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- float: left; - margin-right: 1em } - -.align-right { clear: right; - float: right; - margin-left: 1em } - -.align-center { margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto } - -div.shrinkwrap { display: table; } - -/* SECTIONS */ - -body { margin: 5% 10% 5% 10% } - -/* compact list items containing just one p */ -li p.pfirst { margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0 } - -.first { margin-top: 0 !important; - text-indent: 0 !important } -.last { margin-bottom: 0 !important } - -span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } -img.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.5em 0 0; max-width: 25% } -span.dropspan { font-variant: small-caps } - -.no-page-break { page-break-before: avoid !important } - -/* PAGINATION */ - -.pageno { position: absolute; right: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.pageno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.lineno { position: absolute; left: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.lineno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.toc-pageref { float: right } - -@media screen { - .coverpage, .frontispiece, .titlepage, .verso, .dedication, .plainpage - { margin: 10% 0; } - - div.clearpage, div.cleardoublepage - { margin: 10% 0; border: none; border-top: 1px solid gray; } - - .vfill { margin: 5% 10% } -} - -@media print { - div.clearpage { page-break-before: always; padding-top: 10% } - div.cleardoublepage { page-break-before: right; padding-top: 10% } - - .vfill { margin-top: 20% } - h2.title { margin-top: 20% } -} - -/* DIV */ -pre { font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.9em; white-space: pre-wrap } - -</style> -<title>ALIVE IN THE JUNGLE</title> -<meta name="PG.Rights" content="Public Domain" /> -<meta name="PG.Title" content="Alive in the Jungle" /> -<meta name="PG.Producer" content="Al Haines" /> -<link rel="coverpage" href="images/img-cover.jpg" /> -<meta name="DC.Creator" content="Eleanor Stredder" /> -<meta name="DC.Created" content="1892" /> -<meta name="PG.Id" content="43595" /> -<meta name="PG.Released" content="2013-08-29" /> -<meta name="DC.Language" content="en" /> -<meta name="DC.Title" content="Alive in the Jungle A Story for the Young" /> - -<link href="http://purl.org/dc/terms/" rel="schema.DCTERMS" /> -<link href="http://id.loc.gov/vocabulary/relators" rel="schema.MARCREL" /> -<meta content="Alive in the Jungle A Story for the Young" name="DCTERMS.title" /> -<meta content="alive.rst" name="DCTERMS.source" /> -<meta content="en" scheme="DCTERMS.RFC4646" name="DCTERMS.language" /> -<meta content="2013-08-29T17:32:00.842534+00:00" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.modified" /> -<meta content="Project Gutenberg" name="DCTERMS.publisher" /> -<meta content="Public Domain in the USA." name="DCTERMS.rights" /> -<link href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/43595" rel="DCTERMS.isFormatOf" /> -<meta content="Eleanor Stredder" name="DCTERMS.creator" /> -<meta content="2013-08-29" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.created" /> -<meta content="width=device-width" name="viewport" /> -<meta content="EpubMaker 0.3.20a7 by Marcello Perathoner <webmaster@gutenberg.org>" name="generator" /> -</head> -<body> -<div class="document" id="alive-in-the-jungle"> -<h1 class="center document-title level-1 pfirst title"><span class="x-large">ALIVE IN THE JUNGLE</span></h1> - -<!-- this is the default PG-RST stylesheet --> -<!-- figure and image styles for non-image formats --> -<!-- default transition --> -<!-- default attribution --> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="clearpage"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="align-None container language-en pgheader" id="pg-header" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>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 </span><a class="reference internal" href="#project-gutenberg-license">Project Gutenberg License</a><span> -included with this eBook or online at -</span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a><span>.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<div class="align-None container" id="pg-machine-header"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>Title: Alive in the Jungle -<br /> A Story for the Young -<br /> -<br />Author: Eleanor Stredder -<br /> -<br />Release Date: August 29, 2013 [EBook #43595] -<br /> -<br />Language: English -<br /> -<br />Character set encoding: UTF-8</span></p> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-start-line"><span>*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>ALIVE IN THE JUNGLE</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-produced-by"><span>Produced by Al Haines.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span></span></p> -</div> -<div class="align-None container coverpage"> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 70%" id="figure-28"> -<span id="cover"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="Cover" src="images/img-cover.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">Cover</span></div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container frontispiece"> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 73%" id="figure-29"> -<span id="here-is-the-child-mr-desborough-cried-oliver-page-160"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""Here is the child, Mr. Desborough," cried Oliver. *Page* 160" src="images/img-front.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">"Here is the child, Mr. Desborough," cried Oliver. </span><em class="italics">Page</em><span class="italics"> </span><a class="italics reference internal" href="#id1">160</a></div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container titlepage"> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 64%" id="figure-30"> -<span id="pre-title-page"></span><img class="align-center block center" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="Pre-title page" src="images/img-pre-title.jpg" /> -<div class="caption center centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">Pre-title page</span></div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="x-large">ALIVE -<br />IN THE JUNGLE</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="large">A Story for the Young</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">BY -<br />ELEANOR STREDDER</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><em class="italics small">Author of "Jack and his Ostrich," -<br />"Archie's Find" -<br />etc.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="center line"><span>"In the night, O the night.</span></div> -<div class="center line"><span>When the wolves are howling."</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="center line"><span>TENNYSON.</span></div> -</div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">T. NELSON AND SONS -<br /></span><em class="italics medium">London, Edinburgh, and New York</em><span class="medium"> -<br />1892</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">Contents</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<ol class="upperroman simple"> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-old-gray-wolf">THE OLD GRAY WOLF</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#in-pursuit">IN PURSUIT</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#how-the-search-ended">HOW THE SEARCH ENDED</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-wolf-s-lair">THE WOLF'S LAIR</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#noak-holly">NOAK-HOLLY</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#away-to-the-hills">AWAY TO THE HILLS</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-rana-s-sons">THE RANA'S SONS</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-invitation">THE INVITATION</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#oliver-and-his-uncle">OLIVER AND HIS UNCLE</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-visit-to-the-rana-s-castle">A VISIT TO THE RANA'S CASTLE</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-footprint">THE FOOTPRINT</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#beating-the-koond">BEATING THE KOOND</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#caught-in-a-trap">CAUGHT IN A TRAP</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-homeward-road">THE HOMEWARD ROAD</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-little-savage">A LITTLE SAVAGE</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-conclusion">THE CONCLUSION</a></p> -</li> -</ol> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-old-gray-wolf"><span class="bold x-large">ALIVE IN THE JUNGLE.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER I.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics large">THE OLD GRAY WOLF.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Night was brooding over the wide and swampy -Bengal plain. The moon had sunk low in -the west, and was hiding behind a bank of threatening -clouds. Darkness and shadow covered the sleeping -world around. But the stilly quiet which marked -"the darkest hour of all the night" was broken by -the fierce growling of a tiger and a buffalo, fighting -furiously on the open highroad, within a dozen yards -of Mr. Desborough's indigo factory.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The jackal pack were gathering among the distant -hills, already scenting their prey. On they came, -rushing down the nearest valley in answer to their -leader's call—shrieking, wailing, howling in their haste -to be in time to pounce upon the tiger's leavings; -an ever-increasing wave of sound that startled the -weary factory-workers, sleeping in their mud-walled -huts under the mango trees. The pack sweep round -the straw-thatched sheds belonging to the factory, and -gather in front of Mr. Desborough's house.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was a large one-storied building, looking very -much like a Swiss cottage, with its gabled roof and -white-painted walls. The broad eaves projected so -far beyond the walls that they covered the veranda, -which ran right round the house. Like the sheds -of the factory, it was thatched. Beautiful climbing -plants festooned the columns which supported the -veranda, and flung their long trailing arms across the -pointed gables. A whole colony of wild birds nestle -in the reedy thatch, and find out quiet corners in the -cool shadow of that wide veranda. A pair of owls -are wheeling round and round. Kites, hoopoes, and -blue jays find such comfortable homes beneath -Mr. Desborough's eaves, and bring up such numerous -families, that the whole place seems alive with -twittering wings and chirping voices. But now the -flying-foxes, which have hung all day head -downwards from the trees like so many black bags, are -screaming and chattering at their shrillest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The hot May night seems more oppressive than -ever. There is neither peace nor rest. Every door -and window in the bungalow is wide open, for within -the heat is intense.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The youngest child is ill with fever, and cannot sleep.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Like so many English fathers and mothers living -in India, Mr. and Mrs. Desborough have lost several -of their children. Grief for those that were taken -from them makes them watch over the dear ones -that are left with nervous anxiety. Mr. Desborough -had put up a tent on the lawn, hoping the little -sufferer might find rest in the fresher air, surrounded -by the cool night-breezes and the sweet scent of the -flowers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The poor child was dozing on its mother's lap when -the yell of the jackals arose. They were quite safe -in their tent; for a mat was tied across the door, and -nothing could get in to hurt them. But how was -their boy to sleep in such a noise?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The fierce crescendo was reaching its loudest, when -Mr. Desborough came out with his loaded gun in his -hand, and fired it into the air, hoping the sound of a -shot would scare the jackals away. He was right: -the pack swept past with a mad rush, helter-skelter -on the tiger's track. He paused on the steps of the -veranda, and looked cautiously around him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The dark shadows of the trees were thrown across -the dewy grass. Overgrown bushes, swaying in the -night-wind, seemed to take to themselves fantastic -shapes. His garden might well be described as one -wild tangle of flowers. Roses of every shade, -carnations, mignonnette, petunias, myrtles, choked each other: -tall scarlet lilies and pomegranate flowers caught the -twining honeysuckle, and taught its trailing branches -to kiss the ground. Amidst this luxuriant profusion, -in the glamour of a darkened heaven, it was no -wonder Mr. Desborough did not distinguish the flick -of a tawny tail, creeping stealthily behind a giant -rhododendron. At the sound of the shot the old gray -wolf skulked down amidst the folded flowers; and the -father, after exchanging a word with his wife, went -back to his bed comforted, for his darling, his little -Horace, was conscious—yes, conscious—and crying -for his twin-brother Carlyon. Racy and Carl, as they -were usually called, had never before been parted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Poor little Racy had not known much about it -when his mother sent Carl into another room, and -refused to let Kathleen give him one good-night kiss. -Kathleen was their only sister—a soft-eyed, fragile -girl, about nine years old. She had wept with her -father and mother over an empty bassinet; and so, -when two little brothers were given to her in one -day, her delight knew no bounds. From the hour of -their birth she became their devoted slave.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carl, in the full wilfulness of his second summer, -was too little to understand the reason why he was -banished from his mother's lap and parted from Racy. -He strutted about in his indignant anger, looking as -red as a turkey-cock; and no one but Kathleen could -do anything with him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She invented some fresh amusement every time the -clamour for Racy was renewed. Her last great -success was the manufacture of a bridle of red ribbon for -Sailor, a big black retriever, the favourite playfellow -of the twins.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Kathleen, too, was wakened by the yelling of the -jackals. She heard her father's step in the veranda, -and listened to the sound of his gun as if it were a -waking dream.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A voracious mosquito, which had crept inside the -net curtains which enveloped her little bed, stung her -cheek. Up started Kathleen, and called to the ayah, -or native nurse, who slept on a mat by Carlyon's cot. -Yes, there was something the matter; she was sure of -it now. A small dusky hand put back the thin -curtains; a gentle, smiling black face peeped at her; and -cold water was sprinkled over the flushed forehead and -burning pillow, until Kathleen felt refreshed. Her -winged tormentor was caught and killed, and the ayah -would have left her; but no. Kathleen was broad -awake now. She was thinking about her father. -Something was the matter. Racy was worse. She -begged her ayah to go and see.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carl was safe in his cot on the other side of the -room, forgetting his baby troubles in happy slumber. -So the ayah, who fully shared her little mistress's -anxiety, ventured outside the curtained screen, or -purdah, as they called it, which was drawn half across -the open doorway. The room was large and lofty. -It was at the corner of the house, with doors opening -into the veranda on two sides. This helped to keep -it bearable in a usual way, with the help of a -great white calico fan fixed to the ceiling. This was -called the punkah. Two of the native servants were -kept in the veranda all night to work it by turns. -They were the punkah coolies. One of them was fast -asleep on his mat, and the other was nodding as he -lazily pulled the rope which moved the fan. They -assured the ayah all was right. No one was afraid -of the jackals. They seldom hurt any one unless they -were interfered with.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whilst she was speaking, Kathleen grew impatient, -and, persuaded that Racy was worse, she threw aside -the thin sheet, her only covering, and ran to the other -door. She was not tall enough to look over the -purdah, and slipped softly into the bathroom adjoining. -All the doors had been set wide open, so she made no -noise to waken her little brother. There was no glass -in the window of the bathroom. It was latticed, but -it too was wide open, and the blind was down. These -blinds, or tatties, are made of grass, and are kept -damp to cool the air passing through them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The troubled child managed to unfasten it and push -it just a little aside. There was the tent gleaming -white beneath the spreading trees. She could hear -her mother singing some soothing lullaby. The two -tall carriage-horses were cropping the tender buds -from the hedge of roses which divided the garden -from their paddock. She could see the gleam of the -lilied pool beneath the farthest trees, with the fire-flies -dancing round its banks like an ever-moving illumination. -She heard the cries of the tiger and the deep -bellow of the vanquished buffalo, and ran back to her -bed in a fright, leaving the blind awry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were safe from the tiger; for a tiger always -turns away from a fence, and Mr. Desborough's grounds -were surrounded by a high bank, with a low stone -wall on the top, shutting in garden, paddock, and -stable-yard, with only one gate for the carriage, and -that was locked. How had the wolf got in—that -grim, gaunt creature, which still sat washing its torn -shoulder behind the rhododendron unseen by any one? -It had had a round with the buffalo before the tiger -came out for his midnight stroll, and got that ugly -scratch from her antagonist's horn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So the wolf left the buffalo to the tiger, and plunged -into the stream which fed the pool. The water was -low, and the wolf was wary. The dive was pleasant. -A scramble up the opposite bank landed her in -Mr. Desborough's garden. Kathleen's peep-hole did not -escape the wolf's observation. She saw the child's -white face, and thought of her half-grown cubs. She -dashed through the window, under the loosened blind, -leaped clear over the row of tall earthenware water-jars -which stood before it, and followed the child into the -sleeping-room. Her unerring scent guided her to the -cot where Carl lay tossing. He had thrown off the -thin covering, and was fighting away the mosquito-net -which enveloped his cot. She seized the child in -her teeth, and was over the purdah with a bound.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Kathleen's wild shriek of terror called back the ayah.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The first fault gray of the summer twilight entered -with her, and rested on Kathleen's long fair hair, but -the empty bed in the other corner was still in shadow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Carl! Carl!" gasped Kathleen, and fainted in her -nurse's arms.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The hubbub that arose among the coolies who -were sleeping in the veranda, the frantic cries of -"Sahib! sahib!" brought Mr. Desborough to the scene -of dismay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had reloaded his gun, and snatched it up as he -came, out of all patience at the ill-timed noise, when -he had enjoined silence on every one whilst his darling -boy was sleeping at last—a sleep which, undisturbed, -meant life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Seeing nothing to account for the consternation -among his servants, he was on the point of refusing -to listen to their entreaty.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shoot, sahib, shoot! a booraba by the nursery!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A booraba—a wolf!" he repeated, discharging his -gun into the air with the rapidity of lightning, as -anger changed to fear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Unloose the dogs!" he cried, preparing to give it -chase, as his keen eye detected a break in the bushes -of the garden, and the trampled heads of the flowers, -which marked the track of the wolf. He knew very -well that not one of his Hindu servants would dare -to kill it, even if they had the chance. It was a -matter of conscience with them. It was a thing -they would not, dare not do, under any circumstances; -but they flew like the wind to obey his commands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The hounds came bounding round him, and were -soon on the trail of their midnight visitor. They -scented the wolf to the edge of the pool, and then -paused at fault, poking with their noses among the -water-lilies, and looking round at their master with -short, angry barks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Evidently the wolf had once more taken to the -water, and the scent was lost. Mr. Desborough saw -something moving on the other side of the pool, -among the reeds and grasses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He quickly readjusted the barrel of his gun, and -was preparing to fire, when his chuprassie, the -Hindu servant who carried messages in the day and -watched the premises at night, caught his arm, -exclaiming, "No, no, sahib! no shoot booraba."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Desborough shook him off angrily, and levelled -his gun.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shoot booraba, shoot baby!" cried out another -of his servants, who had just overtaken him. The -poor fellow was trembling like a leaf.—-"Come -to the beebee, Kathleen!" he entreated. "Come -quickly!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The truth flashed upon the father's mind—the -wolf had already entered his nursery. He rushed to -his wife's tent. His servants stopped him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The mem-sahib" (for so they called their mistress)—"the -mem-sahib knows nothing yet. Spare her till -we are sure."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One stride, and Mr. Desborough was over the -veranda railing, parting the chintz curtains of the -nursery purdah. The ayah threw herself at his feet, -and began to tear her hair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now Mr. Desborough knew very well that his -black servants exaggerated dreadfully. Their excited -imaginations magnified everything. It is the way in -the East, and a bad way it is. Having had two or -three false alarms, he never believed more than half -they told him. Could he believe them now? "Where -is Kathleen?" he demanded sternly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In another minute Kathleen's face was buried on -his shoulder, as she sobbed out her piteous story. "A -dog, papa—a huge, horrid, lean, lank dog—rushed out -of the bathroom, and ran away with Carl."