all along the carriages as I +found me a seat. + +"What is the row?" said a young man, as I entered. "'Man drunk?" + +"Well, the symptoms, so far as my observation has gone, more +resemble those of Asiatic cholera than anything else," I answered, +slowly and judicially, that every word might carry weight in the +appointed scheme of things. Up till then, you will observe, I had +taken no part in that war. + +He was an Englishman, but he collected his belongings as swiftly +as had the American, ages before, and leaped upon the platform, +crying: "Can I be of any service? I'm a doctor." + +>From the lamp-room I heard a wearied voice wailing "Another bloomin' +doctor! " + +And the seven forty-five carried me on, a step nearer to Eternity, +by the road that is worn and seamed and channelled with the +passions, and weaknesses, and warring interests of man who is +immortal and master of his fate. + + + + +THE BRUSHWOOD BOY + + Girls and boys, come out to play + The moon is shining as bright as day! + Leave your supper and leave your sleep, + And come with your playfellows out in the street! + Up the ladder and down the wall- + +A CHILD of three sat up in his crib and screamed at the top of his +voice, his fists clinched and his eyes full of terror. At first +no one heard, for his nursery was in the west wing, and the nurse +was talking to a gardener among the laurels. Then the housekeeper +passed that way, and hurried to soothe him. He was her special +pet, and she disapproved of the nurse. + +"What was it, then? What was it, then? There's nothing to frighten +him, Georgie dear." + +"It was - it was a policeman! He was on the Down -I saw him! He +came in. Jane said he would." + +"Policemen don't come into houses, dearie. Turn over, and take my +hand." + +"I saw him - on the Down. He came here. Where is your hand, Harper?" + +The housekeeper waited till the sobs changed to the regular breathing +of sleep before she stole out. + +"Jane, what nonsense have you been telling Master Georgie about +policemen?" + +"I haven't told him anything." + +"You have. He's been dreaming about them." + +"We met Tisdall on Dowhead when we were in the donkey-cart this +morning. P'r'aps that's what put it into his head." + +"Oh! Now you aren't going to frighten the child into fits with your +silly tales, and the master know nothing about it. If ever I catch +you again," etc. + + * * * * * * * * * * * * * + +A child of six was telling himself stories as he lay in bed. It was +a new power, and he kept it a secret. A month before it had occurred +to him to carry on a nursery tale left unfinished by his mother, and +he was delighted to find the tale as it came out of his own head +just as surprising as though he were listening to it "all new from +the beginning." There was a prince in that tale, and he killed +dragons, but only for one night. Ever afterwards Georgie dubbed +himself prince, pasha, giant-killer, and all the rest (you see, he +could not tell any one, for fear of being laughed at), and his tales +faded gradually into dreamland, where adventures were so many that +he could not recall the half of them. They all began in the same +way, or, as Georgie explained to the shadows of the night-light, +there was "the same starting-off place" - a pile of brushwood +stacked somewhere near a beach; and round this pile Georgie found +himself running races with little boys and girls. These ended, +ships ran high up the dry land and opened into cardboard boxes; or +gilt-and-green iron railings that surrounded beautiful gardens turned +all soft and could be walked through and overthrown so long as he +remembered it was only a dream. He could never hold that knowledge +more than a few seconds ere things became real, and instead of +pushing down houses full of grown-up people (a just revenge), he sat +miserably upon gigantic door-steps trying to sing the +multiplication-table up to four times six. + +The princess of his tales was a person of wonderful beauty (she came +from the old illustrated edition of Grimm, now out of print), and +as she always applauded Georgie's valour among the dragons and +buffaloes, he gave her the two finest names he had ever heard in his +life - Annie and Louise, pronounced "Annieanlouise." When the dreams +swamped the stories, she would change into one of the little girls +round the brushwood-pile, still keeping her title and crown. She +saw Georgie drown once in a dream-sea by the beach (it was the day +after he had been taken to bathe in a real sea by his nurse); and he +said as he sank: "Poor Annieanlouise! She'll be sorry for me now!" +But "Annieanlouise," walking slowly on the beach, called, "'Ha! ha!' +said the duck, laughing," which to a waking mind might not seem to +bear on the situation. It consoled Georgie at once, and must have +been some kind of spell, for it raised the bottom of the deep, and +he waded out with a twelve-inch flower-pot on each foot. As he was +strictly forbidden to meddle with flower-pots in real life, he felt +triumphantly wicked. + + * * * * * * * * * * * * * + +The movements of the grown-ups, whom Georgie tolerated, but did not +pretend to understand, removed his world, when he was seven years +old, to a place called "Oxford-on-a-visit. "Here were huge buildings +surrounded by vast prairies, with streets of infinite length, and, +above all, something called the "buttery," which Georgie was dying +to see, because he knew it must be greasy, and therefore delightful. +He perceived how correct were his judgments when his nurse led him +through a stone arch into the presence of an enormously fat man, +who asked him if he would like some, bread and cheese. Georgie was +used to eat all round the clock, so he took what "buttery " gave him, +and would have taken some brown liquid called "auditale" but that +his nurse led him away to an afternoon performance of a thing called +"Pepper's Ghost." This was intensely thrilling. People's heads +came off and flew all over the stage, and skeletons danced bone by +bone, while Mr. Pepper himself, beyond question a man of the worst, +waved his arms and flapped a long gown, and in a deep bass voice +(Georgie had never heard a man sing before) told of his sorrows +unspeakable. Some grown-up or other tried to explain that the +illusion was made with mirrors, and that there was no need to be +frightened. Georgie did not know what illusions were, but he did +know that a mirror was the looking-glass with the ivory handle on +his mother's dressing-table. Therefore the "grown-up" was "just +saying things" after the distressing custom of "grown-ups," and +Georgie cast about for amusement between scenes. Next to him sat +a little girl dressed all in black, her hair combed off her forehead +exactly like the girl in the book called "Alice in Wonderland, +"which had been given him on his last birthday. The little girl +looked at Georgie, and Georgie looked at her. There seemed to be +no need of any further introduction. + +"I've got a cut on my thumb," said he. It was the first work of +his first real knife, a savage triangular hack, and he esteemed it +a most valuable possession. + +"I'm tho thorry!" she lisped. "Let me look pleathe." + +"There's a di-ack-lum plaster on, but it's all raw under," Georgie +answered, complying. + +"Dothent it hurt?" - her grey eyes were full of pity and interest. + +"Awf'ly. Perhaps it will give me lockjaw." + +"It lookth very horrid. I'm tho thorry!" She put a forefinger to +his hand, and held her head sidewise for a better view. + +Here the nurse turned, and shook him severely. "You mustn't talk +to strange little girls, Master Georgie." + +"She isn't strange. She's very nice. I like her, an' I've showed +her my new cut." + +"The idea! You change places with me." + +She moved him over, and shut out the little girl from his view, +while the grown-up behind renewed the futile explanations. + +"I am not afraid, truly," said the boy, wriggling in despair; "but +why don't you go to sleep in the afternoons, same as Provost of +Oriel?" + +Georgie had been introduced to a grown-up of that name, who slept +in his presence without apology. Georgie understood that he was +the most important grown-up in Oxford; hence he strove to gild his +rebuke with flatteries. This grown-up did not seem to like it, but +he collapsed, and Georgie lay back in his seat, silent and enraptured. +Mr. Pepper was singing again, and the deep, ringing voice, the red +fire, and the misty, waving gown all seemed to be mixed up with the +little girl who had been so kind about his cut. When the performance +was ended she nodded to Georgie, and Georgie nodded in return. He +spoke no more than was necessary till bedtime, but meditated on new +colors and sounds and lights and music and things as far as he +understood