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="in-pursuit"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER II.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics large">IN PURSUIT.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It was all too true. The punkah coolie was -fanning an empty cot—the child was gone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With Kathleen fainting in her lap, even the ayah -had not missed poor Carl in the moment of her -return. It was but a moment ere the alarm was raised, -yet the wolf had carried off her prey.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Charging the servants on no account to let the -mother discover that her boy was missing, until he -returned, Mr. Desborough started in pursuit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Like most English gentlemen in India, he was a -keen sportsman, and loved to hunt the wild hogs in -the bamboo swamps, with a party of his friends, and -plenty of native trackers and beaters to find the game -and drive it out of the thickets.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But he dare not wait to call his friends to his help. -He started forth alone with his coolies, to find which -way the wolf had gone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Tall trees were growing on either side of the -high-road, upon which his gate opened. A broad ditch -behind them drained the road in the rainy season, -when floods arose so easily. It was many feet deep; -and now the water ran low between its banks, dried -up by the great heat. The jackal pack had retired -with the growing daylight; the tiger had slunk -away before the rising sun. Well might Mr. Desborough -shudder and turn away from the remnants -of the dead buffalo, as he trembled for the fate of his -child. The country all around him was well -cultivated. Rice and dall (another kind of grain much -grown by the Hindu villagers) covered large fields -along the course of the stream. They were interspersed -by clumps of trees and groves of date-palms -growing amidst patches of jungle and tangle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the increasing heat had reduced the watercourse -to a succession of glistening pools, connected -by a muddy ditch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Already the hounds were busy among the fringe of -bushes which overhung its margin. Mr. Desborough -mounted his horse, and galloped after them, with the -broad white hat belonging to the lost child in his hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He soon came up with the dogs, and whistling -them to his side, he leaned down from his saddle, and -made them smell the hat and sun-veil (or puggaree) -little Carl had worn the evening before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They sniffed it well over, looked up in their master's -face with their keen, intelligent eyes, and started -once again in swift pursuit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They had passed the closed gates of the indigo -factory, but encountered one or two of the native -workers there, who had risen with the sun, and were -watering their fields and gardens before the business -of the day began. The district was studded with wells. -The water was drawn by bullocks into huge skins.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But they left their skins on the brink of the well, -and joined the servants, who were throwing stones -among the bushes, and howling with all their might, -to make the wolf show.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The noise brought out old Gobur from his little -homestead by the riverside. Mr. Desborough paused -by the bamboo paling which surrounded the little -enclosure, which was neither yard nor garden, but -partly both. He knew the aged Hindu had been a -chakoo, or look-out, in his prime. The different -hunting-parties in the neighbourhood used to hire -Gobur to go before them into the jungle, to watch -which way the wild beasts were roaming.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was the very man to help him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Within the bamboo fence was a tangle of wild -roses and creepers, twining about the roots of the -luxuriant fruit-trees shading the low mud hut in -which the old man lived; a tiny well sparkled like -crystal in the rosy light.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old man was gathering sticks to light his fire -in the one clear space beyond his trees.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He threw them to a graceful dusky figure just -peeping out of the door of the hut, and came to the -sahib's assistance. The shouts of Mr. Desborough's -servants, as they hurled about the biggest stones they -could raise, had told him only too plainly what had -happened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All the native Bengalese knew well the dangerous -propensity of the wolves in May, and guarded their -babies with double vigilance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He knew the hat in the father's hand, and with -scant words but many gesticulations tried to make -him understand the wolf was probably hiding in one of -the coverts near. If they scared her out, she might -drop the child; for it was that one dreaded month in -all the year when the wolves take home their prey -alive to their half-grown cubs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was hope in the old man's words, and the -father caught at it. Yet he dared not fire into the -dwarf cypress, where they all fancied the wolf might -be. No; his gun was useless on his shoulder, for he -might shoot his child. He could only follow the -example of his coolies, and join his shouts to theirs, -until they wakened the echoes. Jackal, wolf, and -night-hawk had alike disappeared with the rising -dawn. Gobur warned him a tiger might yet be -moving, as the morning breeze blew cool and fresh -after the sultry night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Desborough," demanded the cheery voice of -an English neighbour, "up with the sunrise, like -myself, to catch a mouthful of fresher air after frying -indoors all night? But what on earth is all this row?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The speaker was an English officer who was taking -his morning ride betimes, foreseeing still greater heat -as the day advanced. He was followed by his syce, -or native groom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The heat has done it," he exclaimed, as he heard -the father's piteous tale. "The streams are drying up -among the hills, and the wild beasts are driven to the -cultured plains to seek for water. I heard a tiger -grunting all night in the river; many may be lingering -in the thicket for their mid-day sleep. Poor -fellow! you'll see your baby no more."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The kind-hearted major turned his head away, he -could not look the distracted father in the face, as he -added, "Be a man, Desborough. Thank God for this -fresh breeze; it will save your other child—think of -that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But his syce pressed forward, with a low salaam, to -the unhappy sahib, to assure him he heard the cry of -a child from the grass by the river, pointing as he -spoke to a waving forest of graceful feathery blades, -full twenty feet high.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Cries of monkeys!" interrupted his master angrily, -provoked to see his poor friend tantalized with hopes -which seemed to him so utterly delusive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He reined in his horse by his side, and tried to -reason with him on the probable fate of his child. -They passed a group of sleepy vultures, perched upon -a boulder stone. If the poor baby had been dropped -living amidst the fields, how could it escape -destruction? Even Mr. Desborough was afraid to place -much trust in the syce's words, with the ever-increasing -chattering of monkeys and screaming of birds. -He looked at the wide plains around him, and at the -great herds of graceful, delicate-limbed, smoke-coloured -cattle, which were now being slowly driven out to -pasture. For the brief tropical twilight was over, -and day had fairly begun. The air was full of cries. -The voices of the night had but given place to the -myriad voices of the day. Was it possible for any -one to distinguish between them? He heard, or -seemed as if he heard, the shriek of his child -mingling with every sound, and he knew it was not real. -He heard it amidst the bellow of the fierce, -ungainly-looking buffaloes, who were marching forth in troops -from many a native village, followed by flocks of -goats and bleating sheep.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a hope which Mr. Desborough said hoarsely -"was no hope," he rallied his men to beat the huge -thicket of grass, and drive out any living thing -lurking within it. Afraid of hurling stones at a venture -into such a tangled mass, the coolies armed themselves -with long sticks, which they struck with a sharp, -ringing sound on the bark of the nearest trees. A -scampering was heard. The grass swayed hither and -thither. There was a cry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing but the scream of a frightened pig," -persisted the major. "It is the very spot for a wild -boar's lair."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He reined in his horse, and stationed himself where -he could command a good view of the thicket. -Mr. Desborough had chosen his post already, on the -opposite side, and was watching as if he were all eye, -all ear. Old Gobur had gone round to the back -of the thicket. Nothing could escape them rushing -from it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not too near," shouted the major to his friend. -"Have a care for your own life! No one knows yet -what it is we have dislodged."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As they watched the heaving grass, another cry -arose in the distance, prolonged and hideous. But -the friends knew well what it meant. A party of -travellers were approaching, and their tired bearers -were calling out for a relay of men from the village -to come and take their places.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ho, coolie, coolie, wallah! ho-o-o-o-o!" seemed to -ring through the air from all points, confusing every -other sound. Mr. Desborough's eye never moved -from the heaving mass before him. Out rushed a -whole family of wild pigs—a "sounder," as the -major called it. They were led by a grim old boar -with giant tusks, the very picture of savage ferocity. -He glared around him, ready to charge the enemy -who had dared to disturb him. He was followed by -pigs of every age and size, from a venerable sow, -tottering along from her weight of years, to squealing, -squeaking infants, who could scarcely keep pace with -their mothers. Oh, the screaming and the grunting, -the snorting and chasing, as the whole family of pigs -rushed across the opening towards the nearest mango -grove or tope!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Aware of the danger of facing such a formidable -charge, both gentlemen wheeled round, and prepared -to fire if necessary. The major was inwardly groaning -for the boar-spear that was standing idle in the corner -of his bungalow. He looked up, and perceived the -party of travellers coming along one of the narrow -paths which divided the rice-fields, just in front of the -bristling array of fiery eyes and curling tails. He -saw a lady's dandy—that is, a kind of canoe-shaped -seat with a canopy—carried on two men's shoulders. -There it was in the line of the angry pigs. The -danger to the unwary occupants was imminent. The -little cavalcade had halted in dismay. The major -thought of the naked legs of the bearers, who wore -nothing but their white calico waist-cloths and cotton -turbans, and galloped to the rescue, firing as he rode, -to make the old boar change his course.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The weary bearers shrank back in terror, raising -a wild howl for assistance, when a small lad, who -was riding a little pony in the rear, pressed forward -through the standing rice which had hitherto -concealed him, and planted himself in the front of his -companions, with no better defence than a huge bough -he had broken from the nearest tree.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well done, my young hero!" cried the major as -he rode up to them and waited; for dandy and bearers -had retreated behind the screen which the green ears -afforded, and safety was best secured by silence. The -furious boar came on, foaming and champing his -enormous tusks; but the well-timed shots urged him -forward. He crossed the path of the travellers -within a dozen yards of the hole into which the boy -had pushed them, with nothing but the growing -rice-straw for a shelter. The stampede of the pigs passed -over. The boy still stood sentinel behind his bough.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Trying the trick of Dunsinane," said the major, -with a laugh he intended to prove reassuring to the -unseen occupant of the dandy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well content if they do take me for a young -mango sapling," answered the little stranger, in the -shy, blunt tones of an English school-boy. His broad -sun-hat hid every bit of his face except the firm-set -white lips. The major had seen enough. He -dismounted, and assisted in lifting the dandy out of the -rice. The blades were higher than his head, and the -ground was more than muddy, for the field was -undergoing its morning irrigation from the nearest tank.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tie-tara! tie-tara!" cried the black partridges -they had unceremoniously disturbed. The birds, with -a tameness which astonished the young travellers, -fluttered about among the rice-stalks, pecking at the -curtains of the dandy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oliver, Oliver! where are you?" entreated a -girlish voice from within.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Safe, my dear young lady, quite safe," reiterated -the major. "Let me ask if you were intending to -change coolies at Noak-holly," pointing as he spoke -in the direction of the village nearest to the indigo -factory. "You had better join forces with us, as we -were the unfortunate cause of your alarm, having -dislodged those pigs whilst searching for a lost child."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A lost child!" re-echoed the voice within. "Oliver, -Oliver, can we help to find it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At that moment a great shout of triumph arose -around the grass clump, and with one accord the little -party pressed forward to ascertain its cause.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sharp report of a gun sent the major spurring -in advance. Had his friend forgot his caution? How -had he dared to fire?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Another moment and he saw Mr. Desborough wheel -round, raise himself slightly in his stirrups, and -discharge his second barrel at a dusky speck emerging -from the tufted grass. The tall blades swayed and -quivered with the report. There was a smothered -shuffling sound, a heavy thud upon the ground, a -rustling in the quivering grasses. The native grooms -ran forward eagerly, and dragged out the body of a -satiated wolf.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A cool shot, Desborough," observed the major.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It may save another parent such a pang as mine, -but it cannot give me back my child," groaned -Mr. Desborough.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="how-the-search-ended"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER III.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics large">HOW THE SEARCH ENDED.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Their work was not yet done. There were -many narrow paths leading into the clump, -which the wild beasts had made for their own -convenience. Some of the grass had been cut down by -the wild boar's tusks, and some of it had been trampled -under-foot. Mr. Desborough dismounted, determined -to penetrate the tangled mass, to see if any vestige of -his little darling was to be found there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The major followed him; old Gobur entered by -another path.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me go with you," entreated Oliver, as the -coolies set down his sister's dandy under a tree, and -flung themselves upon the ground to rest, waiting -until some of the men in the nearest village should -answer their summons, and present themselves -according to custom, prepared to take their places.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver had already picked up enough Indi to make -his request intelligible; but forcing his way into the -twisted grass was very trying. There were sudden -drops into holes and unexpected scrambles up steep -banks; whilst the twisted stalks, interlaced with most -luxuriant wild-flowers, presented an impervious wall -on either side, diversified by tufts of wild arrowroot -and an occasional bramble. Now and then old Gobur -paused to point out a porcupine's burrow, or to drag -his young companion aside, as a hissing snake wound -its green length across the path; whilst the impudent -monkeys chattered and screamed as they swung -themselves high over Oliver's head, rejoicing in the sudden -departure of their more formidable neighbours the -great pig family. Bright and beautiful birds peeped -at him out of their nests, unscared, with that happy -boldness common to all the feathered tribes in India; -because no Hindu boy would ever dream of hurting -or teasing any living thing. As for old Gobur, he -darted about like a monkey, dragging Oliver along -with him until they reached a sort of grassy tent in -the very centre of the clump. It was the wild-hog's -lair, which they love to make in the midst of -"thatching-grass," as Gobur called it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The boy went down on his hands and knees and -crept inside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a sort of grassy tent which its hoggish owner -had made by cutting down some of the grass with -his teeth. One half he had trampled under-foot, and -the other half he had heaved aloft with his head, as -he walked round and round in a circle, until his grassy -cave was complete.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>An aspiring porcupine was just disputing with a -giant rat which of the two had the better right to this -deserted mansion, when Oliver poked in his head. -Forthwith the rat, with his twelve-inch length of tail -switching from side to side, made a grab at his hair; -and the porcupine, bristling with spears, rushed at him. -Oliver received the charge on his arm, which he hastily -extended to save his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gobur pulled him backwards; but the resolute boy -refused to cry out, although the blood was streaming -from his elbow to his wrist.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver was wofully crestfallen at this unexpected -disaster. There was nothing for it but to retrace his -steps.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His silken shirt was torn to shreds, and his hat was -left in pawn with the rat. His knees were bruised, -with slipping into holes and crawling out again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Old Gobur began to think it wiser to extricate his -unknown companion than to continue a search which -he knew to be utterly hopeless. When they got free -of the grass at last, it was some small consolation to -Oliver to find they had penetrated farther into the -thicket than any one else. Mr. Desborough and the -major owned themselves baffled, and were now trusting -to the sagacity of the dogs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Poor Oliver's appearance attracted Mr. Desborough's -attention.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who is that boy?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A young stranger who joined in the search and -got scratched by a sahee," explained the grooms.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Such being the case, Anglo-Indian ideas of hospitality -compelled Mr. Desborough to offer him a bath -and breakfast if he would return with them to -Noak-holly and have his arm bound up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The major turned surgeon, and offered to do the job -for him on the spot. He had taken to the boy, and -wanted to know a little more about him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One of the syces pinned up a large leaf with -thorns, and fetched some water in it from the nearest -well. The major tore his own handkerchief into -strips, and bound up the lacerated arm with a wet -bandage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Taking the opportunity to satisfy his curiosity at -the same time, he quickly ascertained that Oliver -St. Faine and his sister Bona had come out to join an -uncle, a deputy-judge, who was to have sent to meet -them. They had travelled from Calcutta in a big -box, with shutters in the sides, so the boy asserted, -with a grimace at the recollection.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, of course," remarked the major; "that was -what we call a </span><em class="italics">dak-gharri</em><span>, our Eastern equivalent to a -post-chaise. Why did you leave it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because we were to leave at the last government -bungalow, and take a short cut across the country to -my uncle's; but it seems to be one of those short -things which grow longer with cutting," answered the -boy dryly. "There has been a muddle and a mistake. -The gentleman who took care of us on our journey -could come no farther, and some one was to have met -us. But that some one did not come; so he got the -pony for me, and hired these fellows to carry my -sister, and I believe they have lost their way."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then we will put you in it again. Come on -with us to Noak-holly; and when I have done all I -can in this melancholy business to help poor -Desborough, I will take you myself to Judge St. Faine -in the cool of the evening," said the major.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Kathleen was watching for her father's return. -Her sad eyes grew bright with excitement and hope -as she heard the gate open. She was sitting by the -gardener, in the midst of a heap of roses and -carnations which he had just flung down, on the shady -side of the veranda; for India is a very land of -flowers. He had brought in his baskets full, as -usual, to adorn the rooms, and was sitting -cross-legged in his snowy turban, weaving them with his -dexterous fingers into wreaths and bouquets of -surpassing loveliness. But the sweet perfume and the -fresh, cool touch of the leaves, which Kathleen loved -so well, had lost their charm. The roses fell from -her lap, and she trampled recklessly upon the glorious -azaleas with which he had been trying to divert her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She sprang into her father's arms. "Horace is -better!" she cried. "He has slept; he will get well, -papa. But have you found Carl?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her father pressed her to him and turned his head -away as he answered, "We have been searching -everywhere. No, darling; we have not found him -yet. These people must all have breakfast. There! go -to that young lady. In mamma's absence I must -leave her to you.—I dare not tell her the worst," he -added in a low aside to the major as he turned -towards the tent, where the hardest task of all awaited -him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In shy obedience to her father's wishes, Kathleen -followed the major to the gate. As Bona St. Faine -was lifted out of her dandy, she too whispered -something about the sincere sympathy of a stranger, and -her exceeding reluctance to intrude at such a time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The major thought it a pretty little speech from -a stranger; so he engaged her forthwith to do her -best to comfort his little fairy Kathleen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bona promised readily; and Oliver, who gave no -promise, did still more. They took the little girl -between them, and would have led her to the house; -but she hung back, intent upon the coolies, who -were bringing home the dead wolf. She slipped -her hand away from Miss St. Faine and ran to the -gate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fetch her back, Oliver," whispered his sister. -"It is dreadful to let her see that brute. You say -it has devoured her brother."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But he was too late to prevent it. Kathleen was -peeping through the iron-work of the gate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is the wolf," he said gently. "Your father -shot it. It will never frighten you again. Come -and tell us all about it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't," persisted Kathleen. "Let me look." She -laid her hand on the iron. It was so hot to the -touch in that burning sunshine it almost blistered her -fingers; but she did not heed that. "Did papa -shoot the wolf?" she asked, with a painful catch in -her breath between each word. "Then where is Carl?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver dare not tell her, for he had heard what -her father had said to the major; and being of a -straightforward turn of mind, who naturally answered -yes or no to every inquiry—"I will tell you" or -"I will not tell you"—he was quite at a loss for a -reply, not having the least idea how to evade a -question.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why don't you speak?" she asked desperately.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver muttered something, and creaked the gate, -so that she could not hear what he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Out she flew panting, Oliver after her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What could he do that for!" exclaimed his sister, -considerably chagrined. "How just like a boy! He -always is so stupid. I believe he wanted to have a -look at the wolf himself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The syces had laid the dead animal on the bank -which ran round Mr. Desborough's compound, and -were standing under the shadow of the garden trees -considering it. They called to the gardener to bring -them some fern leaves and bushes to cover the wolf -from the sun, until they knew whether the sahib -wished to preserve its skin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a savage-looking brute, young, for its -prevailing colour was a tawny fawn, with a little gray -on its back and inside its legs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is not the horrid dog that ran away with -Carl!" exclaimed Kathleen. "It was not a buff -dog; it was a gray dog, with a great scratch on its -shoulder. I should know it anywhere. I see it -now—I always see it—stealing out of the bathroom."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The gardener pressed in between and threw his -load of fern leaves over it, to prevent her seeing any -more of the fierce booraba. Her own favourite syce, -who drove her out in her little carriage every evening, -tried to lead her away. Old Gobur stopped him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let the little beebee [the little lady] look."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It will only terrify her; and the sahib will be -angry," urged the syce.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stop!" persisted Gobur, speaking in his soft Indi, -which Oliver tried hard to follow; and then the old -man explained—"The colour of a wolf tells its age: -they all turn gray as they grow old. If a gray -wolf carried off the child, it has carried it off alive. -We must search again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this moment Bona St. Faine appeared at the -gate, and taking little Kathleen's hand in hers, led -her resolutely away, threatening the servants with -their master's displeasure for suffering such a child -to see the dead wolf.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How wrong of you, Oliver!" she said, glancing at -her brother reproachfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To avoid her upbraiding, which Oliver felt he -deserved, he stepped behind old Gobur, who was -forcing open the wolf's mouth and examining its teeth. -He sprang up excitedly and pointed to the little bits -of matted hair sticking about them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is that?" he asked triumphantly. "Where -did that come from? The buffalo hide. The wolves -as well as the jackals follow the tiger to feast on -what he leaves, as every hunter knows. The little -beebee is right. We must search again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How Oliver listened! These dark-skinned men, -who were chattering round him so fast, had lived in -the midst of wild beasts all their lives.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One was telling of a wolf which had stolen a baby -from its mother's arm as she lay sleeping.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The gardener hurried away to find his master. The -coolies who had carried Bona's dandy joined in the -eager discussion; some were contradicting the old -man's assertion, others were asking questions none of -them could answer. Had any one heard the child -cry? No, not even the coolies in the veranda. Why, -they kept on fanning the empty cot! The child had -been spirited away in its sleep. Only a clever old -wolf could have done it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That scratch on its shoulder—was the blood -dropping from it?" asked Gobur, almost breathlessly. -"Wherever a drop has fallen you will find the black -ants covering it by this time. Run and look."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Up sprang Mr. Desborough's own syce, followed by -half-a-dozen others, gesticulating and talking all at -once at the top of their voices.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stop that row!" exclaimed Mr. Desborough, who -was bending over the cot of his other little boy, -trying to prepare its mother for the dread disclosure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Out went the major. "Two wolves indeed! Preposterous!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The syce pointed to the patches of tiny black ants -which he had found along the veranda and across the -grass, as Gobur expected.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sahib," he asked suggestively, "is it from the -wolf or from the child?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"From the child," answered the major, examining -the rhododendron bushes, where the crushed flowers -and broken stalks were thickly covered by the busy -insects.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Both believed they had found the fatal spot to -which the wolf had retreated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver had gone up to the fountain on the lawn, -and was deluging his bandaged arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go indoors, my boy, and rest," said the major, as -he passed him, "or you will suffer for it with that arm."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver walked slowly on towards the veranda, -examining for himself the little black patches that -marked the trail of the wolf. He traced its course -from the rhododendron to the window of the bathroom, -then he discovered a second trail leading from -the veranda to the pool.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He pointed it out to the gardener, who was returning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wasn't old Gobur right after all?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The punkah coolie joined them. He was certain -he must have heard the snap of the wolf's teeth if -he were behind that bush. For a wolf, they both -asserted, bites with a snap, and clashes its teeth with -as much noise as a steel trap. No; it had carried off -the child alive to its lair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver bounded up the steps of the veranda, and -ran into the hall. Kathleen was flitting restlessly -from room to room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Be comforted, dear!" he exclaimed; "your brother -is not killed. We may find him yet, alive in the -jungle."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-wolf-s-lair"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IV.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics large">THE WOLF'S LAIR.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Yes, it was all true! That grim gray wolf was -not seeking an early breakfast for herself, but -a safe plaything for the five young wolflings which -she loved so dearly. She cared but little for the -scratch on her shoulder when she thought of their -delight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She snatched up Carl so stealthily, and with so -soft a touch, he never wakened until he felt the cool -breeze that arose with the peep of day, fanning his hot -cheeks as the wolf ran swiftly on. It was too dark -for him to see where he was, or he might have been -frightened into fits. He put up his two little chubby -hands and felt the wolf's shaggy coat. He thought -it was Sailor, and threw his arm lovingly round the -big throat. He was far too sleepy to take much -notice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The wolf gave him a gentle swing, as she still ran -at her fastest pace,—aware, by the way in which she -looked over her shoulder, that the pursuers were -already on her track. She could hear the baying of -the dogs, and darting down the river-bank, hid -herself in a natural hollow formed by the dripping of a -little spring. She laid Carl down where the cool -drops trickled on his head, and he was soon asleep -again, sounder than before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The wolf knew well what she was about. In that -quiet water-cradle, with long trailing creepers for -fly-curtains, and the softest of mosses for a bed, the child -never roused to utter a sound.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Many a native mother tries the same plan, and -puts her little black baby to sleep in a shallow -watercourse when the heat and the insects become intolerable, -and so secures a few hours' refreshing sleep for -it on the most sultry days.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The dogs lost the scent when the wolf stepped into -the water, and scoured the plain beyond her retreat. -Then the wary creature took up her prize once more, -and doubling cleverly upon her pursuers, made her -way to the hills, where her mate was keeping watch -over the precious wolflings. A run of five miles -through the morning air was an invigorating -experience after his fretful, feverish night, and Carl -waked up at last, with a stretch and a laugh, quite -unconscious of his perilous position.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They had entered one of the basins scooped in the -side of the hills, where the wild beasts made their -retreat. The gorge was narrow at the entrance, and -partly filled up by dislodged stones and fallen rocks, -now overgrown with tangle and jungle, and -overshadowed by spreading trees.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These places are called </span><em class="italics">koonds</em><span> in India; and in -the rainy season are well watered by a mountain -torrent, dashing and foaming from the heights above. -Beneath those precipitous rocks, and through the -dense foliage which clothed them, the hottest rays of -the midday sun could scarcely penetrate. Now, at -that early hour, it was so dark Carl could distinguish -nothing but a dog-like form. He was still dreaming -of his faithful Sailor, and began to struggle and kick -to be set on his feet. His hands had dabbled in the -wolf's blood, and he rubbed his half-open eyes, -wondering more and more why his ayah did not come and -make Sailor leave go of him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The rapid exercise had made the wolf's torn shoulder -burst out bleeding again, and as they forced their -way through a perfect sea of grass and fern and -flowers, under bush and over brake, he became smeared -all over. This was his safeguard. Wolves live for -the night, and trust to their own keen scent to -recognize each other, in the blackness of darkness which -envelopes them, as they penetrate deeper and deeper -into the innermost recesses of the koond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It is a well-known fact that when a pack of wolves -are out hunting, if one of their number gets into a -fight, and becomes smeared with the blood of their -prey, the rest of the pack mistake it for the object of -their chase, and tear it to pieces instead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We think only of the savage ferocity of the wolf -when it is seeking its prey, but it has a warm and -loving heart beneath its shaggy coat. The nobility -of the dog is in it; and to each other they are as -faithful, affectionate, and obedient, and even more -intelligent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The gray wolf stopped at last before a luxuriant -korinda bush. The thick-leaved branches arched -over until they touched the ground, forming a leafy -tent so thick and dark and cool no rain could filter -through, and the brightest sunshine could scarcely -dart more than a flickering glimmer upon the -snug nest it sheltered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Such was the spot the wolves had chosen for their -nursery. They had dug a hole and lined it with the -softest moss they could find, and the wolf-mother had -torn off the hair from her own coat to improve her -babies' bed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Five little heads popped up to welcome mother, as -the gray wolf, with Carl in her mouth, pushed her -way beneath the branches; and the grim, gaunt -wolf-father, who had been guarding them in her absence. -got up with a stretch as she dropped the child into -the midst of the pricking ears and wagging tails. -She had brought Carl to her wolflings as a cat -brings a mouse to her kittens, to teach them how to -kill and to devour; but the savage lesson was yet -unlearned. They were more ready for play than -for lessons, and found infinite delight in tearing his -shirt to pieces, and freeing him from so strange an -encumbrance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They rolled over and over together as puppies love -to do; and when Carl cried, not knowing what to -make of such strange surroundings, the wolf-father in -much perplexity sniffed all over him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Could that smooth-skinned, hairless little creature -be one of his cubs? How he pricked up his ears -every time the small lips puckered, half in fear, and -more than half in anger, because nobody came to -fetch Carl! The deepening sobs ended at last in a -roar that made the five strong wolflings howl in concert.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The shaggy mother stepped into her nest and -cuddled her young ones lovingly in her rough paws. -The sixth little head crept closer and closer until it -also found a pillow on that hairy shoulder. Sleeping -in the dark on the dewy moss, Carl dreamed of Sailor -in a rougher coat, and waked to find his dream a -reality. But his arms were round his hairy nurse, -and the pouting lips were kissing her rough cheek, -as if she really were his own dear old doggie.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Could he have seen the savage face, he might have -been afraid.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Those who live in the land where wild beasts dwell, -know that a loving caress will even induce a tiger -to withdraw its teeth; but few, very few, have the -courage and presence of mind to try it. It is just -another proof that love, which is stronger than death, -is also stronger than the savage instincts of wolves -and tigers; reminding us of that millennial day when -the wolf shall lie down with the lamb, and none -shall hurt or destroy in all God's holy mountain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rare as such instances are, they do really happen, -and many a story is told under the banyan trees of -Bengal of children who have been brought up thus -in a wild wolf's nest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From that hour the grim and savage creature -looked on Carl Desborough as her own.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He waked up wide at last, hungry and thirsty. -Old Gray Legs, the fierce wolf-father, cracked a -marrow-bone with his formidable teeth as a boy -might crack a nut, and gave it to him to suck. The -wild honey trickled from the rocks above the korinda -bush. Ripe mangoes dropped from the trees around, -and lay ready to his baby hand in the drying grass, -and other wild fruits ripened and fell around him as -the summer days went on. It must have worried the -wolf-mother that he cared so little for flesh, which her -cubs begin to eat at five weeks. But nothing comes -amiss to a wolf in the shape of food, so she let him -help himself to what he liked best.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The wild birds sang overhead; the frogs croaked -in the grass, and queer-looking lizards basked in the -chinks of the rock; crawling snakes wound their -slimy length about unheeded, as they hissed in anger -or basked in some happy spot into which a straggling -sunbeam happened to penetrate. Carl might shriek -with terror when he heard the tigers grunting in -the bed of the stream, as the search for water grew -more difficult every day, or the "Ugh! ugh!" of a -grizzly bear in search of the mangoes in which it so -delights; but he was really safe, for the wolves never -leave their young alone. If one parent takes a stroll, -the other remains to watch over them, and at the -sound of their cry the whole pack would rally to -their defence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carl was so much weaker and so much more helpless -than their other wolflings, that Old Gray Legs -and his mate kept him close beside them when he -ventured outside his mossy hole.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No human foot had ever penetrated this forest -fastness, and if some echo of a hunter's cry did -occasionally waken its solitudes, it was scarcely heeded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was as if poor little Carl had been transported -to another world, beyond the reach of all who loved -him so dearly. As the weeks went on he forgot his -home, or remembered it only in dreams. Like a baby -Robinson Crusoe,</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>"He was out of humanity's reach;</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span>Must he finish his journey alone—</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span>Never hear the sweet music of speech,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span>And start at the sound of his own!"</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The young wolflings made him run on all fours; -for if they saw him stand upright, one or other was -sure to leap on his back and roll him over. Besides, -it was often much easier to crawl than to walk in -that trackless wild of fallen rocks and marshy swamps, -where decaying tree-trunks barred the path, and -unsuspected burrows perforated what might otherwise -have been described as solid ground.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Like all wild beasts, the wolves retreated to their -secret bower for a midday sleep, and took their stroll -in the moonlight. So Carl was almost always in the -dark, and his eyes grew so weak he began to blink -like an owl in the sunshine. For sometimes he waked -up when his wolfish companions were all fast asleep, -and at such times he was apt to stray beyond the -dense foliage of the korinda. Now and then the -fierce blaze of the noonday sun shot a swift ray across -the drying watercourse, where a fallen tree made a -break in the thick masses of leaves that for the most -part shut out sky and sun altogether. He would -scramble over the rough ground, attracted by its -brilliancy, and then, half-blinded by the -unaccustomed light, stumble and fall. Many a sad hurt -befell him, and many a time Old Gray Legs fetched him -home; many a fight he had with chattering monkeys -and sprightly-spotted fawns—fights which would -have ended badly for Carl but for the vigilance of -his foster-parents. But the scars and scratches, the -bites and stings, taught him at last to find protection -and safety by the gray wolf's side, until he became -afraid to lose sight of her, and answered her slightest -call as dutifully as the five strong cubs, who were now -his sole playfellows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He became the old wolf's constant care; for the -perils which surrounded him increased when week -after week wore away, and the ever-increasing heat -dried up the last and deepest pool, which had remained -to mark the course of the once dashing torrent. The -blackening grasses rustled as the wolves rushed hither -and thither, with their tongues hanging out of their -mouths from thirst; and the young things cried for the -water they could not find.