them; the deep-mouthed agony of Mr. Pepper mingling with +the little girl's lisp. That night he made a new tale, from which +he shamelessly removed the Rapunzel-Rapunzel-let-down-your-hair +princess, gold crown, Grimm edition, and all, and put a new +Annieanlouise in her place. So it was perfectly right and natural +that when he came to the brushwood-pile he should find her waiting +for him, her hair combed off her forehead more like Alice in +Wonderland than ever, and the races and adventures began. + +Ten years at an English public school do not encourage dreaming. +Georgie won his growth and chest measurement, and a few other +things which did not appear in the bills, under a system of cricket, +foot-ball, and paper-chases, from four to five days a week, which +provided for three lawful cuts of a ground-ash if any boy absented +himself from these entertainments. He became a rumple-collared, +dusty-hatted fag of the Lower Third, and a light half-back at +Little Side foot-ball; was pushed and prodded through the slack +backwaters of the Lower Fourth, where the raffle of a school +generally accumulates; won his "second-fifteen" cap at foot-ball, +enjoyed the dignity of a study with two companions in it, and +began to look forward to office as a sub-prefect. At last he +blossomed into full glory as head of the school, ex-officio captain +of the games; head of his house, where he and his lieutenants +preserved discipline and decency among seventy boys from twelve to +seventeen; general arbiter in the quarrels that spring up among +the touchy Sixth - and intimate friend and ally of the Head himself. +When he stepped forth in the black jersey, white knickers, and +black stockings of the First Fifteen, the new match-ball under his +arm, and his old and frayed cap at the back of his head, the small +fry of the lower forms stood apart and worshipped, and the "new caps" +of the team talked to him ostentatiously, that the world might see. +And so, in summer, when he came back to the pavilion after a slow +but eminently safe game, it mattered not whether he had made nothing +or, as once happened, a hundred and three, the school shouted just +the same, and women-folk who had come to look at the match looked +at Cottar - Cottar, major; "that's Cottar!" Above all, he was +responsible for that thing called the tone of the school, and few +realise with what passionate devotion a certain type of boy throws +himself into this work. Home was a faraway country, full of ponies +and fishing and shooting, and men-visitors who interfered with +one's plans; but school was the real world, where things of vital +importance happened, and crises arose that must be dealt with +promptly and quietly. Not for nothing was it written, "Let the +Consuls look to it that the Republic takes no harm," and Georgie +was glad to be back in authority when the holidays ended. Behind +him, but not too near, was the wise and temperate Head, now +suggesting the wisdom of the serpent, now counselling the mildness +of the dove; leading him on to see, more by half-hints than by any +direct word, how boys and men are all of a piece, and how he who +can handle the one will assuredly in time control the other. + +For the rest, the school was not encouraged to dwell on its emotions, +but rather to keep in hard condition, to avoid false quantities, +and to enter the army direct, without the help of the expensive +London crammer, under whose roof young blood learns too much. +Cottar, major, went the way of hundreds before him. The Head gave +him six months' final polish, taught him what kind of answers best +please a certain kind of examiners, and handed him over to the +properly constituted authorities, who passed him into Sandhurst. +Here he had sense enough to see that he was in the Lower Third once +more, and behaved with respect toward his seniors, till they in turn +respected him, and he was promoted to the rank of corporal, and sat +in authority over mixed peoples with all the vices of men and boys +combined. His reward was another string of athletic cups, a +good-conduct sword, and, at last, Her Majesty's commission as a +subaltern in a first-class line regiment. He did not know that +he bore with him from school and college a character worth much +fine gold, but was pleased to find his mess so kindly. He had +plenty of money of his own; his training had set the public school +mask upon his face, and had taught him how many were the "things no +fellow can do." By virtue of the same training he kept his pores +open and his mouth shut. + +The regular working of the Empire shifted his world to India, where +he tasted utter loneliness in subaltern's quarters, - one room and +one bullock-trunk, - and, with his mess, learned the new life from +the beginning. But there were horses in the land-ponies at +reasonable price; there was polo for such as could afford it; there +were the disreputable remnants of a pack of hounds; and Cottar +worried his way along without too much despair. It dawned on him +that a regiment in India was nearer the chance of active service +than he had conceived, and that a man might as well study his +profession. A major of the new school backed this idea with +enthusiasm, and he and Cottar accumulated a library of military +works, and read and argued and disputed far into the nights. But +the adjutant said the old thing: "Get to know your men, young un, +and they 'll follow you anywhere. That's all you want - know your +men." Cottar thought he knew them fairly well at cricket and the +regimental sports, but he never realised the true inwardness of +them till he was sent off with a detachment of twenty to sit down +in a mud fort near a rushing river which was spanned by a bridge +of boats. When the floods came they went forth and hunted strayed +pontoons along the banks. Otherwise there was nothing to do, and +the men got drunk, gambled, and quarrelled. They were a sickly +crew, for a junior subaltern is by custom saddled with the worst +men. Cottar endured their rioting as long as he could, and then +sent down-country for a dozen pairs of boxing-gloves. + +"I wouldn't blame you for fightin'," said he, "if you only knew how +to use your hands; but you don't. Take these things, and I'll show +you." The men appreciated his efforts. Now, instead of blaspheming +and swearing at a comrade, and threatening to shoot him, they could +take him apart, and soothe themselves to exhaustion. As one +explained whom Cottar found with a shut eye and a diamond-shaped +mouth spitting blood through an embrasure: "We tried it with the +gloves, sir, for twenty minutes, and that done us no good, sir. +Then we took off the gloves and tried it that way for another twenty +minutes, same as you showed us, sir, an' that done us a world o' +good. 'T wasn't fightin', sir; there was a bet on." + +Cottar dared not laugh, but he invited his men to other sports, such +as racing across country in shirt and trousers after a trail of +torn paper, and to single-stick in the evenings, till the native +population, who had a lust for sport in every form, wished to know +whether the white men understood wrestling. They sent in an +ambassador, who took the soldiers by the neck and threw them about +the dust; and the entire command were all for this new game. They +spent money on learning new falls and holds, which was better than +buying other doubtful commodities; and the peasantry grinned five +deep round the tournaments. + +That detachment, who had gone up in bullock-carts, returned to +headquarters at an average rate of thirty miles a day, fair +heel-and-toe; no sick, no prisoners, and no court martials pending. +They scattered themselves among their friends, singing the praises +of their lieutenant and looking for causes of offense. + +"How did you do it, young un?" the adjutant asked. + +"Oh, I sweated the beef off 'em, and then I sweated some muscle on +to 'em. It was rather a lark." + +"If that's your way of lookin' at it, we can give you all the larks +you want. Young Davies isn't feelin' quite fit, and he's next for +detachment duty. Care to go for him?" + +"'Sure he wouldn't mind? I don't want to shove myself forward, you +know." + +"You needn't bother on Davies's account. We'll give you the +sweepin's of the corps, and you can see what you can make of 'em." + +"All right," said Cottar. "It's better fun than loafin' about +cantonments." + +"Rummy thing," said the adjutant, after Cottar had returned to his +wilderness with twenty other devils worse than the first. "If +Cottar only knew it, half the women in the station would give their +eyes - confound 'em! - to have the young un in tow." + +"That accounts for Mrs. Elery sayin' I was workin' my nice new boy +too hard," said a wing commander. + +"Oh, yes; and 'Why doesn't he come to the bandstand in the evenings?' +and 'Can't I get him to make up a four at tennis with the Hammon +girls?'" the adjutant snorted. "Look at young Davies makin' an ass +of himself over mutton-dressed-as-lamb old enough to be his mother!" + +"No one can accuse young Cottar of runnin' after women, white or +black," the major replied thoughtfully. "But, then, that's the kind +that generally goes the worst mucker in the end." + +"Not Cottar. I've only run across one of his muster before - a +fellow called Ingles, in South Africa. He was just the same +hard trained, athletic-sports build of animal. Always kept himself +in the pink of condition. Didn't do him much good, though. 