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the moon rose behind the rocky steeps -which shut in the koond with its precipitous wall, -the patriarch of the pack gave tongue, and called his -hairy children to follow him out. The time had come -for those five wolflings to obey the call, and Carl was -as unwilling to be left behind as the gray wolf was -to leave him. Out, out he went into the silvery -moonlight, led by the two old wolves into the very -midst of the pack, catching something of the -excitement of the hunt as the wolves swept down the -dried-up river-bed with an appalling howl, in pursuit of -their flying prey. To keep up with them was -impossible, and when he could neither run nor crawl, in his -terror he scrambled upon his foster-mother's back -and rode.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When that appalling howl rang through the -midnight air, every sleeper in Noak-holly wakened in -trembling fear; and yet a bit of white rag fluttering -at the end of a tall bamboo would have made so good -a "scare-wolf" that it would have kept the whole -pack at a respectful distance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After nights like these, Carl grew vigorous and -strong, bounding into the air, and leaping like the -young fawn they were pursuing, and running on all -fours with astonishing swiftness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Once he was almost left behind, as the whole pack -scampered off suddenly at the unwelcome sound of -the hunting-horn of a Rana, or small hill chieftain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The child was left staring wistfully at the Hindu -train; for, like the wolves, the Rana had chosen the -midnight to come out with his hog-spear and beat the -jungle for his share of the game with which the hills -abounded. But the sight of the turbaned heads and -the dusky faces, the bare black arms poising the long -bamboo-handled spears, and the sound of their -unearthly cries, aroused no thought of home in the heart -of the baby hunter. They only terrified him. The -boy was growing wild. With a leap and a yell he -bounded into the air, for the Rana's dogs were upon him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Out from the towering moonje grass rushed the -returning wolves, hemming him round as they would -the weakest of the pack, and fighting off the hounds.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carl was down; but Gray Legs stood over him and -brought him out of the fray unhurt, although the -Rana's spear stuck in the ground within an inch of -his naked chest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is a boy in the midst of the pack," said the -Rana's jogie or beater, who had thrown the spear—"a -child of the fair people"—for so the Hindus amongst -themselves usually call the Europeans.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="noak-holly"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER V.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics large">NOAK-HOLLY.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Alive in the jungle. These words, which had -brought such comfort to little Kathleen in -her childish simplicity, were torture to Mr. Desborough, -as he pictured his boy dropped by the wolf -in the midst of the pathless wilds, the dwelling-places -of those ravenous beasts, and not of them alone. -He thought of the birds of prey that lodged unheeded -in those stately trees—the brooding vultures, the -screaming kites. He seemed to see the poisonous -hissing snakes, the stinging scorpions, and creeping -things innumerable, that infest the trackless -undergrowth of the hill forests.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell me anything but that!" he exclaimed, -shuddering. The search was renewed with an added -desperation. By the water's edge, among the broad -crinkly-edged lily leaves which starred the stream -and formed fairy rafts for innumerable water-wagtails, -he found a fragment of embroidered muslin, torn off -by cruel teeth from Carly's tiny sleeve. He saw it -was blood-stained. He saw no more, for the fierce -sun shot its hottest rays upon his uncovered head. -His hat fell as he stooped to secure it, and he sank -unconscious on the slippery bed of the drying stream.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dropped with the heat," said the major, who -thought all further search was vain, and he bade the -servants convey their master home.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The house was now hermetically closed, every door -and window shut up to exclude the heat. The -well-moistened tatties cooled the hot air as it passed -through them, and kept the darkened rooms just -bearable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It is the custom of most families in India to have -two breakfasts: one quite early; the second, which -is called </span><em class="italics">tiffen</em><span>, resembles the French </span><em class="italics">déjeûner</em><span>, and is -ready a little before noon. The early breakfast had -been forgotten by every one in Noak-holly that -morning. The black servants were gliding noiselessly -about; and when the major inquired for his little -fairy Kathleen, they confidentially informed him that -the little beebee would not eat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bring her in to tiffen," said the major; and he -strolled into the familiar dining-room, where he found -his new acquaintance of the morning, Miss Bona St. Faine, -seated in solitary state. At any other time, -the odd expression of her face would have convulsed -him with laughter. She was new to Indian ways, -and was looking very blankly at an empty table to -which she had been solemnly conducted by Mr. Desborough's -butler, Bene Madho. She was feeling very -hungry, understood she was summoned to breakfast, -and saw nothing before her but flowers. Oliver, who -had just emerged from the bathroom, appeared at -another door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish," she said almost petulantly, "you would -not leave me in such awkward fixes in a stranger's -house. You might behave a little more like a -gentleman, Oliver. In such circumstances as these no one -likes to give trouble, but I am really getting ill for -want of food."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is coming," said her brother, as the black -servants, who had only been waiting for the major, made -their appearance, handing round course after course -of fish and curry and game.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Down flew a whole troop of impudent young -sparrows. Some darted after the dishes in the -servants' hands, and others set to work on the crumbs -by Bona's plate, quite unabashed by the near -neighbourhood of her knife and fork.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Little Kathleen was brought in by her ayah, a -coolie following, anxious to obey to the uttermost the -incoherent charges of their prostrate master—"Take -care of my little Kathleen."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The stately Bene Madho brought her plate of -stewed fowl and rice, the usual diet of children in -India; but it stood untasted before her. The major -patted her feverish cheek, afraid to allude to her lost -brother, for fear of bringing on another passionate -outburst of her childish sorrow. He sent the ayah -away, thinking the child would only copy the -lamentations and cries in which she indulged—a display -of grief very distasteful to the English officer. His -young companions sat silent and constrained, watching -Kathleen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She will fret herself into a fever before night," -said the major. "Weeping becomes dangerous with -the thermometer at 110°. I must intrust her to you, -my dear young lady. Try and comfort her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But from all Bona's endeavours Kathleen shrank. -She did not want the strangers; she wanted her -own mamma; she longed only to creep into some -quiet corner and cry unseen. This was just what the -major was charging Bona to prevent. The shy child -fixed her large pleading eyes on the old soldier's face, -and the white lips moved, but there was no word that -any of them could understand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They had fetched her away from her ayah, feeling -as if the nurse must be in some way to blame for the -catastrophe of the night, and was no longer to be -trusted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She ought never to have the care of these -children again," said Bona energetically. "Stranger -as I am, I will remain with the little girl, if -Mrs. Desborough wishes me. I will, indeed, if they are -going to send the woman away."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a Job's comforter you are!" muttered Oliver, -as the spoon fell from Kathleen's fingers in dismay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was not my ayah let in the wolf; it was me," -Kathleen sobbed. "Let me go and tell mamma all -about it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell me," suggested the major, drawing her -between his knees.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"O my dear!" exclaimed Bona, horrified. "Surely -you never did. How could you be so naughty?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver got up and stood by the major, that he -might not lose a single word of the faltering confession.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I never can be happy until Carly's found—never, -never!" murmured Kathleen, putting both -her little hands into the major's, and repeating -earnestly, "You will tell mamma it was all my -doing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The gravity of the look which stole over the -major's face as he listened choked Kathleen's voice -with sobs, for she felt every one would blame her, -and she was shy and sensitive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How could you meddle with the blind?" exclaimed -Bona. "Only think, my dear, of the terrible -consequences!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, talk to her, Miss St. Faine," said the major. -"She must never do such a thing again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bona laid her hand on Kathleen's shoulder, but she -shook it off, and darting away into the darkest -corner of the hall, hid herself behind her father's -door, dislodging a whole family of toads, who had -crept indoors to find a shelter from the heat. -Kathleen's kitten hotly resented this intrusion, and sprang -after them with tail erect and bristling hair. The -toads receiving many sharp pats on their broad backs -from her uplifted paw, were driven across the hall, -backwards and forwards, keeping Bona dancing on -one foot as she tried to follow Kathleen. But at last -she fled in disgust, as the whole toad family were -sent leaping into her dress by pussy's officious paw.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oliver! Oliver!" she entreated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He came to her help with a laugh, which seemed -so out of place in the mournful house he felt ashamed -of himself the next minute. He knelt down beside -Kathleen. "I like you, my little woman," he -whispered. "You took the blame on your own shoulders, -like a brick. Oh, what little shoulders they are! Of -course, a boy would have done so. Don't fret about -how the wolf got in too much. They are awful -creatures. I am a sailor boy. Terrible things happen -at sea. My father was captain of a merchant vessel. -I have been to Calcutta before with him. He died -at sea. The mate brought the ship into port. Bona -is only a school-girl, fresh from England. She was -coming out to uncle, so they sent me on with her. -Never mind her, she is such a fuss-fuss!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Awkward as Oliver's attempts at consolation were, -Kathleen felt they were sincere. She looked into his -honest brown eyes and repeated her question—the -question every one shrank from answering—"What -will the big wolf do with Carly?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Iffley," called Mr. Desborough from the other -side of the chintz curtain which did duty for a door, -"stop those children's tongues, or I shall go mad."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The major laid an imperative hand on Oliver's arm -and marched him off into the veranda, where a mat -in a shady corner invited him to take the siesta he -so much needed after his night-journey. The ayah -carried Kathleen away in her powerful arms.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The stifling, burning heat grew more and more -intense. The heavy sleep of sorrow slowly stole over -the desolated household, and the weary day wore on. -The coolies, who had been abroad since the dawn, -returned one by one to eat their rice and repeat the -same tale—"No trace! no hope!" There was -nothing more to be done. There is no land like -India for sudden calamity. Those of us who pass -many years among its rice-fields and banyan trees -learn a resignation and a promptitude in action not -common elsewhere. To do quickly all that ought to -be done, before it is too late, is so imperative that no -one was surprised when Mr. Desborough announced -his determination to send Mrs. Desborough and the -two children still left to them to the hills immediately.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This very night, if it were possible!" he -exclaimed, as he caught up Racy, only to grieve the -more over the loss of poor little Carly. A terrible -fear of another midnight alarm oppressed the whole -household. The syces lighted fires close outside the -compound, to scare away any wild beasts which might -be prowling about in the groves and thickets. Every -precaution was taken.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The sun was sinking. The brief ten minutes of -summer twilight had come when every one in India -hurries into the open air. The long white line of -road winding between the shady rows of trees was -alive with traffic. Bona and Oliver stood ready for -departure, watching the novel scene.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Straggling groups of workers from the indigo -factory loitered round the gates of Mr. Desborough's -compound—hideous-looking creatures with waist-clothes, -hands and faces all blue: a whole troop of -Bluebeards, which Bona thought would haunt her -very dreams. They meekly drew aside and salaamed -to the ground, as a gilded carriage, drawn by a pair -of white humped oxen, swept by. A long line of -carts, creaking under their loads of indigo pulp, -quickly followed. The scantily-clothed villagers who -accompanied them were uttering most unearthly cries -to encourage their weary beasts. A deafening sound -of splashing of water and stamping of feet told of the -near neighbourhood of a drove of buffaloes returning -to their homes for the night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver looked for them in vain. They were making -a pathway through the pool, and only the tips of -their noses were to be seen as they sniffed the evening -air, or snatched a mouthful of lily-leaves with snorts -of rejoicing; while groups of merry children on the -opposite bank were washing all the clothing they -had—a broad white calico sash or waist-cloth. Their -washing was a curious performance. They banged -one end of the sash on a smooth stone, just under the -water, until it fluttered before them white as snow, -then they turned it and washed the other end.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A group of travellers, resting under a tree on the -opposite side of the road, watched the lighting of the -fires with evident curiosity, as they passed a friendly -hookah, or pipe, from one to another. They smoked, -and listened to the remarks of the indigo-workers, -who were charging the children to hasten home before -the darkness gathered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All were talking, all were discussing the disaster of -the morning—rejoicing that the wolf had eaten the -bullet of the sahib, and their children might sleep in -peace.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Major Iffley was bargaining with a party of coolie -wallahs, who had come from the village, to carry -Bona's dandy to the judge's bungalow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Desborough put back the curtain of her tent, -and waved a farewell to the brother and sister on the -eve of their departure, and entreated the major to -remain with them that night at least.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was pale and calm, but the havoc which that -day had made in her appearance had reduced her to -a shadow of her former self.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not me only, but my loaded gun," he answered, -as he hastened to assure her every precaution they -could devise was already taken.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bona and Oliver drew a few steps nearer, looking -the sympathy they knew not how to express in -words. But the curtain fell suddenly, and they saw -no more of the mournful mother behind it. Even the -major, old family friend as he was, would not, could -not intrude on the sacredness of a grief like hers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He shook hands with his new young friends, hoped -for a happier meeting before long, and returned to the -veranda of Mr. Desborough's bungalow. He loaded -his gun with scrupulous care, and beguiled the weary -night-watch by smoking an unlimited number of -pipes, and growling at the numerous inmates of -sun-cracked walls and retired corners, not to mention the -disturbances of the punkah coolies, who cried out in -terror every time a big Langour monkey stole across -the lawn or a wild-cat leaped from the trees, one and -all declaring that another wolf had ran away with the -little beebee.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To have had a real skirmish with a wolf, a panther, -or even a tiger, would have been less distasteful -to the English officer than soothing the midnight -fancies of the dismayed household, or escaping from -the unwelcome attentions of Kathleen's pet lizard, -which had left its favourite retreat behind the -pictures in the dining-room for a midnight stroll in the -veranda.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="away-to-the-hills"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VI.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics large">AWAY TO THE HILLS.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Can you ever love me again, mamma?" asked -Kathleen when Mrs. Desborough left the -tent on the lawn for the first time, whilst the ayah -took her place by baby Horace, who was slowly but -surely recovering.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For three whole days, whilst Kathleen was left to -herself, she had never ceased crying. The servants -found her continually by the window of the -bathroom through which the wolf had entered, leaning -her burning head against one of the huge red -pitchers which contained the supply of water for the -day's use. Let no one say cold water, for there -was nothing cold to be found anywhere. The bath -towels were as hot to the touch as if they had been -hanging in front of a blazing fire. The air was thick -with tawny dust. The oppression was frightful. -The excessive dryness made every breath feel like -the blast of a furnace. Insect wings began to drop -off all over the rooms, and were wafted into drifts by -the waving fans from the ceiling, and their wretched -little owners, who had lost them, were wriggling -about the floor. The thousands of poor white ants -had already done so much mischief that no one had -any pity left for their forlorn condition. The bhisti, -the coolie who does housemaid's work, came and -swept them away. Wasps, crickets, and enormous -horned spiders abounded, but were worse in the night -than the day. Not one of the numerous families of -birds which made their homes in the veranda would -sing a note.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sailor lay at his young mistress's feet, and followed -her everywhere with a pertinacity that said very -plainly, "She is all that is left to me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The ayah had done her utmost to divert the child. -Her dolls and playthings strewed the veranda.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bene Madho brought her cakes and sweetmeats -when he returned from the bazaar, which he visited -daily. Four or five in the morning is the hour for -marketing in India, and therefore the busiest time in -all the day. He virtually kept his mistress's purse, -and bought everything she wanted. His purchases -that morning were numerous, for the preparations for -the removal to the hills were hurried on by -Mr. Desborough. He wanted to take Kathleen away, for -in her great sorrow she would not eat or speak, and -was always slipping off unseen, even from him. -Children in India who are left to the black servants -so often grow troublesome.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"See that she eats; mind and send her to sleep," -he charged the ayah. But the ayah told him in her -despair Kathleen would do neither.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The gentle touch of her mother's hand, and the -fond, sad kiss on her parching lips, at last lifted the -lead-like load which to Kathleen seemed breaking her -heart, and she whispered tearfully, "Can you ever -love me again, mamma?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Love you, my darling!" repeated Mrs. Desborough, -in surprise at such a question. "Mamma must love -her little daughter more than ever now, for she may -soon have no one else to love."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no, mamma, you do not know. I let the -wolf in," lamented Kathleen under her breath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The wolf!" exclaimed Mrs. Desborough. "My -child, the wolf that killed dear little Carly!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It did not kill him, mamma!" cried Kathleen -vehemently. "The stranger boy said so. O mamma, -could not God, who took care of Daniel in the lions' -den, take care of our Carly in the wolf's mouth?