'Shot +at Wesselstroom the week before Majuba. Wonder how the young un +will lick his detachment into shape." + +Cottar turned up six weeks later, on foot, with his pupils. He never +told his experiences, but the men spoke enthusiastically, and +fragments of it leaked back to the colonel through sergeants, batmen, +and the like. + +There was great jealousy between the first and second detachments, +but the men united in adoring Cottar, and their way of showing it +was by sparing him all the trouble that men know how to make for an +unloved officer. He sought popularity as little as he had sought +it at school, and therefore it came to him. He favoured no one - +not even when the company sloven pulled the company cricket-match +out of the fire with an unexpected forty-three at the last moment. +There was very little getting round him, for he seemed to know by +instinct exactly when and where to head off a malingerer; but he +did not forget that the difference between a dazed and sulky junior +of the upper school and a bewildered, browbeaten lump of a private +fresh from the depot was very small indeed. The sergeants, seeing +these things, told him secrets generally hid from young officers. +His words were quoted as barrack authority on bets in canteen and +at tea; and the veriest shrew of the corps, bursting with charges +against other women who had used the cooking-ranges out of turn, +forbore to speak when Cottar, as the regulations ordained, asked of +a morning if there were "any complaints." + +"I'm full o' complaints," said Mrs. Corporal Morrison, "an' I'd kill +O'Halloran's fat sow of a wife any day, but ye know how it is. 'E +puts 'is head just inside the door, an' looks down 'is blessed nose +so bashful, an' 'e whispers, 'Any complaints' Ye can't complain after +that. I want to kiss him. Some day I think I will. Heigh-ho! she'll +be a lucky woman that gets Young Innocence. See 'im now, girls. Do +ye blame me?" + +Cottar was cantering across to polo, and he looked a very +satisfactory figure of a man as he gave easily to the first excited +bucks of his pony, and slipped over a low mud wall to the +practice-ground. There were more than Mrs. Corporal Morrison who +felt as she did. But Cottar was busy for eleven hours of the day. +He did not care to have his tennis spoiled by petticoats in the +court; and after one long afternoon at a garden-party, he explained +to his major that this sort of thing was " futile priffle," and the +major laughed. Theirs was not a married mess, except for the +colonel's wife, and Cottar stood in awe of the good lady. She said +"my regiment," and the world knows what that means. None the less + when they wanted her to give away the prizes after a shooting-match, +and she refused because one of the prize-winners was married to a +girl who had made a jest of her behind her broad back, the mess +ordered Cottar to "tackle her," in his best calling-kit. This he +did, simply and laboriously, and she gave way altogether. + +"She only wanted to know the facts of the case," he explained. "I +just told her, and she saw at once." + +"Ye-es," said the adjutant. "I expect that's what she did. Comin' +to the Fusiliers' dance to-night, Galahad?" + +"No, thanks. I've got a fight on with the major." The virtuous +apprentice sat up till midnight in the major's quarters, with a +stop-watch and a pair of compasses, shifting little painted +lead-blocks about a four-inch map. + +Then he turned in and slept the sleep of innocence, which is full +of healthy dreams. One peculiarity of his dreams he noticed at the +beginning of his second hot weather. Two or three times a month +they duplicated or ran in series. He would find himself sliding +into dreamland by the same road - a road that ran along a beach +near a pile of brushwood. To the right lay the sea, sometimes at +full tide, sometimes withdrawn to the very horizon; but he knew it +for the same sea. By that road he would travel over a swell of +rising ground covered with short, withered grass, into valleys of +wonder and unreason. Beyond the ridge, which was crowned with some +sort of street-lamp, anything was possible; but up to the lamp it +seemed to him that he knew the road as well as he knew the +parade-ground. He learned to look forward to the place; for, once +there, he was sure of a good night's rest, and Indian hot weather +can be rather trying. First, shadowy under closing eyelids, would +come the outline of the brushwood-pile; next the white sand of the +beach-road, almost overhanging the black, changeful sea; then the +turn inland and uphill to the single light. When he was unrestful +for any reason, he would tell himself how he was sure to get there + - sure to get there - if he shut his eyes and surrendered to the +drift of things. But one night after a foolishly hard hour's polo +(the thermometer was 94° in his quarters at ten o'clock), sleep +stood away from him altogether, though he did his best to find the +well-known road, the point where true sleep began. At last he saw +the brushwood-pile, and hurried along to the ridge, for behind him +he felt was the wide-awake, sultry world. He reached the lamp in +safety, tingling with drowsiness, when a policeman - a common +country policeman - sprang up before him and touched him on the +shoulder ere he could dive into the dim valley below. He was +filled with terror, - the hopeless terror of dreams, - for the +policeman said, in the awful, distinct voice of dream-people, "I am +Policeman Day coming back from the City of Sleep. You come with +me." Georgie knew it was true - that just beyond him in the valley +lay the lights of the City of Sleep, where he would have been +sheltered, and that this Policeman-Thing had full power and +authority to head him back to miserable wakefulness. He found +himself looking at the moonlight on the wall, dripping with fright; +and he never overcame that horror, though he met the Policeman +several times that hot weather, and his coming was the forerunner +of a bad night. + +But other dreams-perfectly absurd ones-filled him with an +incommunicable delight. All those that he remembered began by the +brushwood-pile. For instance, he found a small clockwork steamer +(he had noticed it many nights before) lying by the sea-road, and +stepped into it, whereupon it moved with surpassing swiftness over +an absolutely level sea. This was glorious, for he felt he was +exploring great matters; and it stopped by a lily carved in stone, +which, most naturally, floated on the water. Seeing the lily was +labelled "Hong-Kong," Georgie said: "Of course. This is precisely +what I expected Hong-Kong would be like. How magnificent!" +Thousands of miles farther on it halted at yet another stone lily, +labelled "Java."; and this, again, delighted him hugely, because he +knew that now he was at the world's end. But the little boat ran +on and on till it lay in a deep fresh-water lock, the sides of +which were carven marble, green with moss. Lilypads lay on the +water, and reeds arched above. Some one moved among the reeds - +some one whom Georgie knew he had travelled to this world's end to +reach. Therefore everything was entirely well with him. He was +unspeakably happy, and vaulted over the ship's side to find this +person. When his feet touched that still water, it changed, with +the rustle of unrolling maps, to nothing less than a sixth quarter +of the globe, beyond the most remote imagining of man - a place +where islands were coloured yellow and blue, their lettering strung +across their faces. They gave on unknown seas, and Georgie's urgent +desire was to return swiftly across this floating atlas to known +bearings. He told himself repeatedly that it was no good to hurry; +but still he hurried desperately, and the islands slipped and slid +under his feet; the straits yawned and widened, till he found +himself utterly lost in the world's fourth dimension, with no hope +of return. Yet only a little distance away he could see the old +world with the rivers and mountain-chains marked according to the +Sandhurst rules of