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The bhisti, who was coming in with his water-skin -to fill up the great red pitchers against which Kathleen -was leaning, ran to his mistress as she sank on the -edge of the bath, overcome with the thoughts which -Kathleen's wild words had suggested. It was the -first hint which had reached her that there was any -uncertainty about her poor little child's fate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She could not in her motherly love take away from -Kathleen the hope that Carly was still alive, the poor -little sister's distress of mind was so great. But she -saw Mr. Desborough's strong motive for hurrying them -off to the hills. If the wolf which had seized one -child was still prowling about the place, it might -seize another in some unguarded moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let us take them away to-night," she said to him; -and the effort to get ready, which had appeared so -overwhelming when he proposed it, seemed now as -nothing compared to the fear of the wolf's return. -Beds were packed up. But beds in India are a simple -affair. A thick quilted cotton </span><em class="italics">resais</em><span>, as they call it, -serves for sheets, blanket, and mattress all in one. -A supply of pillows is all that is necessary; bolsters -are unused in India. They must also take calico for -punkahs, and plenty of palm-leaf matting, which is so -cheap it can be used for anything. Bene Madho had -bought abundance of all these things, which the -servants were packing in huge bundles, to be carried on -poles between men's shoulders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How they all worked throughout the day, despite -the heat, and Mr. Desborough harder than anybody! -An adventurous kite carried off a fork from the -dinner-table, and a monkey sprang down from the roof -of the veranda and snapped up Kathleen's doll, which -it carried to the tallest tamarind tree in the garden. -There it sat on one of the topmost branches, cuddling -the doll in its olive-green paws, as if it were a great -treasure. Kathleen did not mind it much. The -gardener assured her he should find it, as he had found -the fork, dropped among the flowers; and then it -seemed so easy to Kathleen to think Carly might be -found in the same sort of way. She never lost the -hope which Oliver's words had put into her heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But to hear her say so was an added grief to Mr. Desborough.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the evening, when they were dressed for the -journey, papa took her on his knee and told her not -to talk about the wolves to mamma any more. Then -he bade her remember no one must believe all the -servants were saying, for they were idolaters. They -thought that monkeys were better than men, and -that some of them were sacred, and they really -worshipped them. They did not know any better. No -one could be sure whether the tales they told about -the wolves were true or not, so he wished her not to -repeat them; it would frighten Horace.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yes, Horace was better—going with them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There he is," said papa, pointing to the ayah, who -was carrying him up and down the veranda, before -the windows of the drawing-room where they were -talking. Away flew Kathleen, holding out her arms -to take him, and covering him with kisses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She will soon be herself again, with change of -scene, and Horace for a playfellow," Mr. Desborough -continued, turning to his wife. "Thank God, my -dear, if the one child has been taken from us, the -other is left."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By the close of that busy day everything was ready -for departure. The long procession passed through -the gates of the compound just as the glorious sun -was sinking in its bed of ebony and gold; for deep -black bars of cloud were crossing the flood of light -which covered the western sky.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Desborough's horse was prancing in its impatience, -while the coolies harnessed themselves to the -curtained dandies. There was one for Mrs. Desborough, -with Horace on her lap, and another for the ayah and -Kathleen, so that the children could sleep away the -greater part of the journey. Until the heaving of -burdens and the buckling of straps were concluded, -the ayah amused Kathleen by pointing to the setting -sun, and gravely assuring her there were twelve suns, -brothers, who shone by turns. This one was going -away, and his elder brother, who was so strong he -could kill a man, would come in his place. The ayah -was very glad they would all be safe on the hills -before the strongest of all the twelve took his turn. -The younger brothers were much weaker; the youngest -of all was so weak he could hardly melt the snow -that fell on the mountains.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Kathleen thought that this must be one of the tales -papa referred to.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The syce, who ran by the horse's head with a -fly-flapper in his hand, was shouting to it to be quiet -until the sahib was ready to mount. "O son of a -pig!" he was crying, "O faithless, perverse one! have -ye never learned to be still?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Away they all went at last, the bearers keeping -time with a long, monotonous, grunting sort of cry, -to which the horses were too well accustomed to be -frightened. They soon left the highroad, going at -the rate of four miles an hour, by narrow paths, too -narrow for any cart or carriage. Mounting wave -after wave of hill, higher and higher, sometimes -winding by the edge of a precipice, or climbing the steep -side of a giant cliff, then almost tumbling down some -mountain valley, on, on they went, with a slow and -even swing, whilst the coolies laughed and chatted as -if they were almost enjoying the heavy burdens which -English arms could never have lifted. Up and up -once more, as the moon shone forth with its silver -radiance, bathing the stately forest trees with its soft, -clear light, and making the dark shadows which rested -on the deep ravines all the blacker by contrast. They -were passing the two-storied stone-built castle of a -mountain chief, perched like a gigantic bird's nest on -the verge of a tree-crowned height. A bright and -gurgling mountain stream was dashing and foaming -by its side as it leaped from height to height. The -travellers were sprinkled with its flashing spray as -they crossed the edge of the torrent, little dreaming -that news of Carl would await them there on their -return. But now the scream of the night-owls, and -the flap of the vultures' wings, and the ever-increasing -cries of the jackals, echoed all around.</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>"But the darkest hour of all the night,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span>Is that which brings us day."</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Oh, if Mr. and Mrs. Desborough could have understood -the silent lesson that midnight journey might -have taught them, it would have soothed their -heartache. They could see no ending to their night of -sorrow; they scarcely thought the soothing touch of -time would ever dull the sharpness of their grief. -But every night does end.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The first pale gleam of the coming day showed -Kathleen the sloping roof of a white-walled bungalow, -peeping amid a forest of pine trees high up overhead. -Should they ever reach it? The flowers which covered -those steep hillsides began to open their petals and -drink in the drop of dew that was falling for each -and all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Racy woke up with laughing eyes and outstretched -hands, clamouring for the bright, many-coloured dahlias -which grew by thousands in their path.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The good-natured coolies stopped to gather them -by handfuls, to Racy's infinite delight. The pleasure -of pulling them to pieces and pelting the black -shoulders of their bearers with them, found vent in -little squeals of merriment that brought the first faint -ghost of a smile to his mother's lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With the daybreak came many changes. Flocks of -sheep and goats met them in the narrow path, making -the crossing doubly dangerous. Some asses laden with -grain were on their way to the Rana's castle, and their -drivers drew aside to make their salaam to the English -travellers, and exchange greetings with the coolie -wallahs, and carry the news to the Rana's castle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A most obstreperous cawing from hundreds of -cunning-looking crows arose from the forest, whilst a -regular chorus of wild laughter echoed through the -darkest ravines. It was the morning song of the -black-faced thrushes that congregate in unimaginable -multitudes in these hidden solitudes. But sweeter -than all was the lengthened flute-like note of the -black-headed oriole.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly the path changed. They were going -downhill beneath magnificent trees, yews and oaks -rising from an undergrowth of creepers and roses, -checkered with multitudinous flowers that were -unknown to Kathleen and her mother. On they went, -swinging to the bottom of the valley, through whole -fields covered with pale-blue foxglove, over which -myriads of bees were flitting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Horace began to mimic the cry of the black partridges -which abounded. "Tie-tara! tie-tara!" rang on -every side, as the footsteps of the coolies disturbed -them in their lowly nests. One more toilsome hill, -and then the coolies paused on a small plateau on the -verge of the dark pine wood. Before them stood the -pleasant bungalow, with its hospitable doors wide open -to receive the travellers. Its white-washed rooms -looked airy and clean. A few native servants who -belonged to the place hurried out to welcome them; -and Kathleen, who was leaning eagerly forward, could -see the graceful figure of a Hindu woman making -cakes, which she flattened between her hands with -astonishing celerity, and flung into a brass pan which -stood near her over a quaint-looking brazier. The -dandies were set down, and Mr. Desborough came to -lift his wife out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Too much cover for snakes," he said, as he cast a -sharp eye at the thick, tall grass spreading from the -steps of the veranda to the very edge of the precipice. -The half-made garden was more indebted to nature -than art; but that only heightened the peculiar charm -that overspread the place. Here and there the great -bauhinia creeper wreathed itself into delightful bowers -above the moss-covered stem of a fallen pine. Its -strong tendrils, like furzy brown horns, caught the -overarching boughs of the tallest trees and bound -them in leafy fetters. Proud peacocks strutted about -at will. A stately old stork seemed untiring in its -endeavours to find the snake Mr. Desborough dreaded -to discover. But, above all, the fragrant breezes from -the vast pine forest seemed an earnest of returning -health.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-rana-s-sons"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics large">THE RANA'S SONS.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The first thing which attracted Kathleen's -attention, when her father lifted her out of her -swinging carriage, was the sight of a Thibetan woman -milking the cows. She was dressed in dirty rags, -with a torn blanket thrown over her head. But -round her neck she wore three strings of beads, so -quaint and curious Kathleen could do nothing but -look at them. The beads were as big as hazel-nuts. -One row was of coral and turkois; in another the -beads were of a greenish hue, spotted all over like -thrushes' eggs; the third was coral, with silver tags -between. So the ayah took her to beg a cup of milk, -whilst the breakfast was preparing. They made her -a cup with a leaf and a thorn; and as the -queer-looking milkmaid twisted it into proper shape round -her slender fingers, she noticed the child's red eyes -and colourless cheeks and heard the story of the -lost brother. "O children of pigs!" she exclaimed. -"To think a wolf in May would eat him up! No, -no. There has been many a child brought up by -the wolves, as I've heard tell. Perhaps it was its -grandfather; who knows? It would not hurt it -if it were."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She caught up Kathleen in her arms, and carried -her to the edge of the cliff, pointing downwards to the -tops of the mighty trees growing in the dark ravines -between the hills they had been crossing—hills below -hills, stretching away beneath their feet, so grand and -vast and wild. The gray mud walls of the little -Hindu village looked like an ant-hill in their midst. -Kathleen felt dimly how the timid, gentle, imaginative -Hindu men and women, who have lived all their -lives within reach of the formidable beasts that range -at will through those forest-glades, grow so afraid -that their fear almost changes to reverence. They -say they are all God's creatures, mightier and stronger -than themselves. They dare not hurt them for the -world; and they think when they die they shall be -changed into them. They mix their fancies with all -they see and hear, as her father had told her; but yet -she could not help listening when the weird-looking -milkmaid entreated her not to cry any more, but to -see the glorious places where the wild wolves slept in -the sunlight, and to think her little brother was there -among them. Oh no; she did not believe he would -want to come back. He would grow into a wolf, and -be happy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Kathleen felt frightened, for she saw that the ayah -believed her. Then the Thibetan unloosed the -wonderful beads from her neck and let Kathleen examine -them. They were heirlooms which had been handed -down for many generations. The coral and turkois -had been worn by her great-grandmother; the coral -with the silver tags came from her father's people. -She always wore them; they were safer round her -neck than anywhere. The ayah agreed with her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Kathleen carried her leafy cup indoors, to show to -her mother. A hasty breakfast was preparing—fowl -and eggs, but no bread anywhere, only chupatties, the -thin round cakes which the woman outside was -making when they arrived. They very much resembled -a dry crisp pancake. The fresh hill air gave the -children an appetite, and they ate heartily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Papa," whispered Kathleen, "may I talk about the -wolves to you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Better not, darling," was the quick reply; "father -is too busy to talk now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Away went Mr. Desborough, ordering and arranging -everything to insure the comfort of his wife and -children; for he knew that he must soon leave them -to enjoy their three months' gipsying among the hills. -He trusted that picking flowers and chasing butterflies -would soon occupy all his little fairy's thoughts, if he -could but keep her from dwelling on the terrible -remembrance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Horace was soon fast asleep on his mother's lap, -and Kathleen's eyes were blinking.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were chairs and tables and charpoys in the -bungalow, kept ready for the use of visitors. So as -soon as breakfast was over, the ayah put Kathleen and -Horace to bed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The rooms were all on one floor, and as every door -stood wide open, they were not out of Mrs. Desborough's -sight a single moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The charpoy, or Indian bedstead, is only a wooden -frame with cross-bars of webbing, and on this a mat -or a resais is laid. The ayah fetched the pillows Bene -Madho was unpacking, and all was ready. Going to -bed is such a simple affair in India, for nobody -undresses as we do in England. Dressing and undressing -belong to the bath. The ayah covered the children -with a large mosquito-net, and then flung herself on -the matting beside them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A few hours' refreshing sleep made them feel like -different beings. But they were still very tired, and -were quite content to sit together on the steps of -the veranda, watching the mowers cutting the grass. -It was happiness to Kathleen to have her little brother -once again, and she devoted herself to the delightful -task of making Racy laugh. There was a bird a little -bigger than an English starling, with shining wings of -copper colour, violet and blue, which hopped about their -feet, and then flew off to perch on the cow's back, and -good-naturedly catch the insects which were teasing it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently they saw a curious procession coming up -the hill—two Hindu boys riding on donkeys, with -syces running beside them carrying scarlet umbrellas -over their heads, ornamented with deep gold-fringes. -Behind them rode their tutor, and after him four -native Hindus, carrying trays on their heads, -tastefully piled with fruit and vegetables and flowers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Early visitors," exclaimed Mr. Desborough, who -was walking about directing the mowers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The boys proved to be the two young sons of the -Rana of Nataban, or "the brook of the forest," whose -castle they had passed by the way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look! look!" cried Racy, clapping his little -hands, and making such a noise that all the strangers -turned their heads and regarded him. The two -young chieftains alighted, and advanced to Mr. Desborough, -who held out his hand to the eldest, English -fashion. The boy took it between both his own and -dropped into it something which felt very like a -little ball of cobwebs, but was in reality a tiny bag of -musk. He then directed his servants to place their -trays on the ground at Mr. Desborough's feet. They -were a present from his father, the Rana. They -were bright-eyed, intelligent boys, but as delicate and -graceful as girls. Their tutor was a clever young -Brahmin, who had been educated in the government -schools, and longed, above all things, to visit London. -He could speak English, and was teaching it to his -pupils.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was quite a relief; and when the formal -greetings were well through, and the boys were seated -one on each side of Mr. Desborough, he sent Kathleen -to fetch the jar of English sweets which Bene Madho -had bought for her consolation. It was just unpacked, -and stood on the table near the window by which -they were seated, and he perceived the large, dreamy -eyes of his youngest visitor rested upon it very -curiously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whilst she was gone for it, Horace came and stood -between his father's knees. He certainly mistook the -two young ranas for big dolls, as they sat as stately -and grave as they could in their saffron-coloured -dresses, embroidered belts, and heavy silver bracelets. -Horace, with his curly flaxen hair and blue eyes, was -equally interesting to them, and the drum with which -he was playing still more so.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old trouble had returned to Kathleen's eyes as -she ran in for her jar of peppermint lozenges. She -was thinking of the Thibetan woman and all she had -said. "Oh, if Carl were alive in the jungle, could -not they find him and bring him home?" Her little -heart was full. She longed to pour it out to her -mother, but her father's words restrained her. -Mrs. Desborough looked so ill, so sadly worn, and kissed -her so fondly, Kathleen could only venture to entreat -her to come and look at the strange milkmaid, with -her wonderful necklaces. She was hoping the Thibetan -would repeat to her the strange things she had -said about Carl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Desborough promised at once; she had not -the heart to refuse her darlings anything, for fear -they, too, should be stolen from her. She followed -her little daughter into the veranda, putting on her -gloves. They were black. The youngest boy, Aglar, -had never seen a lady's glove before. He watched -her intently, as if he thought her hands had suddenly -changed colour. He spoke to his tutor in his soft, -musical Indi; who gravely informed her the young -Rana had such a longing to feel the lady's hand, -might he be permitted to touch it?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Desborough smiled, and held hers out to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Aglar rose, made his salaam, and softly felt her -fingers all over. It seemed to afford him infinite -delight. So, to amuse him, Mrs. Desborough took off -her gloves and put them on again. The long row of -buttons pleased him exceedingly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Give them to him," suggested Mr. Desborough, -who was wondering how he could return the Rana's -present, having nothing with him but just the -necessary things his family required.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The transfer was made; the mystery of the buttons -made easy, too, by the addition of a tiny button-hook. -The little fellow was in ecstasies. Not so -Horace, who set up a clamour to have his mother's -gloves back, which amused them all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Desborough was talking to the elder, whose -name was Rattam, about his lessons. He was fond -of reading, had made some way in English and -Persian, and was much gratified with the gift of an -English book on botany, which Mr. Desborough had -brought with him, hoping to interest his wife in the -lovely plants and flowers she was sure to find among -the hills. It was very doubtful whether the new -owner could possibly understand it, but he liked to -examine the plates.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Desborough thought they were getting on, -when Horace renewed his clamour, pointing at Aglar, -and declaring, "He is nobody but a native. He shan't -have my mamma's gloves. He shan't!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Desborough grew pink with annoyance, for -she knew their young visitors would be highly -offended, if they really understood English well enough -to know what the child was saying. In vain his -father frowned. He would not be quieted. Kathleen -slipped round and filled his mouth with her -peppermint, to stop his tongue.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We are all spoiling him as fast as we can," -muttered her father, with a bitter sigh, as he sent her -across to Rattam, who regarded Horace with pure -amazement. No Hindu child is ever permitted to be -rough or rude. Kathleen shyly offered Rattam her -jar, trying to make up for Racy's naughtiness by -behaving as prettily as she could. Rattam examined -her peppermints curiously, and then drew back, afraid -to touch one, for it might be degrading to himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He dare not taste one, he said, for fear of losing -caste by eating anything which might be improper -for a Brahmin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This horror of losing caste—that is, of forfeiting -his position as a Brahmin, one of the highest class -of Hindus, to whom all the others look up with -reverence—is the bugbear of a Hindu gentleman's life, and -Rattam was fully impressed with its importance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet he was gratified; and although no persuasion -could induce him to touch the peppermint, he -expressed his thanks with the air of a prince, adding, -"You must permit me to send you a bird of my own -training, to be my vakeel" ("Ambassador," interpreted -the tutor), "and remind you of me," Rattam went on; -"and, I assure you, he is a very amusing fellow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He spoke so carefully and so correctly, it made -Kathleen think he had learned his English sentences -ready before he came. She wished she could ask her -ayah how she ought to answer him in Indi; but that -was out of the question. If he understood not her -reply, he knew by her shy little smile she was pleased.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is a hill-mina from Nepaul, with a remarkably -good, rich voice—" He looked to his tutor, perplexed -for the next word. It was not forthcoming.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Does the little beebee understand Persian?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Desborough shook his head, relieved to find -his guest's English was not yet perfect.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Persian is our French," said the tutor, making a -sign to Aglar, who had not yet finished his -examination of Mrs. Desborough's hands; but when he caught -his tutor's eye, he dropped down on the ground by -her side, sitting cross-legged, as still and stately as a -little statue. He never raised his eyes or uttered a -single word until a second sign gave him permission.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the ayah appeared with the children's box of -playthings, the two young visitors forgot themselves -and their grand manners in the wonders of Kathleen's -magic top, and behaved with an easy grace which was -natural to them, and much more prepossessing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let Aglar take it away with him, Kathy," -whispered Mr. Desborough; "I will buy you another."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mamma had slipped out during the exhibition of -the playthings to consult with Bene Madho about -the tiffen. She thought he might know better than -she did what such fastidious young princes would -condescend to eat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He told her they never touched anything but -butter, sweetmeats, and vegetables or fruit. Butter -Mrs. Desborough could procure in plenty, but the -sweetmeats ran wofully short. Salad and syllabub, with -some of their own beautiful fruit, had to suffice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The amount of butter the little princes consumed -was something astonishing. No wonder Rattam was -so fat. Aglar's hoarse cough distressed Mrs. Desborough. -She always carried a well-filled medicine-chest -about with her, for the sake of her own delicate -children. So she found him some cough-drops, and -a porous plaster for the chest, to lay on the empty -trays her husband was trying to refill.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Kathleen relinquished a great many of her toys -to please their dusky visitors. Rattam liked -everything in pairs. He was highly delighted with her -doll's tea-cups, as he said "there were three pairs." But -he returned her the teapot. One of a sort -looked mean in his eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When tiffen was over, their interesting neighbours -rose to depart, with the demure gravity of old men.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-invitation"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VIII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics large">THE INVITATION.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The night before Mr. Desborough's return to -Noak-holly, he called Kathleen to him as he -sat dreamily watching the glorious landscape as if he -saw it not.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can my darling sing to me?" he said, softly -humming the first notes of a tune she had heard him sing -in the old times, when Kathleen was "her daddy's ae -bairn," and the cot stood empty.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He put his arm round her waist, and taught her as -he used to do, beating time with his other hand.</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>"Go bury thy sorrow, the world has its share,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Go bury it deeply, go hide it with care."</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>She turned and looked in his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go on," he said, in the quiet, decided tone -Kathleen always obeyed.</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>"Go think of it calmly, when curtained by night;</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Go tell it to Jesus, and all will be right."</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>She sang it after him, drawing a little closer, for -her father was not often like this, until they came to -the last verse—</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>"Hearts growing a-weary with heavier woe,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Now droop 'mid the darkness—go, comfort them, go!</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Go bury thy sorrows, let others be blest:</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Go give them the sunshine, tell Jesus the rest."</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Is my little girl too young to understand what -that means?" he asked, stroking her hair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I do understand, papa," she answered thoughtfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your mother's sorrow is heavier than ours," he -went on, "just because she was Carly's mother; and -Racy is pining for his twin-brother, just because he -was his twin. It is that which makes him so techy -and troublesome. Will my Kathleen try to comfort -them when I am gone?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Instead of the promise he expected there came a -rush of tears, so hot and bitter he was taken aback.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is the matter, my love?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The dreadful misery to think I let the wolf in!" -she sobbed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We will bury all that," he answered. "It will -not bring sunshine to mamma to see you crying. -Think! what ought you to be to poor mamma?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Carly and Kathleen, too," she murmured. "But -I can't undo it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His arm went round her very closely; it answered -her better than words. No fear of Kathleen talking -to poor mamma about the wolves after that night. -A new object was before her—how to give others -the sunshine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her father had scarcely left them when Rattam's -messenger arrived with the promised bird, and an -invitation to the Sahib Desborough to visit the Rana -at his castle. Aglar's mother, the Ranee, added her -entreaties that the beebee, who had given her youngest -son the little breastplate against the weather (which -was endued with such a wonderful charm it had hushed -the noise in his breast and given him the vivacity -of a panther) would let a grateful mother look upon -her face and beg a similar charm for her other son. -"The women of your people, sahib," said the letter, -which was evidently written by the tutor, "can come -and go. It would demean ours to descend the stair -of their own home; but they are dying to see more of -the wonderful magic the beebee Desborough possesses."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Rana's peon or foot-soldier, who had brought -the letter, stood watching Mrs. Desborough as if she -were some superior being. He had shuffled off his -shoes as a mark of respect before he approached her, -and now stood before her salaaming at every interval -when she happened to raise her eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of course there were a few crows strutting about -the veranda, and little fretful Racy was afraid of -their sharp beaks. Kathleen was trying to tempt -them away by scattering crumbs. They were so -tame they soon ran after her to get them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"More magic," thought the peon, bowing himself to -the ground, as she came near to him to look at the -wonderful bird Rattam had sent her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was jet black, with a coat as glossy as satin, and -a lovely dark eye, full of fun and intelligence. Its -beak and claws were deep orange. It was looking -about very curiously, pricking its ear to every sound. -Kathleen drew her finger across the gilded wire of its -cage, and it called out in a rich, sweet voice—a -wonderfully rich voice, and yet an odd one—"Ram, Ram, -baher!" just as he had heard Rattam and Aglar call -to one another. The ayah told her it meant "God, -God, brother!" which is the Hindu way of speaking, -just as English boys would say, "Good-morning, -brother!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With her nurse and her bird talking Indi, Kathleen -thought she should soon learn enough to understand -Rattam if he came again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Desborough wrote her reply, and promised to -visit the Ranee when her husband returned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Little mischievous Horace was fitting on the peon's -slippers, and quite ready to dispute possession with -the "man in petticoats," as he called the peon. -Kathleen and the ayah pursued him half round the veranda. -They would not have got the slippers away then -without a roar, if Kathleen's wonderful bird had not -begun to make a creaking sound, like a rusty hinge, -which it imitated exactly, and then as suddenly -changed its note to the cheerful crowing of a cock. -This diverted Horace amazingly. The peon recovered -his slippers, put up his umbrella, and departed with -the English beebee's answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But there was many a long day to wait before the -visit could be paid. Mrs. Desborough was glad, for -she had no heart for visits, although she thought it -only right to go, as no one but a lady is scarcely ever -permitted to enter the homes of the higher classes of -Hindus. In the meanwhile the invigorating air of -the hills was restoring the children to health and -spirits. Mrs. Desborough hoped Horace would forget -some of his provoking sayings, which he had caught -up on the journey.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Thibetan milkmaid had gone away to her own -people before Kathleen could persuade her mother to -go and talk to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Kathleen would describe the dark-skinned -woman, with her dirty rags and glittering beads, so -earnestly and so frequently, that her mother began to -suspect there was something more she had not told -her. "Well?" she would say questioningly; and -then Kathleen would stop short, remembering her -father's words.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Desborough asked the ayah what the Thibetan -had said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing, nothing," was the quick reply. "We -only tried to comfort the little beebee, and stop her -tears, that fell like evening rain."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The ayah was frightened, for her mistress turned -pale and faint at the most distant allusion to her -dreadful loss. So she led the children away, and -filled their pinafores with rice to feed the fishes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whilst Horace was throwing it by handfuls into -the basin of the fountain, which was soon a moving -mass of heads and tails, the ayah drew Kathleen away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look at the mem-sahib," she whispered, so that -Horace should not hear. "It is the cry for the lost -one shut in her heart that hurts. Don't wake it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Kathleen hung her head; for the first time in her -life it seemed wrong to speak out all her thoughts to -her mother. But the hope still lived on—Carl would -some day be found. It helped her to fulfil her father's -parting charge, and try to give the sunshine to Horace -and her mother. The dry heat of May gave place at -last to the sultry, oppressive damp of the rainy season; -and Mrs. Desborough began to long for home.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="oliver-and-his-uncle"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IX.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics large">OLIVER AND HIS UNCLE.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>When Mr. Desborough returned to fetch his -wife and children, he found his little fairy -half a head taller and twice as strong as at the -never-to-be-forgotten singing-lesson the night before he left.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well! and what have you been doing?" he asked, -when he found himself seated once more, with a child -on each knee. "Setting traps to catch the sunbeams -to give away, eh, my precious?" he continued.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I think Racy got them all," Kathleen answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Via</em><span> Racy is one of the best of roads to reach -mamma," smiled her father, as he stroked her hair -fondly, and turned to his boy, who was clamorously -demanding all his attention.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A game at horses round the white-washed sitting-room -assured Mr. Desborough that Kathleen's traps -had not been set in vain. Horace was riding -triumphant on his father's shoulder, shouting at him -after the fashion of the native drivers, in high glee, -when the card of an English gentleman was brought -in by Bene Madho.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Who should it be but the deputy-judge, who was -going on circuit, and had just arrived to hold a "bed -of justice," as the natives say, in the neighbourhood of -Nataban.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well set to work, Desborough!" he exclaimed. -"Have I followed my bit of pasteboard too quickly?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no," retorted Mr. Desborough warmly. "We -are going away to-morrow. There are rooms enough -here to accommodate all for a night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My fellows can sleep anywhere," continued the -deputy, chucking Kathleen under her chin, and -pointing to his train of servants, who were chattering -without. "I and my nephew will do our best not -to interfere with the ladies' comfort. Only say the -word, and we will make quick work here, and hurry -forward to our next station."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oliver!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Desborough scrambled to his feet, and with -Horace still tugging at his watch-chain, held out his -hand to the boy without recognizing him; but -Kathleen knew him again in a moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Desborough has forgotten you, my boy," -whispered the deputy. "Do not refresh his memory; -it will only revive a painful recollection."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver nodded; and they all went in together to -congratulate Mrs. Desborough on the improvement in -her children.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When old neighbours meet there is no lack of -conversation. The gentlemen sat long over the dinner, -discussing the recent rains, the present attitude of -Russia, and the success of the government schools for -Hindu boys, in which the deputy was greatly interested. -Kathleen sat beside her father, forgetting to -eat. At the first movement she glided round to her -mother's chair with a breathless request.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"May I show my bird to Oliver? and may we -go for a walk—a long walk?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly, my love, if he wishes," answered -Mrs. Desborough.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Kathleen tripped on. A gentle pull at Oliver's -sleeve made him look round. He was too -good-natured to decline the shy invitation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Life was very free and easy at the little hill-station. -The whitewashed bungalow was neither inn nor -lodging-house, but something between. When one -party went away, there was usually another -waiting to take their place, so that the servants who -were stationary there were not disconcerted by the -deputy's arrival. They were laughing and singing as -they hurried about, contriving to make an unusual -hubbub, as a sort of tribute to the dignity of the -Stunt Sahib, as they called the deputy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some of the newly-arrived were seated in groups, -cross-legged, on the grass, smoking a friendly pipe -with their old acquaintances of a previous year. -Oliver would willingly have lingered to watch them, -so he divided his attentions between them and -Kathleen's wonderful bird.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was crying so like a child as they drew near its -cage, Oliver was looking about for some squalling -baby among the dusky smokers. Then it changed -its note, and imitated the soft musical tinkle of the -temple bell, where Rattam and Aglar went to see the -sacrifices to their idol-gods. Oliver was enchanted. -"It beats the parrots hollow!" he exclaimed. "It is -something like a bird."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have not much left to give away," said Kathleen, -thinking a little regretfully of all the toys she had -bestowed upon the young princes; "but I'll give you -my beauty mina, if you will take me for a walk, a -very long walk."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You!" he repeated in astonishment. "Which -way do you want to go?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She tripped down the veranda steps, and pointing -to the wilder part of the ground, ran eagerly forward, -looking back every now and then to see if Oliver -would follow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The ground around the house was partially gardened, -but the further they went the wilder it grew. -All path was lost. Arrowroot and ginger plants -sprang up spontaneously. By one of their tall green -sheaths, with its droop of snow-white bells like a -magnified Solomon's seal, Kathleen paused panting -until her companion overtook her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Off she started again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is it a jolly game at hare-and-hounds or -follow-my-leader that you are starting?" asked Oliver. -"You are not quite right for either. We boys never -played just so. In the first place, you should start -fair."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is not play at all," answered Kathleen, slipping -her hand into his and looking up beseechingly. "You -do not mind, do you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not a bit," he retorted, holding back a mimosa -bush to let her pass. She had led him on to a -dangerous spot, where the ground sloped steeply down to -the bottom of a ravine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dark shadows of bushes and plants unknown to -him obscured its depths. A sound of gurgling water -met his ear, but the gloom was so profound he could -distinguish nothing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is not that a place where the wild beasts sleep? -Now will you take me as far down as you can?" -asked Kathleen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," answered Oliver bluntly—"no, indeed; you -must be crazy!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She drew her hand away, and leaning over the -edge of the precipice, called, "Carl, Carl, are you -there?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver caught hold of her dress and pulled her -back. "You absurd little creature, you'll slip and fall -if you do so!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, never mind that. If I could make him hear -me—if I could but make him hear!" she wailed. -"But I am not to talk about the wolves—I'm not to -talk."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, you may to me; you may say anything you -like to me," interposed Oliver, resolutely turning her -round and walking back towards the house.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you speak the truth?" asked Kathleen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I tell you what, young lady: I don't admire -your ways one bit. If you had only been a boy, I'd -have bowled you over for that in less than a minute. -What do you mean by asking me such a question?" -he retorted in hot indignation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I may believe what you tell me, and you -said he was alive in the jungle!" she exclaimed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver gave a long-drawn "Oh!" adding slowly, in -a considerate tone, "Yes, I did. I said so because I -thought so."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And the milkmaid thought so!" she cried. Then -for the fiftieth time she pictured the dusky face, with -its rags and beads, and repeated the soft Indian -words until the white walls of the bungalow were -once again in sight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now we must not talk any more," she exclaimed, -"for fear mamma should hear us. There she is!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver looked up, and saw Mrs. Desborough seated -on one of the fallen trees, talking to his uncle. The -ayah was taking Horace for his evening walk. Being -new to Indian life, Oliver stared in astonishment at -the strange way in which she carried the child. -Instead of taking him in her arms, as an English nurse -would do, she had a nice little soft saddle strapped -round her waist, on which he was riding. Her arm -was round him, to keep him from falling, whilst his -own clasped her neck, and his little feet were kicking -her back and front. For Horace was as restless and -fidgety as a young elephant, which every mahout -(elephant-driver) knows never is at peace a single -moment. It is always shaking its flapping ears, or -switching its tail, twisting and untwisting its trunk, -or stamping with one or other of its big feet. But -the ayah was patience itself in her untiring devotion -to her white baby.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look at that nephew of mine," laughed the deputy. -"I shall have to start him off again to England, for -a couple of years at the East India College, before I -put him into harness. But Iffley has taken to him -wonderfully. Now his sister—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Bona's perfections were cut short by a squall -from Horace. The Rana's peon was approaching with -renewed invitations to the whole party.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We must go," said the deputy, who was bent upon -cultivating friendly intercourse between himself and -his dusky neighbours.