mapmaking. Then that person for whom he had +come to the Lily Lock (that was its name) ran up across unexplored +territories, and showed him away. They fled hand in hand till they +reached a road that spanned ravines, and ran along the edge of +precipices, and was tunnelled through mountains. "This goes to our +brushwood-pile," said his companion; and all his trouble was at an +end. He took a pony, because he understood that this was the +Thirty-Mile Ride and he must ride swiftly, and raced through the +clattering tunnels and round the curves, always downhill, till he +heard the sea to his left, and saw it raging under a full moon, +against sandy cliffs. It was heavy going, but he recognised the +nature of the country, the dark-purple downs inland, and the bents +that whistled in the wind. The road was eaten away in places, and +the sea lashed at him-black, foamless tongues of smooth and glossy +rollers; but he was sure that there was less danger from the sea +than from "Them," whoever "They" were, inland to his right. He knew, +too, that he would be safe if he could reach the down with the lamp +on it. This came as he expected: he saw the one light a mile ahead +along the beach, dismounted, turned to the right, walked quietly +over to the brushwood-pile, found the little steamer had returned +to the beach whence he had unmoored it, and - must have fallen +asleep, for he could remember no more. "I'm gettin' the hang of +the geography of that place," he said to himself, as he shaved next +morning. "I must have made some sort of circle. Let's see. The +Thirty-Mile Ride (now how the deuce did I know it was called the +Thirty-Mile, Ride?) joins the sea-road beyond the first down where +the lamp is. And that atlas-country lies at the back of the +Thirty-Mile Ride, somewhere out to the right beyond the hills and +tunnels. Rummy things, dreams. 'Wonder what makes mine fit into +each other so?" + +He continued on his solid way through the recurring duties of the +seasons. The regiment was shifted to another station, and he +enjoyed road-marching for two months, with a good deal of mixed +shooting thrown in, and when they reached their new cantonments +he became a member of the local Tent Club, and chased the mighty +boar on horseback with a short stabbing-spear. There he met the +mahseer of the Poonch, beside whom the tarpon is as a herring, and +he who lands him can say that he is a fisherman. This was as new +and as fascinating as the big-game shooting that fell to his portion, +when he had himself photographed for the mother's benefit, sitting +on the flank of his first tiger. + +Then the adjutant was promoted, and Cottar rejoiced with him, for +he admired the adjutant greatly, and marvelled who might be big +enough to fill his place; so that he nearly collapsed when the +mantle fell on his own shoulders, and the colonel said a few sweet +things that made him blush. An adjutant's position does not differ +materially from that of head of the school, and Cottar stood in the +same relation to the colonel as he had to his old Head in England. +Only, tempers wear out in hot weather, and things were said and done +that tried him sorely, and he made glorious blunders, from which the +regimental sergeant-major pulled him with a loyal soul and a shut +mouth. Slovens and incompetents raged against him; the weak-minded +strove to lure him from the ways of justice; the small-minded - yea, +men whom Cottar believed would never do "things no fellow can do" + - imputed motives mean and circuitous to actions that he had not +spent a thought upon; and he tasted injustice, and it made him very +sick. But his consolation came on parade, when he looked down the +full companies, and reflected how few were in hospital or cells, +and wondered when the time would come to try the machine of his +love and labour. + +But they needed and expected the whole of a man's working-day, and +maybe three or four hours of the night. Curiously enough, he never +dreamed about the regiment as he was popularly supposed to. The +mind, set free from the day's doings, generally ceased working +altogether, or, if it moved at all, carried him along the old +beach-road to the downs, the lamp-post, and, once in a while, to +terrible Policeman Day. The second time that he returned to the +world's lost continent (this was a dream that repeated itself again +and again, with variations, on the same ground) he knew that if he +only sat still the person from the Lily Lock would help him, and he +was not disappointed. Sometimes he was trapped in mines of vast +depth hollowed out of the heart of the world, where men in torment +chanted echoing songs; and he heard this person coming along through +the galleries, and everything was made safe and delightful. They +met again in low-roofed Indian railway-carriages that halted in a +garden surrounded by gilt-and-green railings, where a mob of stony +white people, all unfriendly, sat at breakfast-tables covered with +roses, and separated Georgie from his companion, while underground +voices sang deep-voiced songs. Georgie was filled with enormous +despair till they two met again. They foregathered in the middle +of an endless, hot tropic night, and crept into a huge house that +stood, he knew, somewhere north of the railway-station where the +people ate among the roses. It was surrounded with gardens, all +moist and dripping; and in one room, reached through leagues of +whitewashed passages, a Sick Thing lay in bed. Now the least noise, +Georgie knew, would unchain some waiting horror, and his companion +knew it, too; but when their eyes met across the bed, Georgie was +disgusted to see that she was a child - a little girl in strapped +shoes, with her black hair combed back from her forehead. + +"What disgraceful folly!" he thought. "Now she could do nothing +whatever if Its head came off." + +Then the Thing coughed, and the ceiling shattered down in plaster +on the mosquito-netting, and "They" rushed in from all quarters. +He dragged the child through the stifling garden, voices chanting +behind them, and they rode the Thirty-Mile Ride under whip and spur +along the sandy beach by the booming sea, till they came to the +downs, the lamp-post, and the brushwood-pile, which was safety. +Very often dreams would break up about them in this fashion, and +they would be separated, to endure awful adventures alone. But the +most amusing times were when he and she had a clear understanding +that it was all make-believe, and walked through mile-wide roaring +rivers without even taking off their shoes, or set light to populous +cities to see how they would burn, and were rude as any children to +the vague shadows met in their rambles. Later in the night they +were sure to suffer for this, either at the hands of the Railway +People eating among the roses, or in the tropic uplands at the far +end of the Thirty-Mile Ride. Together, this did no much affright +them; but often Georgie would hear her shrill cry of "Boy! Boy!" +half a world away, and hurry to her rescue before "They" maltreated +her. + +He and she explored the dark-purple downs as far inland from the +brushwood-pile as they dared, but that was always a dangerous matter. +The interior was filled with "Them," and "They" went about singing +in the hollows, and Georgie and she felt safer on or near the +seaboard. So thoroughly had he come to know the place of his dreams +that even waking he accepted it as a real country, and made a rough +sketch of it. He kept his own counsel, of course; but the +permanence of the land puzzled him. His ordinary dreams were as +formless and as fleeting as any healthy dreams could be, but once at +the brushwood-pile he moved within known limits and could see where +he was going. There were months at a time when nothing notable +crossed his sleep. Then the dreams would come in a batch of five or +six, and next morning the map that he kept in his writing case would +be written up to date, for Georgie was a most methodical person. +There was, indeed, a danger - his seniors said so - of his developing +into a regular "Auntie Fuss" of an adjutant, and when an officer +once takes to old-maidism there is more hope for the virgin of +seventy than for him. + +But fate sent the change that was needed, in the shape of a little +winter campaign on the Border, which, after the manner of little +campaigns, flashed out into a very ugly war; and Cottar's regiment +was chosen among the first. + +"Now," said a major, "this'll shake the cobwebs out of us all - +especially you, Galahad; and we can see what your hen-with-one-chick +attitude has done for the regiment." + +Cottar nearly wept with joy as the campaign went forward. They +were fit - physically fit beyond the other troops; they were good +children in camp, wet or dry, fed or unfed; and they followed their +officers with the quick suppleness and trained obedience of a +first-class foot-ball fifteen. They were cut off from their apology +for a base, and cheerfully cut their way back to it again; they +crowned and cleaned out hills full of the enemy with the precision +of well-broken dogs of chase; and in the hour of retreat, when, +hampered with the sick and wounded of the column, they were +persecuted down eleven miles of waterless valley, they, serving as +rearguard, covered themselves with a great glory in the eyes of +fellow-professionals. Any regiment can advance, but few know how +to retreat with a sting in the tail. Then they turned to made +roads, most often under fire, and dismantled some inconvenient mud +redoubts. They were the last corps to be withdrawn when the +rubbish of the campaign was all swept up; and after a month in +standing camp, which tries morals severely, they departed to their +own place in column of fours, singing: + + "'E's goin' to do without 'em - + Don't want 'em any more; + 'E's goin' to do without 'em, + As 'e's often done before. + 'E's goin' to be a martyr + On a 'ighly novel plan, + An' all the boys and girls will say, + 'Ow! what a nice young man-man-man! + Ow! what a nice young man!'" + +There came out a "Gazette" in which Cottar found that he had been +behaving with "courage and coolness and discretion" in all his +capacities; that he had assisted the wounded under fire, and blown +in a gate, also under fire. Net result, his captaincy and a +brevet majority, coupled with the Distinguished Service Order. + +As to his wounded, he explained that they were both heavy men, whom +he could lift more easily than any one else. "Otherwise, of course, +I should have sent out one of my men; and, of course, about that +gate business, we were safe the minute we were well under the walls." +But this did not prevent his men from cheering him furiously whenever +they saw him, or the mess from giving him a dinner on the eve of his +departure to England. (A year's leave was among the things he had +"snaffled out of the campaign," I to use his own words.) The doctor, +who had taken quite as much as was good for him, quoted poetry about +"a good blade carving the casques of men," and so on, and everybody +told Cottar that he was an excellent person; but when he rose to +make his maiden speech they shouted so that he was understood to say, +"It isn't any use tryin' to speak with you chaps rottin' me like +this. Let's have some pool." + + * * * * * * * * * * * * * + +It is not unpleasant to spend eight-and-twenty days in an easy-going +steamer on warm waters, in the company of a woman who lets you see +that you are head and shoulders superior to the rest of the world, +even though that woman may be, and most often is, ten counted years +your senior. P.O. boats are not lighted with the disgustful +particularity of Atlantic liners. There is more phosphorescence at +the bows, and greater silence and darkness by the hand-steering +gear aft. + +Awful things might have happened to Georgie but for the little fact +that he had never studied the first principles of the game he was +expected to play. So when Mrs. Zuleika, at Aden, told him how +motherly an interest she felt in his welfare, medals, brevet, and +all, Georgie took her at the foot of the letter, and promptly talked +of his own mother, three hundred miles nearer each day, of his home, +and so forth, all the way up the Red Sea. It was much easier than +he had supposed to converse with a woman for an hour at a time. +Then Mrs. Zuleika, turning from parental affection, spoke of love +in the abstract as a thing not unworthy of study, and in discreet +twilights after dinner demanded confidences. Georgie would have +been delighted to supply them, but he had none, and did not know it +was his duty to manufacture them. Mrs. Zuleika expressed surprise +and unbelief, and asked - those questions which deep asks of deep. +She learned all that was necessary to conviction, and, being very +much a woman, resumed (Georgie never knew that she had abandoned) +the motherly attitude. + +"Do you know," she said, somewhere in the Mediterranean, "I think +you're the very dearest boy I have ever met in my life, and I'd like +you to remember me a little. You will when you are older, but I +want you to remember me now. You'll make some girl very happy." + +"Oh! Hope so," said Georgie, gravely; "but there's heaps of time +for marryin' an' all that sort of thing, ain't there?" + +"That depends. Here are your bean-bags for the Ladies' Competition. +I think I'm growing too old to care for these tamashas." + +They were getting up sports, and Georgie was on the committee. He +never noticed how perfectly the bags were sewn, but another woman +did, and smiled - once. He liked Mrs. Zuleika greatly. She was a +bit old, of course, but uncommonly nice. There was no nonsense +about her. + +A few nights after they passed Gibraltar his dream returned to him. +She who waited by the brushwood-pile was no longer a little girl, +but a woman with black hair that grew into a "widow's peak," combed +back from her forehead. He knew her for the child in black, the +companion of the last six years, and, as it had been in the time of +the meetings on the Lost Continent, he was filled with delight +unspeakable. "They," for some dreamland reason, were friendly or +had gone away that night, and the two flitted together over all +their country, from the brushwood-pile up the Thirty-Mile Ride, +till they saw the House of the Sick Thing, a pin-point in the +distance to the left; stamped through the Railway Waiting-room +where the roses lay on the spread breakfast-tables; and returned, +by the ford and the city they had once burned for sport, to the +great swells of the downs under the lamp-post. Wherever they moved +a strong singing followed them underground, but this night there +was no panic. All the land was empty except for themselves, and at +the last (they were sitting by the lamp-post hand in hand) she +turned and kissed him. He woke with a start, staring at the waving +curtain of the cabin door; he could almost have sworn that the kiss +was real. + +Next morning the ship was rolling in a Biscay sea, and people were +not happy; but as Georgie came to breakfast, shaven, tubbed, and +smelling of soap, several turned to look at him because of the light +in his eyes and the splendour of his countenance. + +"Well, you look beastly fit," snapped a neighbour. "Any one left +you a legacy in the middle of the Bay?" + +Georgie reached for the curry, with a seraphic grin. "I suppose +it's the gettin' so near home, and all that. I do feel rather +festive this mornin. 'Rolls a bit, doesn't she?" + +Mrs. Zuleika stayed in her cabin till the end of the voyage, when +she left without bidding him farewell, and wept passionately on the +dock-head for pure joy of meeting her children, who, she had often +said, were so like their father. + +Georgie headed for his own country, wild with delight of his first +long furlough after the lean seasons. Nothing was changed in that +orderly life, from the coachman who met him at the station to the +white peacock that stormed at the carriage from the stone wall above +the shaven lawns. The house took toll of him with due regard to +precedence - first the mother; then the father; then the housekeeper, +who wept and praised God; then the butler, and so on down to the +under-keeper, who had been dogboy in Georgie's youth, and called +him "Master Georgie," and was reproved by the groom who had taught +Georgie to ride. + +"Not a thing changed," he sighed contentedly, when the three of them +sat down to dinner in the late sunlight, while the rabbits crept out +upon the lawn below the cedars, and the big trout in the ponds by +the home paddock rose for their evening meal. + +"Our changes are all over, dear," cooed the mother; "and now I am +getting used to your size and your tan (you're very brown, Georgie), +I see you haven't changed in the least. You're exactly like the +pater." + +The father beamed on this man after his own heart, - "youngest major +in the army, and should have had the V.C., sir," - and the butler +listened with his professional mask off when Master Georgie spoke +of war as it is waged to-day, and his father cross-questioned. + +They went out on the terrace to smoke among the roses, and the shadow +of the old house lay long across the wonderful English foliage, +which is the only living green in the world. + +"Perfect! By Jove, it's perfect!" Georgie was looking at the +round-bosomed woods beyond the home paddock, where the white pheasant +boxes were ranged; and the golden air was full of a hundred sacred +scents and sounds. Georgie felt his father's arm