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had won their respect by his uprightness—perhaps -even their esteem; "but to get a step beyond -that beats me," he declared. "You must know as -well as I do, Desborough, how these Orientals hedge -in their private life with their ceremonies and -formalities, and keep us all at a distance. Here I have -been coaxing them out of their shyness and reserve -for years. What way have I made? One-half the -pains I've taken would have brought these monkeys -from the woods around me as tame and affectionate as -the kitten in your veranda at home. Now you ladies -have a chance. The door of the zenana opens to you. -That is why I want my niece. I want her to take her -share in the Englishwoman's mission to her dusky -sisters. You will go with us, Mrs. Desborough?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," she replied. "I had intended to do so; -but," she added, turning to Mr. Desborough, "we -must take the children with us." The fact was, she -dare not leave them behind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No objection to that, as far as I can see," -returned the deputy; and so it was settled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As Oliver was falling asleep that night, he seemed -to hear nothing but the little sister's passionate cry, -"Carl, Carl, come back!" How she had clung to the -lingering hope his words had implanted! He almost -wished he had never said them. Did he and Bona -love each other like that? He saw nothing but the -fluttering of Kathleen's sash and the flapping of her -broad sun-hat as she rushed before him to the very -edge of the precipice. How she must have longed to -get there! and it was such a dangerous place. Oh the -innocence of the thought! The brave, faithful heart! -Yes, that was it. Oliver hated himself for having -spoken those misleading words. "But then I -believed it after what old Gobur had said."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He tossed and slept, and dreamed of Romulus and -Remus, and the old Roman fable of the she-wolf. -When he waked at last, the day was well begun, and -everybody around him was busy preparing for the -visit to the Rana's castle. He wished his -schoolbooks had not all been left behind him in another -hemisphere. There was no Roman history to be -found in the hill bungalow, or he would have -refreshed his memory about that old-world tale of the -founders of Rome. His uncle thought him unusually -moody as he mounted his little pony and rode after -him. It was a glorious morning. Mrs. Desborough's -bearers were chanting gaily. Mr. Desborough, who -rode behind her, turned his head to make some -remark upon the indigo crops to the deputy, who was -still descanting about "that fog-bank which always -rises between us and the people of the land, do what -we will."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver yawned, feeling quite sure beforehand he -should detest a fat boy who ate nothing but butter -and sugar, and wouldn't and couldn't run a race if it -were to save his life, whatever his colour might be. -He was thinking of Major Iffley's impatient interruptions, -when his uncle started his favourite topic before him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let the natives alone, St. Faine. They are the -most exclusive set on earth. It is all labour in vain, -I tell you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The road by which they reached the Rana's castle -was very picturesque, shaded here and there by grand -old forest trees and great clumps of waving bamboos. -The village houses were very low, and their peaked -thatched roofs covered with a climbing plant with -melon-like leaves. Clusters of tamarind trees secured -the necessary shade. Two men were ploughing in a -field, and three more were idly watching their work. -Several women were scouring their brass pans; at -their feet lay their babies, cooing or fretting. Some -graceful girls were drawing water at the village -well. There was a native musician with his sitar, -and a group of listeners round him, some smoking, -and others playing a native game with little bits of -wood.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They lifted up their eyes and saw the English -party approaching. The women snatched up their -infants and ducked under the mats, which serve for -doors to their huts, as if to be seen were to be killed. -The girls by the trickling water under the tamarind -trees muffled up their faces and waddled away as -fast as they could. To walk like a goose is a Hindu -girl's desire. The very children, intent upon the -manufacture of dust-pies, jumped up and hid -themselves; whilst the men started, gave a pull at their -clothes, pushed the sitar out of sight, threw away -their pipes, and stood in a row, bowing like so many -machines, humble, shy, and mute.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The deputy's benevolent face wore nothing but -smiles; but the poor creatures had received little but -cruelty from the hands of foreigners for so many -generations, they could hardly believe in a stranger's -kindness. The headman of the village had bustled -off to put on his company clothes, which he kept -very carefully for state occasions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked as if he had wrapped himself in a clean -sheet; all his dignity lay in his belt, which had -served his grandfather before him. However, he had -found his tongue, as the children say, and came to -meet the deputy with a string of compliments as -extravagant as they were meaningless. Just then the -long-drawn, quavering notes of some huge horns, -drawing nearer and nearer, announced the approach -of the Rana, who was coming to meet his visitors. -Presently they saw him sweeping down the castle -hill in his bullock-chariot, all brightness and gilding. -Four of his men were holding over his head a huge -scarlet umbrella with long glittering fringes; several -more were running by his side. A small band of -horsemen preceded this stately chariot, sounding their -big brass trumpets from time to time; and behind -it came a motley procession of his chief followers -and relations. In the midst of them Oliver detected -that fat boy he was so certain he must dislike.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-visit-to-the-rana-s-castle"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER X.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics large">A VISIT TO THE RANA'S CASTLE.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The deputy being the chief of the English -party, was pressed to take a seat in the -chariot by the Rana's side. Then the runners and -the riders turned their faces, and the long procession -wound its way up the castle hill. All the dogs -in the village collected to bark at the heels of the -departing horsemen, and bright little eyes peeped -round the corners to see them go. Then the girls -returned to their pitchers, and the men to their music -and play.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The strong and time-worn castle was all of stone, -with rich, deep balconies and oriel windows. The -carving of the stone screens which protected them -was as delicate as point lace. Behind those splendid -screens the ladies of the family were peeping as -furtively and shyly as the village children, and quite as -anxious to see without being seen. All Kathleen's -attention was taken up by the dear little gray -monkeys, who were playing at hide-and-seek with each -other through the beautiful tracery. Some noise -within sent them off with a scamper. Their leader -called them round him; and Kathleen soon saw them -busy as ever in the court below, turning over stones, -and hunting out beetles and scorpions, which they -caught by the tail. The biggest of them was about -the size of a bull-terrier; and their babies were the -dearest little sweets in the world.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was slow work defiling one by one across the -bridge which spanned the stream in front of the -castle. Mrs. Desborough and the children had entered -the large, untidy court some minutes before Mr. Desborough -and Oliver arrived; so they waited, looking -round them at the novel scene. In the centre of the -court there was a large group of horses picketed, -who seemed very much annoyed by the descent of -the small gray plagues from the balcony, who showed -no respect for stamping hoofs or kicking heels. All -round the court there were rows of straw-thatched -huts and sheds, where the servants lived, next door -to the animals in their charge. There were lynxes, -kept for hunting hares; and splendid spotted leopards, -tamed, and tied to strong posts, each with a leather -hood over its eyes, to keep it from springing -unawares. More than a hundred dogs of different -kinds were kennelled in their midst. The yelling -and the barking which arose on all sides so terrified -Mrs. Desborough, that she positively refused to get -out of her dandy or suffer Horace to be taken from -her arms, although he roared in concert with all his -might; so her bearers rested in front of the flight of -white steps leading to the porch of the castle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A group of servants had gathered round them—looking -very haughty in their clean white dresses -and turbans—who were announcing the arrival of -the guests with eager cries.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When Mr. Desborough's puggaree appeared beneath -the gateway arch, one of the peons stepped forward -with his mace in his hand to meet him; and behind -the peon, on the topmost step, stood the -guest-receivers of the Rana—two fat little old men, -dressed all in white—bowing low, and inviting him -to enter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But no; Mr. Desborough must first of all reassure -his terrified wife and pacify his screaming boy. -Oliver thought it only manly to follow his example, -and stepped up to the other dandy, expecting to find -Kathleen in a similar state. The ayah was leaning -forward, with her finger on her lips to enjoin -silence, and Kathleen was gazing breathlessly in her -face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hush!" she whispered, pointing to one of the -Rana's men, who stood staring at Horace, as -Mr. Desborough lifted him up, with a scared, startled -look, as if he had seen some marvellous prodigy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What was the fellow saying? The ayah knew, -and Kathleen more than guessed. She had been -learning Indi from her ayah ever since Rattam's visit. -She understood it better than Oliver; a great deal -better than her mother. She was trying to get out -of the dandy in her impatience.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me go! let me go!" she entreated. "I must -go to papa."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Desborough was looking round to see if she -were all right. He relinquished Horace to the ayah, -and gave his arm to his wife.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll take care of Kathleen," said Oliver, with the -air of a grandfather. But she tried to escape from -him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I must tell papa," she persisted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nonsense!" he urged; "you can't."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He led her up the steps resolutely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Which are the Ranee's apartments?" asked -Mr. Desborough of the servants.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They are in that direction looking east; but we -cannot point them out," was the deferential reply, -with a horrified look, as if to be guilty of such -rudeness as pointing out the window of a lady's room -would indeed have been unparalleled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But then they all entertained a private opinion -that these English sahibs were utterly incomprehensible, -and on some points downright lunatics.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Kathleen turned round, and pointing to the jogie, -who still stood staring after them, she whispered to -Oliver, "That is the man. He was looking at -Horace, and he said, 'I saw that child last night -come down the koond on a booraba'—that is a wolf, -you know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is it?" said Oliver, who did not happen to know -that booraba was Indi for "wolf." "Well," he -continued, "it is certain he did not see your brother -there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, not Horace," she cried, clasping her hands -passionately; "but could it—could it be Carl?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was forced to be silent now. They were -entering the Rana's hall of audience, a huge room, -thirty feet high, with a gallery at one end, and at the -other a much smaller, narrower room, with carved -marble arches and glittering walls.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here they saw the Rana himself, seated upon a -large, low sofa, with the deputy by his side; and -Aglar, as still and motionless as a lizard, was sitting -cross-legged at his feet. A few stout old gentlemen, -swathed in costly shawls, looked as if they were -propped up against the wall, on English chairs. They -had come to see the sahibs, and the Rana thought it -only complimentary to provide English seats when -English visitors were expected; but his uncles and -brothers seemed to find them singularly uncomfortable. -They balanced themselves on the edge of the -chairs, and threw their heads back with great -solemnity. But what to do with their arms seemed the -difficulty. One old gentleman stuck his against his -sides, and spread out all his fingers; another was -vainly trying to rest his hands on his knees without -leaning forward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Horace began to point at them and laugh, and -Oliver was nearly as bad, in spite of his uncle's frown.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beneath the marble arches there were long flights -of steps leading down to the gardens, which were -overlooked by the back of the zenana, or ladies' -rooms. The carefully-screened balconies looked like -one splendid mass of stone lace. In the centre of the -gardens there was an artificial lake, fed by the -mountain stream, where golden fish were leaping in -the sunlight, and stately swans were gliding. Around -its banks, and almost built out into the water, at -equal distances, there were white marble kiosks, or -arbours; and high above the stately trees and -luxurious wealth of flowers the jagged red cliffs were -frowning. Mrs. Desborough was lost in admiration -as she was pompously conducted down the snowy -steps, across the velvet grass, to a low door leading -to the Ranee's apartments, the ayah following with -Horace, riding on his little saddle, and Kathleen -shyly tripping by her side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The low door was unfastened, and they entered a -dark passage, with an earthen floor, leading to a long -staircase, which was very dirty. The contrast to the -hall of audience was so great, Mrs. Desborough -thought there was some mistake, when out they -stepped upon the cool and shadowy balcony. Little -dark heads, with snowy whiskers, came poking -through the interstices of the stone-work, to watch -the English children, and absurd-looking monkey -mothers tossed up their babies and jabbered unceasingly. -The folding-doors of the Ranee's sitting-room -stood wide open. Its Eastern loveliness was spoiled -by some smart-looking English tables and -looking-glasses, of which the Ranee was very proud. She -was seated upon a velvet cushion, with her little girls -by her side, and her servants standing round her. -The Hindu lady looked so stately and calm and stern, -as she surveyed her visitors with a fixed, cold stare, -Kathleen was almost afraid of her. Her long black -hair was twisted into a sort of coronet, fastened by a -silver buckle, and set with large silver bosses. Her -fixed and haughty eyes were dark with excessive -brightness. Her proud, curving lips and set white -teeth seemed as if they could scarcely permit the -word of welcome to pass between them. A little -girl, as beautiful as her mother, was leaning against -her, and on the other side an elder sister sat with her -arm round her mother's waist, embowered in shawls -and her own long, dark, waving curls. They were -still more fascinating children than their brothers. -All the force and fire of the family seemed to have -centred in its females. But the youngest girl hid her -face in her mother's lap, and the other only ventured -on a sidelong glance at the strangers—evidently -terrified at Horace, who was manfully kicking at his -ayah's waist. The sight of a splendid doll Mrs. Desborough -was unpacking drew the shy little Orientals -from their mother's side. The ayah was interpreter. -Whilst the ladies were admiring each other's children, -Kathleen took the doll on her lap, and showed the -little sisters how to dress and undress it. Then they -sent for their own dolls, and displayed the mystery of -their tinselled robes and gossamer veils. Here at -least was common ground. And perhaps those little -Hindus loved their dolls even more than Kathleen -did, for they had scarcely any other pleasure in their -dull life; for while their brothers were made so -much of by every one, nobody wanted them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The gentlemen remained in the hall of audience, -where the cup-filler and the hookah-filler were in -attendance. Oliver had the best of it; for although -he could do nothing but laugh at Rattam, in his -saffron-coloured satin dress, and flowered silk trousers, -and his turban hung round with tigers' teeth set in -gold, not to mention his bracelets and chains, he found -him a cleverer boy than himself. They went together -into the Rana's armoury; and whilst Rattam was -showing him swords of fabulous value, from the jewels in -their hilts, and helmets of the strangest shapes -imaginable, Oliver decided he was not half a duffer after all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were entering the room where the Rana kept -his clocks; for he had a perfect passion for clocks, and -had accumulated some dozens—French, Dutch, English, -and American, all ticking. Oliver thought this a bit -of a bore. "Couldn't we have a stroll out of doors?" -he asked. Rattam agreed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver gave a tug at his own hair. It was a habit -of his when he felt uncertain what to do. But the -momentary hesitation passed over. He turned to -Rattam and said, "Do you know that Mr. Desborough -lost a child a month or two ago? it was carried off by -a wolf."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah!" interrupted Rattam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One of your fellows was saying something about -a child in the jungle as we rode into your court. I -want to ask him what it was," continued Oliver. "I'll -tell you all about the loss of the poor little thing as -we go along."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Leave that to me," replied Rattam, waving his -hand with the air of a prince. "You would scarcely -understand the jogie's tale if you heard it. Our -people are very imaginative. It may be nothing but -moonshine and shadow. Leave it to me. Before you -quit the castle, all he has to tell shall be known."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The boys had broken the ice of ceremony in which -their elders were freezing, and agreeing that it would -be cruelty to raise false hopes by speaking a word too -soon to either Mr. or Mrs. Desborough, they parted. -Oliver returned to the hall, to sit in irksome silence, -while Rattam speedily vanished. The old gentlemen -by the wall looked as if they were longing to slip off -their chairs on to the floor, and take a rest after their -own fashion. The appearance of the attendants with -trays of sweetmeats was a welcome diversion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The five shawl bundles munched contentedly, -mumbling a word or two now and then, when another -servant appeared carrying a vase of most overpowering -scent. He made a dart at Mr. Desborough's handkerchief -and deluged it. Oliver's not being quite so -handy, he received a dab on the sleeve of his jacket, -where it remained to torment him for many a long -day, by its overpowering perfume, which nothing could -get rid of. The deputy's handkerchief was forthcoming -in a moment. Like a prudent man who knew -what he had to expect, he had provided himself with -a second; and when he received it again well saturated, -he quietly dropped it on the floor. Aglar was at play -with his ball in the gardens, tossing it up to the -balcony through which his little sisters and Kathleen -were peeping, when Rattam reappeared.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was anxious to show the young sahibs the wild -beasts in the gardens; not only Oliver, but Horace also. -That unmanageable young gentleman was clamouring -for the ball, which bounded high over Aglar's head; -so that Rattam's proposition was thankfully acceded -to by all parties. The boys visited the dark dens, -with their paved floors, well sluiced with water from -the lake, which were built at intervals in the midst -of myrtle bowers and clustering roses, and watched -the fierce striped tigers, growling behind the strong -iron bars which enclosed the front of the dens.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rattam drew Oliver aside. "It is a tale of magic," -he whispered, "in which all our people believe, but -yours do not. Yet the beebee Desborough must possess -some powerful charms. Think of the breastplate she -gave my brother! A bit of sticky paper, but -possessing such virtue."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bosh!" muttered Oliver. "It was a plaster, wasn't -it?" and he laughed heartily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"These charms that I wear," continued Rattam, touching -the loops of tigers' teeth in his turban and the silver -chains round his neck, "will keep me from all evil, -unless I destroy their power by some act of my own."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then," retorted Oliver, "I should call them -reminders to do right and fear no evil."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, you English have such different ideas to ours!" -said Rattam. "But I have sent for an old man from -the village—a hunter who has roamed the forests all -his life. He knows the footprint of every animal -that lives in them. I will send him into the jungle -to see if there is a wild child about; such things do -occasionally happen, as our people know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rattam had been working hard at his English since -he brought the fruit and flowers to Mrs. Desborough, -and he was an apt scholar; but he learned it all from -books. As they were speaking, a remarkable old man -entered the gardens, and approached Rattam, bowing -to the ground.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-footprint"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XI.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics large">THE FOOTPRINT.