tighten in his. + +"It's not half bad - but hodie mihi, cras tibi, isn't it? I suppose +you'll be turning up some fine day with a girl under your arm, if +you haven't one now, eh?" + +"You can make your mind easy, sir. I haven't one." + +" Not in all these years?" said the mother. + +"I hadn't time, mummy. They keep a man pretty busy, these days, in +the service, and most of our mess are unmarried, too." + +"But you must have met hundreds in society - at balls, and so on?" + +"I'm like the Tenth, mummy: I don't dance." + +"Don't dance! What have you been doing with yourself, then - backing +other men's bills?" said the father. + +"Oh, yes; I've done a little of that too; but you see, as things are +now, a man has all his work cut out for him to keep abreast of his +profession, and my days were always too full to let me lark about +half the night." + +"Hmm!" - suspiciously. + +"It's never too late to learn. We ought to give some kind of +housewarming for the people about, now you've come back. Unless you +want to go straight up to town, dear?" + +"No. I don't want anything better than this. Let's sit still and +enjoy ourselves. I suppose there will be something for me to ride +if I look for it?" + +"Seeing I've been kept down to the old brown pair for the last six +weeks because all the others were being got ready for Master Georgie, +I should say there might be," the father chuckled. "They're +reminding me in a hundred ways that I must take the second place now." + +"Brutes!" + +"The pater doesn't mean it, dear; but every one has been trying to +make your home-coming a success; and you do like it, don't you?" + +"Perfect! Perfect! There's no place like England - when you 've +done your work." + +"That's the proper way to look at it, my son." + +And so up and down the flagged walk till their shadows grew long in +the moonlight, and the mother went indoors and played such songs as +a small boy once clamoured for, and the squat silver candlesticks +were brought in, and Georgie climbed to the two rooms in the west +wing that had been his nursery and his playroom in the beginning. +Then who should come to tuck him up for the night but the mother? +And she sat down on the bed, and they talked for a long hour, as +mother and son should, if there is to be any future for the Empire. +With a simple woman's deep guile she asked questions and suggested +answers that should have waked some sign in the face on the pillow, +and there was neither quiver of eyelid nor quickening of breath, +neither evasion nor delay in reply. So she blessed him and kissed +him on the mouth, which is not always a mother's property, and said +something to her husband later, at which he laughed profane and +incredulous laughs. + +All the establishment waited on Georgie next morning, from the +tallest six-year-old, "with a mouth like a kid glove, Master Georgie," +to the under-keeper strolling carelessly along the horizon, Georgie's +pet rod in his hand, and "There's a four-pounder risin' below the +lasher. You don't 'ave 'em in Injia, Mast-Major Georgie." It was +all beautiful beyond telling, even though the mother insisted on +taking him out in the landau (the leather had the hot Sunday smell +of his youth) and showing him off to her friends at all the houses +for six miles round; and the pater bore him up to town and a lunch +at the club, where he introduced him, quite carelessly, to not less +than thirty ancient warriors whose sons were not the youngest majors +in the army and had not the D.S.O. After that it was Georgie's turn; +and remembering his friends, he filled up the house with that kind +of officer who live in cheap lodgings at Southsea or Montpelier +Square, Brompton - good men all, but not well off. The mother +perceived that they needed girls to play with; and as there was no +scarcity of girls, the house hummed like a dovecote in spring. They +tore up the place for amateur theatricals; they disappeared in the +gardens when they ought to have been rehearsing; they swept off +every available horse and vehicle, especially the governess-cart and +the fat pony; they fell into the trout-ponds; they picnicked and +they tennised; and they sat on gates in the twilight, two by two, +and Georgie found that he was not in the least necessary to their +entertainment. + +"My word!" said he, when he saw the last of their dear backs. "They +told me they've enjoyed 'emselves, but they haven't done half the +things they said they would." + +"I know they've enjoyed themselves - immensely," said the mother. +"You're a public benefactor, dear." + +"Now we can be quiet again, can't we?" + +"Oh, quite. I've a very dear friend of mine that I want you to know. +She couldn't come with the house so full, because she's an invalid, +and she was away when you first came. She's a Mrs. Lacy." + +"Lacy! I don't remember the name about here." + +"No; they came after you went to India - from Oxford. Her husband +died there, and she lost some money, I believe. They bought The +Firs on the Bassett Road. She's a very sweet woman, and we're very +fond of them both." + +"She's a widow, didn't you say?" + +"She has a daughter. Surely I said so, dear?" + +"Does she fall into trout-ponds, and gas and giggle, and 'Oh, Major +Cottah!' and all that sort of thing?" + +"No, indeed. She's a very quiet girl, and very musical. She always +came over here with her music-books - composing, you know; and she +generally works all day, so you won't - " + +"'Talking about Miriam?" said the pater, coming up. The mother edged +toward him within elbow-reach. There was no finesse about Georgie's +father. "Oh, Miriam's a dear girl. Plays beautifully. Rides +beautifully, too. She's a regular pet of the household. Used to +call me - " The elbow went home, and ignorant but obedient always, +the pater shut himself off. + +"What used she to call you, sir?" + +"All sorts of pet names. I'm very fond of Miriam." + +"Sounds Jewish - Miriam." + +"Jew! You'll be calling yourself a Jew next. She's one of the +Herefordshire Lacys. When her aunt dies - " Again the elbow. + +"Oh, you won't see anything of her, Georgie. She's busy with her +music or her mother all day. Besides, you're going up to town +tomorrow, aren't you? I thought you said something about an +Institute meeting?" The mother spoke. + +"Go up to town now! What nonsense!" Once more the pater was shut +off. + +"I had some idea of it, but I'm not quite sure," said the son of +the house. Why did the mother try to get him away because a musical +girl and her invalid parent were expected? He did not approve of +unknown females calling his father pet names. He would observe these +pushing persons who had been only seven years in the county. + +All of which the delighted mother read in his countenance, herself +keeping an air of sweet disinterestedness. + +"They'll be here this evening for dinner. I'm sending the carriage +over for them, and they won't stay more than a week." + +"Perhaps I shall go up to town. I don't quite know yet." Georgie +moved away irresolutely. There was a lecture at the United Services +Institute on the supply of ammunition in the field, and the one man +whose theories most irritated Major Cottar would deliver it. A +heated discussion was sure to follow, and perhaps he might find +himself moved to speak. He took his rod that afternoon and went +down to thrash it out among the trout. + +"Good sport, dear!" said the mother, from the terrace. + +"Fraid it won't be, mummy. All those men from town, and the girls +particularly, have put every trout off his feed for weeks. There +isn't one of 'em that cares for fishin' - really. Fancy stampin' +and shoutin' on the bank, and tellin' every fish for half a mile +exactly what you're goin' to do, and then chuckin' a brute of a fly +at him! By Jove, it would scare me if I was a trout!" + +But things were not as bad as he had expected. The black gnat was +on the water, and the water was strictly preserved. A +three-quarter-pounder at the second cast set him for the campaign, +and he worked down-stream, crouching behind the reed and meadowsweet; +creeping between a hornbeam hedge and a foot-wide strip of bank, +where he could see the trout, but where they could not distinguish +him from the background; lying almost on his stomach to switch the +blue-upright sidewise through the checkered shadows of a gravelly +ripple under overarching trees. But he had known every inch of the +water since he was four feet high. The aged and astute between sunk +roots, with the large and fat that lay in the frothy scum below some +strong rush of water, sucking as lazily as carp, came to trouble in +their turn, at the hand that imitated so delicately the flicker and +wimple of an egg-dropping fly. Consequently, Georgie found himself +five miles from home when he ought to have been dressing for dinner. +The housekeeper had taken good care that her boy should not go empty, +and before he changed to the white moth he sat down to excellent +claret with sandwiches of potted egg and things that adoring women +make and men never notice. Then back, to surprise the otter grubbing +for fresh-water mussels, the rabbits on the edge of the beechwoods +foraging in the clover, and the policeman-like white owl stooping to +the little fieldmice, till the moon was strong, and he took his rod +apart, and went home through well-remembered gaps in the hedges. He +fetched a compass round the house, for, though he might have broken +every law of the establishment every hour, the law of his boyhood +was unbreakable: after fishing you went in by the south garden +back-door, cleaned up in the outer scullery, and did not present +yourself to your elders and your betters till you had washed and +changed. + +"Half-past ten, by Jove! Well, we'll make the sport an excuse. They +wouldn't want to see me the first evening, at any rate. Gone to bed, +probably." He skirted by the open French windows of the drawing-room. +"No, they haven't. They look very comfy in there." + +He could see his father in his own particular chair, the mother in +hers, and the back of a girl at the piano by the big potpourri-jar. +The gardens looked half divine in the moonlight, and he turned down +through the roses to finish his pipe. + +A prelude-ended, and there floated out a voice of the kind that in +his childhood he used to call "creamy" a full, true contralto; and +this is the song that he heard, every syllable of it: + + Over the edge of the purple down, + Where the single lamplight gleams, + Know ye the road to the Merciful Town + That is hard by the Sea of Dreams- + Where the poor may lay their wrongs away, + And the sick may forget to weep? + But we - pity us! Oh, pity us! + We wakeful; ah, pity us! - + We must go back with Policeman Day - + Back from the City of Sleep! + + Weary they turn from the scroll and crown, + Fetter and prayer and plough + They that go up to the Merciful Town, + For her gates are closing now. + It is their right in the Baths of Night + Body and soul to steep + But we - pity us! ah, pity us! + We wakeful; oh, pity us! - + We must go back with Policeman Day - + Back from the City of Sleep! + + Over the edge of the purple down, + Ere the tender dreams begin, + Look - we may look - at the Merciful Town, + But we may not enter in ! + Outcasts all, from her guarded wall + Back to our watch we creep: + We - pity us! ah, pity us! + We wakeful; oh, pity us! - + We that go back with Policeman Day - + Back from the City of Sleep + +At the last echo he was aware that his mouth was dry and unknown +pulses were beating in the roof of it. The housekeeper, who would +have it that he must have fallen in and caught a chill, was waiting +to catch him on the stairs, and, since he neither saw nor answered +her, carried a wild tale abroad that brought his mother knocking at +the door. + +"Anything happened, dear? Harper said she thought you weren't - " + +"No; it's nothing. I'm all right, mummy. Please don't bother." + +He did not recognise his own voice, but that was a small matter +beside what he was considering. Obviously, most obviously, the +whole coincidence was crazy lunacy. He proved it to the satisfaction +of Major George Cottar, who was going up to town to-morrow to hear a +lecture on the supply of ammunition in the field; and having so +proved it, the soul and brain and heart and body of Georgie cried +joyously: "That's the Lily Lock girl - the Lost Continent girl - +the Thirty-Mile Ride girl - the Brushwood girl! I know her!" + +He waked, stiff and cramped in his chair, to reconsider the situation +by sunlight, when it did not appear normal. But a man must eat, and +he went to breakfast, his heart between his teeth, holding himself +severely in hand. + +"Late, as usual," said the mother. "'My boy, Miss Lacy." + +A tall girl in black raised her eyes to his, and Georgie's life +training deserted him - just as soon as he realised that she did not +know. He stared coolly and critically. There was the abundant black +hair, growing in a widow's peak, turned back from the forehead, with +that peculiar ripple over the right ear; there were the grey eyes set +a little close together; the short upper lip, resolute chin, and the +known poise of the head. There was also the small well-cut mouth +that had kissed him. + +"Georgie - dear!" said the mother, amazedly, for Miriam was flushing +under the stare. + +"I - I beg your pardon!" he gulped. "I don't know whether the mother +has told you, but I'm rather an idiot at times, specially before I've +had my breakfast. It's - it's a family failing.' He turned to +explore among the hot-water dishes on the sideboard, rejoicing that +she did not know - she did not know. + +His conversation for the rest of the meal was mildly insane, though +the mother thought she had never seen her boy look half so handsome. +How could any girl, least of all one of Miriam's discernment, forbear +to fall down and worship? But deeply Miriam was displeased. She +had never been stared at in that fashion before, and promptly retired +into her shell when Georgie announced that he had changed his mind +about going to town, and would stay to play with Miss Lacy if she +had nothing better to do. + +"Oh, but don't let me throw you out. I'm at work. I've things to +do all the morning." + +"What possessed Georgie to behave so oddly?" the mother sighed to +herself. "Miriam's a bundle of feelings - like her mother." + +"You compose - don't you? Must be a fine thing to be able to do +that. [" Pig-oh, pig!" thought Miriam.] I think I heard you singin' +when I came in last night after fishin'. All about a Sea of Dreams, +wasn't it? [Miriam shuddered to the core of the soul that afflicted +her.] Awfully pretty song. How d' you think of such things?" + +"You only composed the music, dear, didn't you?" + +"The words too. I'm sure of it," said Georgie, with a sparkling eye. +No; she did not know. + +"Yeth; I wrote the words too." Miriam spoke slowly, for she knew +she lisped when she was nervous. + +"Now how could you tell, Georgie?" said the mother, as delighted as +though the youngest major in the army were ten years old, showing off +before company. + +"I was sure of it, somehow. Oh, there are heaps of things about me, +mummy, that you don't understand. Looks as if it were goin' to be +a hot day - for England. Would you care for a ride this afternoon, +Miss Lacy? We can start out after tea, if you'd like it." + +Miriam could not in decency refuse, but any woman might see she was +not filled with delight. + +"That will be very nice, if you take the Bassett Road. It will save +me sending Martin down to the village," said the mother, filling in +gaps. + +Like all good managers, the mother had her one weakness - a mania for +little strategies that should economise horses and vehicles. Her +men-folk complained that she turned them into common carriers, and +there was a legend in the family that she had once said to the pater +on the morning of a meet: "If you should kill near Bassett, dear, and +if it isn't too late, would you mind just popping over and matching +me this?" + +" I knew that was coming. You'd never miss a chance, mother. If +it's a fish or a trunk I won't." Georgie laughed. + +"It's only a duck. They can do it up very neatly at Mallett's," +said the mother, simply. "You won't mind, will you? We'll have a +scratch dinner at nine, because it's so hot." + +The long summer day dragged itself out for centuries; but at last +there was tea on the lawn, and Miriam appeared. + +She was in the saddle before he could offer to help, with the clean +spring of the child who mounted the pony for the Thirty-Mile Ride. +The day held mercilessly, though Georgie got down thrice to look for +imaginary stones in Rufus's foot. One cannot say even simple things +in broad light, and this that Georgie meditated was not simple. So +he spoke seldom, and Miriam was divided between relief and scorn. +It annoyed her that the great hulking thing should know she had +written the words of the song overnight; for though a maiden may +sing her most secret fancies aloud, she does not care to have them +trampled over by the male Philistine. They rode into the little +red-brick street of Bassett, and Georgie made untold fuss over the +disposition of that duck. It must go in just such a package, and +be fastened to the saddle in just such a manner, though eight +o'clock had struck and they were miles from dinner. + +"We must be quick!" said Miriam, bored and angry. + +"There's no great hurry; but we can cut over Dowhead Down, and let +'em out on the grass. That will save us half an hour." + +The horses capered on the short, sweet-smelling turf, and the +delaying shadows gathered in the valley as they cantered over the +great dun down that overhangs Bassett and the Western coaching-road. +Insensibly the pace quickened without thought of mole-hills; Rufus, +gentleman that he was, waiting on Miriam's Dandy till they should +have cleared the rise. Then down the two-mile slope they raced +together, the wind whistling in their ears, to the steady throb of +eight hoofs and the light click-click of the shifting bits. + +"Oh, that was glorious!" Miriam cried, reining in. "Dandy and I are +old friends, but I don't think we've ever gone better together." + +"No; but you've gone quicker, once or twice." + +"Really?. When?" + +Georgie moistened his lips. "Don't you remember the Thirty-Mile +Ride - with me - when 'They' were after us - on the beach-road, with +the sea to the left - going toward the lamp-post on the downs?" + +The girl gasped. "What - what do you mean?" she said hysterically. + +"The Thirty-Mile Ride, and - and all the rest of it." + +"You mean - ? I didn't sing anything about the Thirty-Mile Ride. +I know I didn't. I have never told a living soul.'" + +"You told about Policeman Day, and the lamp at the top of the downs, +and the City of Sleep. It all joins on, you know - it's the same +country - and it was easy enough to see where you had been." + +"Good God! - It joins on - of course it does; but - I have been - +you have been - Oh, let's walk, please, or I shall fall off!" + +Georgie ranged alongside, and laid a hand that shook below her +bridle-hand, pulling Dandy into a walk. Miriam was sobbing as he +had seen a man sob under the touch of the bullet. + +"It's all right - it's all right," he whispered feebly. "Only - +only it's true, you know." + +"True! Am I mad?" + +"Not unless I'm mad as well. Do try to think a minute quietly. +How could any one conceivably know anything about the Thirty-Mile +Ride having anything to do with you, unless he had been there?" + +"But where? But where? Tell me!" + +"There - wherever it may be - in our country, I suppose. Do you +remember the first time you rode it - the Thirty-Mile Ride, I +mean? You must." + +"It was all dreams - all dreams!" + +"Yes, but tell, please; because I know." + +"Let me think. I - we were on no account to make any noise - on no +account to make any noise." She was staring between Dandy's ears, +with eyes that did not see, and a suffocating heart. + +"Because 'It' was dying in the big house?" Georgie went on, reining +in again. + +"There was a garden with green-and-gilt railings - all hot. Do you +remember?" + +"I ought to. I was sitting on the other side of the bed before 'It' +coughed and 'They' came in." + +"You!" - the deep voice was unnaturally full and strong, and the +girl's wide-opened eyes burned in the dusk as she stared him through +and through. "Then you're the Boy - my Brushwood Boy, and I've known +you all my life!" + +She fell forward on Dandy's neck. Georgie forced himself out of the +weakness that was overmastering his limbs, and slid an arm round her +waist. The head dropped on his shoulder, and he found himself with +parched lips saying things that up till then he believed existed +only in printed works of fiction. Mercifully the horses were quiet. +She made no attempt to draw herself away when she recovered, but lay +still, whispering, "Of course you're the Boy, and I didn't know - +I didn't know." + +"I knew last night; and when I saw you at breakfast - " + +"Oh, that was why! I wondered at the time. You would, of course." + +"I couldn't speak before this. Keep your head where it is, dear. +It's all right now - all right now, isn't it?" + +"But how was it I didn't know - after all these years and years? +I remember - oh, what lots of things I remember!" + +"Tell me some. I'll look after the horses." + +"I remember waiting for you when the steamer came in. Do you?" + +"At the Lily Lock, beyond Hong-Kong and Java?" + +"Do you call it that, too?" + +"You told me it was when I was lost in the continent. That was you +that showed me the way through the mountains?" + +"When the islands slid? It must have been, because you're the only +one I remember. All the others were 'Them.' + +"Awful brutes they were, too." + +"I remember showing you the Thirty-Mile Ride the first time. You +ride just as you used to - then. You are you!" + +"That's odd. I thought that of you this afternoon. Isn't it +wonderful?" + +"What does it all mean? Why should you and I of the millions of +people in the world have this - this thing between us? What does +it mean? I'm frightened." + +"This!" said Georgie. The horses quickened their pace. They thought +they had heard an order. "Perhaps when we die we may find out more, +but it means this now." + +There was no answer. What could she say? As the world went, they +had known each other rather less than eight and a half hours, but +the matter was one that did not concern the world. There was a very +long silence, while the breath in their nostrils drew cold and sharp +as it might have been a fume of ether. + +"That's the second," Georgie whispered. "You remember, don't you?" + +"It's not!" - furiously. "It's not!" + +"On the downs the other night-months ago. You were just as you are +now, and we went over the country for miles and miles." + +"It was all empty, too. They had gone away. Nobody frightened us. +I wonder why, Boy?" + +"Oh, if you remember that, you must remember the rest. Confess!" + +"I remember lots of things, but I know I didn't. I never have - +till just now." + +"You did, dear." + +"I know I didn't, because - oh, it's no use keeping anything back! +because I truthfully meant to." + +"And truthfully did." + +"No; meant to; but some one else came by." + +"There wasn't any one else. There never has been." + +"There was - there always is. It was another woman - out there - +on the sea. I saw her. It was the 26th of May. I've got it written +down somewhere." + +"Oh, you've kept a record of your dreams, too? That's odd about +the other woman, because I happened to be on the sea just then." + +"I was right. How do I know what you've done when you were awake - +and I thought it was only you!" + +"You never were more wrong in your life. What a little temper +you've got! Listen to me a minute, dear." And Georgie, though he +knew it not, committed black perjury. "It - it isn't the kind of +thing one says to any one, because they'd laugh; but on my word and +honour, darling, I've never been kissed by a living soul outside my +own people in all my life. Don't laugh, dear. I wouldn't tell any +one but you, but it's the solemn truth." + +"I knew! You are you. Oh, I knew you'd come some day; but I didn't +know you were you in the least till you spoke." + +"Then give me another." + +"And you never cared or looked anywhere? Why, all the round world +must have loved you from the very minute they saw you, Boy." + +"They kept it to themselves if they did. No; I never cared." + +"And we shall be late for dinner - horribly late. Oh, how can I +look at you in the light before your mother - and mine!" + +"We'll play you're Miss Lacy till the proper time comes. What's +the shortest limit for people to get engaged? S'pose we have got +to go through all the fuss of an engagement, haven't we?" + +"Oh, I don't want to talk about that. It's so commonplace. I've +thought of something that you don't know. I'm sure of it. What's +my name?" + +Miri - no, it isn't, by Jove! Wait half a second, and it'll come +back to me. You aren't - you can't? Why, those old tales - before +I went to school! I've never thought of 'em from that day to this. +Are you the original, only Annieanlouise?" + +"It was what you always called me ever since the beginning. Oh! +We've turned into the avenue, and we must be an hour late." + +"What does it matter? The chain goes as far back as those days? +It must, of course - of course it must. I've got to ride round with +this pestilent old bird-confound him!" + +"'"Ha! ha!" said the duck, laughing'- do you remember that?" + +"Yes, I do - flower-pots on my feet, and all. We've been together +all this while; and I've got to say good bye to you till dinner. +Sure I'll see you at dinner-time? Sure you won't sneak up to your +room, darling, and leave me all the evening? Good-bye, dear - +good-bye." + +"Good-bye, Boy, good-bye. Mind the arch! Don't let Rufus bolt into +his stables. Good-bye. Yes, I'll come down to dinner; but - what +shall I do when I see you in the light!" + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext The Day's Work [Vol. 1], by Kipling + diff --git a/old/dyswk10.zip b/old/dyswk10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c85a8cc --- /dev/null +++ b/old/dyswk10.zip |