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"There he is!" said Rattam, waving his hand -grandly. "Look at him well. Did you -ever see such eyes? He is Tara Ghur, the oldest -shikaree, or hunter, among the hills, and he does what -few beside himself would dare to do. He goes alone -into the forest for days, marking the tracks of the -game, that he may know which way to lead the -hunting-parties. He was ready to start when I sent -for him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver looked curiously at the wiry figure before -him, so unlike the rest of the Rana's servants. His -eyes were light blue, with a piercing glance and a -flash like burnished steel. His cap and waistcloth -were a dull greeny brown, that yet approached to -yellow in the sunlight. In fact, it was so exactly -the same hue as the parched and dying leaves in the -drought of summer, that when he was creeping among -the bushes he could scarcely be distinguished from -them. He carried a light bamboo over his shoulder, -with a small water-pot slung at one end, and a skin -of atta, or meal, at the other. This was all the food -he took with him. His hunting-knife was in his -hand, as if he had been trying its edge, but he stuck -it in his belt and lowered his rusty matchlock to do -honour to the son of his chief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He has the true Tartar eye," continued Rattam, -"gifted with a power of sight that can detect the -smallest speck in the distance and recognize it at -once, no matter how far off it is or how queer it -looks. He is never deceived, and we have never -known him make a mistake. Now tell him what -you like."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver did not trust much to his own scant stock -of Indi. He caught up the ball and sent it bounding -before him. This, as he expected, set off Horace -running after it, whilst Aglar called out to his bearer -to pick up his "golee."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Down tumbled Horace. Oliver pulled him up, and -taking off his hat, showed him to the shikaree. The -old man surveyed him curiously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Child like this carried off by booraba. Search -for any trace of it. Reward sure," said Oliver, -asking Rattam to repeat his words for fear old Tara -should not understand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He did so, adding, "Search in the koonds by the -ruined temple."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old man's keen eye glittered as he salaamed to -the very ground.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver turned round to the fat boy in his silks and -satins, and shook him warmly by the hand until he -made the twining, serpent-shaped bracelets jingle. -"We are going to be chums after this," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Chums!" repeated Rattam; "what are they?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Friends, if you like it better," retorted Oliver.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Friends! ah, that I understand. That is good," -replied the young chieftain, taking Oliver's hand -between his own in his Eastern fashion. Happily for -Oliver, no little bag of musk was near to drop into -it. He was perfumed past all endurance already by -"that beggar with the scent-bottle."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now," cried Oliver, "I should like to be off with -the old man. I'm good for a ten-mile walk any day. -What say you? Could we be back again before my -uncle starts?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rattam drew himself up with dignity. "It would -hardly become me to walk," he said with emphasis.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver's impatient shrug was cut short by a -summons to the hall of audience. The deputy was going. -It was Rattam's turn to sigh, for he was as weary -of perching on a chaukee, or chair, as Oliver was of -the scent-bottle. He managed to draw up one leg -unseen by his tutor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Desborough was amused to discover the -fabulous powers attributed to her, and soothed the Ranee's -disappointment by sketching the three little girls as -they stood together in the flickering light and shade -cast from the fretwork of the balcony.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But now the word passed round that the sahib was -going. A breath of life entered into the five shawl -bundles. Rattam's other foot found its way to the floor. -In walked the two stout gentlemen in white with a -tray of wreaths. Oliver espied the scent-bottle in the -back-ground, and thought about flight. The Rana took -up a splendid wreath of weeping jessamine, with its -pure white blossoms trailing loosely over his outspread -arm, and dropped it solemnly over the deputy's head. -He, poor man, was doing his utmost to preserve his -gravity, and half succeeded. But Mr. Desborough's -utterly failed when a superb circlet of white and -orange </span><em class="italics">immortelles</em><span> found its way to his neck. He -took refuge in a fit of coughing, which approached -strangulation when he caught sight of Horace's face. -The little fellow was just brought in from the gardens, -and stared with wide-open eyes, literally struck dumb -by his father's absurd appearance. For the five by -the wall gravely left their chairs and followed the -Rana's example, until Mr. Desborough's shirt front -was lost to sight beneath the multitude of garlands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The band was gathering in the porch, and the -pompous peons were waiting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-night, gentlemen," said the deputy, shaking -hands all round.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By your honour's condescension, may your slaves -be reserved in health," replied the five, salaaming to -the ground, and they followed him to the top of the -steps, where the Rana was standing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The tomtoms and trumpets struck up with a sudden -blare as the horses were led forward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver squeezed Rattam's hand as he whispered his -last question, "When will the shikaree get back?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall send him to you," answered Rattam; and -they parted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Desborough and the children were already in -their dandies, crossing the bridge, as the horses -cantered out of the castle gate sniffing the cool hill -breezes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In pity, free me from this rubbish, boy," sighed -the deputy, turning to his nephew; when he beheld -ten coolies running behind them, carrying between -them jars of sweetmeats slung upon bamboos—a -parting gift from the Rana.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Uncle," said Oliver in a low voice, "I have -something to tell you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whilst Mr. Desborough shunted wreath after wreath -into his wife's lap, shaking himself after each surrender -like a dog emerging from the water, Oliver was -explaining to his uncle about Rattam and the shikaree.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Horace was fast asleep, and Kathleen's eyes were -blinking, when they reached the bungalow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Cheer up, little woman!" whispered Oliver, as he -bade her good-night; "Master Gravity, in his saffron -satin, is going to find out what his fellows have really -seen."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You shall have my bird!" she exclaimed in her -rush of gratitude.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nonsense, you silly little goose! You must not -give away a keepsake. Do you think I am like those -dusky beggars on the hill? My hands are empty -enough, ready for work, and I mean to keep them -so," retorted Oliver, stretching them out with intense -satisfaction to prove the truth of his words.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He did not see her again, for by daybreak the -Desboroughs were all </span><em class="italics">en route</em><span> for home, sweet home.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How happy the children were to see the many-gabled -roof once more, embowered as usual in an -ever-increasing mass of foliage and flowers, and -replete with joyous life in every corner! The owl still -sat in the entrance of his hole, blinking benevolently -at Kathleen and Horace as they took their first run -round the wide, cool veranda hand in hand, just to -see if all the old pets were safe. Kites and hoopoes -and blue jays were screaming and croaking to their -hearts' content.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The ayah called Kathleen to look at her billee, as -she called the kitten, which had grown immensely in -their absence. Then she lifted up Horace to watch -the gitchree, or squirrel, leaping from bough to bough -among the garden trees, and to listen to the cooing of -the jangalee, or wood-pigeon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The dark faces of the gardener and the bhisti -appeared at unexpected corners, with new treasures they -had been saving for the little beebee.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One had tamed a moongus, a cat-like creature as big -as a greyhound, and excellent for rats and mice, and -equally good for cockroaches and many another insect -pest which life in India knows only too much about.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Its soft gray coat and arching back, and all its -amusing ways, won a smile from mamma as it ran -about the house, sniffing at every new thing, and -examining every hole and corner with the greatest -curiosity. Finally, it set to work with teeth and -claw, and dug itself a subterranean retreat by the -door-step, where it could munch its dinner undisturbed -by the liberties of its many neighbours. It was so -clean, mamma had not a word to say against it. So -with that and Kathleen's mina, who was trusted to -leave his cage whenever he liked, the children had -plenty of amusement, and the first few days at home -sped rapidly away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One evening, when they were returning from their -walk, Kathleen with Sailor by her side, and a coolie -holding an umbrella over them both, they were hailed -by Oliver, who was driving in his uncle's boondee (a -hooded gig drawn by two oxen) to the gates of the -indigo factory. A long train of native carts, creaking -under their load of indigo pulp, were waiting to enter. -One ghareewan, or carter, had brought a rumour that -a fair child had been seen by some hunters in the -jungle. The tale had passed from lip to lip, until it -had reached Mr. Desborough, who was pacing his -office floor in unwonted agitation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver sprang out of the chaise and made his way -through the press with most unusual energy for India. -He entered the labyrinth of straw-thatched sheds, -passed the great crushing-mill, which a party of -half-dressed men were treading, and got splashed by the -dark-blue stream issuing from it. Never mind; on -he pressed, inquiring for the sahib. He was almost -deafened by the hissing and sputtering of the steam -from the huge boiling vat, when he became aware -that on all sides the men were rushing from their -work, and pointing to a dark reddish cloud that had -suddenly appeared in the north.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He could not tell in the least what all this uproar -could mean, so he tried to edge his way through the -crowd of hideous blue figures who were gesticulating -and screaming at their loudest. Then they began to -snatch up the stones around them, which they poised -in their hands as if prepared to hurl them at the skies. -Oliver thought of a riot, and was thankful to -perceive Mr. Desborough himself step out from one of -the numerous sheds and glance hurriedly around. -Just then a stick struck Oliver on the head. He -looked round; a second was thrown at him. The men -had not sent it, for it came from an opposite direction. -He glanced upwards; another was hurled at his back. -He did not like that at all. In spite of the agitation -visible in Mr. Desborough's manner, he began to laugh -as Oliver tried to run from his unseen persecutors, and -pointed to the roof of a great shed out of which the -busy workers were rushing pell-mell. Oliver looked -up, and saw a troop of black-faced monkeys, big -fellows three or four feet high, clambering over it. They -caught his eye at last, and then the shower was -renewed in earnest. He saw their switching tails and -grinning teeth. And oh, the chattering and jabbering -from five-and-twenty monkeys in a passion was -something very tremendous indeed! Oliver gathered -up a handful of the sticks which were showered around -him, and shied them back again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stop, stop, my lad!" shouted Mr. Desborough. -"Throwing at monkeys will not do. Come in here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver darted into the counting-house, fully -believing the riot he had been anticipating among the men -was already in full swing among the monkeys.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They are hunimans, my boy, the most sacred of -all the monkey tribe. Had you hurt one of them you -might have paid for it with your life. Timid and -peaceable as my men appear, they would have mobbed -you in a moment," exclaimed Mr. Desborough.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Peaceable!" repeated Oliver; "why, they are -yelling like furies."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, they are watching the locusts. Can't you see -them coming?" replied Mr. Desborough, pointing to -the rapidly-moving cloud, which seemed extending -itself in every direction, darkening the air as it came.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Strange," said the boy; "but I have something -here for you that is stranger still."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As he was speaking Oliver unpacked a lump of -clayey earth, and showed it to him with an elation he -could scarcely conceal.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look at that, Mr. Desborough. Do you see those -marks? What are they?" he demanded breathlessly. -"The print of a child's foot," he added, after a -momentary pause. "The most sagacious hunter among -the hills dug it up two nights ago at the entrance of -the koond by the ruined temple. It is proof positive -that a wild child is wandering in the jungle. Can it -be your lost little one?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The father's hand trembled as he held up the lump -of earth to the fast-decreasing light.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Send for Iffley!" he exclaimed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is waiting for you, Mr. Desborough—waiting -at my uncle's with the wonderful old man who dug -up the footprint. We have gathered the most -experienced beaters and trackers from the villages round. -By the time we reach my uncle's bungalow he will -have everything ready to beat the koond."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Desborough waited to hear no more. He was -already striding across the open space between the -sheds towards his home. Oliver hurried after him. -The sky above them was darkened by a fluttering host -of beating wings. Look which way they would, the -air was thick with locusts, appearing like dark-red -spots in the increasing gloom, but white as snowflakes -where the sunlight still lingered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The fearful hullaballoo the factory-workers were -making to prevent the locusts settling down was -caught up and redoubled by every ghareewan at the -factory gate. The living cloud that now completely -overhung the place was slowly and surely descending.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Up went the shower of stones, forcing it to rise -some feet into the air and flutter further.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The men knew well if the locusts were once permitted -to settle, not a green leaf would be left in the -village, and the sahib's garden would become a barren -waste before sunrise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The exceeding singularity of the sight, which held -Mrs. Desborough spell-bound on her veranda, was -altogether lost upon her husband, who saw nothing but his -children slowly returning from their evening stroll, -like all the rest of the world, gazing upwards. Oliver -alone cast a wary eye at the monkeys, who, having -given the young stranger notice to quit in their most -peremptory fashion, were making off again to rob the -nearest fruit-shop whilst its owner stood gazing at the -wondrous insect army hovering in mid-air.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Desborough snatched his boy from under the -ayah's arm, pulled off his shoes and socks, and bade -him stamp his feet with all his might on the garden bed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Desborough called out in horror, for she thought -some one of the myriad insects in earth or air would -be sure to dart a fiery sting into the pretty "pink, -five-beaded sole."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Determined to spare her the burning suspense which -Mr. Desborough was telling himself was sure to end -in the bitterest disappointment, he would not let -Oliver enter the compound.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Iffley has sent for me," was all the explanation he -volunteered as he seized the gardener's spade, and dug -up the clod upon which Horace had been stamping. -He dared not tell her more, for he saw too plainly her -grief for the missing little one was sapping her life. -Any sudden shock and a spasm at the heart might -snatch her from him in a moment.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="beating-the-koond"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics large">BEATING THE KOOND.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>As the boondee, with its two Mysore oxen, came -in sight, Major Iffley, who had been watching -for it at the gate of the deputy's compound, rode out -to meet it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, old boy," he said to Mr. Desborough; "we -are only waiting for you. Marching orders have been -out an hour or more. Come in and change your coat. -No use going on an errand like ours in any colour -but dead-leaf brown. St. Faine has got one waiting -for you. Only be quick, for the brutes have not yet -left their lair, and we have a four-mile ride to reach it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Out sprung Mr. Desborough. Dare he put so much -faith in a few faint marks on a crumbling clod? Yet -he was the first in the saddle as the hunting-train -set forth from Runnangore. A most singular sight -awaited them. As they looked down into the -valleys they saw them filled with fluttering wings, and -every mountain height encircled by its reddish cloud. -All locusts, and nothing but locusts. Vultures and -kites flew about in great disorder. A cold breeze -from the hills told of the probability of a coming -storm. In sheltered places the oppression in the air -was awful. The locusts called off the attention of the -men, but they also concealed them from the keen, -bright eyes that were waking up with thoughts of -evening prey.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As they drew nearer the hills, the ground became -so rough and broken the horses began to stumble. -There was nothing for it but to dismount, leave the -horses with the grooms, and proceed on foot. Tara -Ghur, the old hunter with the wonderful Tartar eye, -took the lead. On, on they crept in perfect silence, -until they perceived the sheen of a pool of water -sparkling at their feet. It lay at the base of a -projecting spur of rock, and was overlooked by the -picturesque ruins of a native temple. It was small, and -overgrown with tall tropical weeds. The flight of -steps to the temple court was half buried in mud. -The white pillars of the colonnade which surrounded -it were still unbroken, but the dome above the shrine -had fallen in. Yew and cypress flourished on the -spot where Hindu suppliants were used to bring their -offerings to Mata Devee, the dreaded goddess of -destruction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How strange Oliver felt it to be living in a land -where idols abound! One by one they climbed the -broken stair, and gathering round the prostrate figure -of the fallen idol, arranged their plan. From this -ascent they looked down upon the sombre depths of -the rugged koond. Round the shoulder of the hill, on -the other side, was the entrance to a similar gorge. -Tara Ghur led them towards the one in which he had -dug up the footprint. He sent the jogies forward -one after the other, like a living ladder, until they -reached the topmost height of the precipice at the back -of the koond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Another division, who were to act as scouts, climbed -the trees, some of them warily venturing further and -further into the leafy abyss, leaping like monkeys -from bough to bough.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Desborough, the deputy, and the major took -up their position where the opening was the narrowest, -so that no living thing hiding within the darkest -recesses could rush out unseen. Mr. Desborough and -the deputy were on one side; the major, Oliver, and -the old shikaree on the other. The space between -them was scarcely more than fifty yards across. Old -Tara had marked the trees commanding the surest -outlook. Mr. Desborough was the first to mount to -his post of observation. The hunter handed him up -his loaded gun.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no," said the father; "no firing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No firing!" repeated the major. "Then how do -you expect to recover the child from a pack of raging -wolves? Face the truth like a man, Desborough. -If your boy is alive in this jungle, some wolf has -adopted him, and it will guard that child with all the -affectionate fidelity of a noble-hearted dog."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! but you need the true, clear eye and unerring -hand of a William Tell. Not one of us possesses them. -No, no; I dare not suffer a single shot to be fired," -answered the father desperately.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," interposed the deputy soothingly, "nothing -of the sort may be necessary. We are not yet sure -this child, if child there be, is yours. Trust us, we -have come to save it, not to hurt it. Still, I say, we -must rescue it at all risks."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Time, sahib, time presses," urged the shikaree.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They climbed into their appointed places. The -deputy and Mr. Desborough on their side commanded -the better view. Then the jogies began their work -at the back of the koond, hurling down fragments of -rock and stones, striking and crashing among the -trees, beating tomtoms and howling with all their -might. The terrific row they made was repeated by -the hollow echoes from the opposite side of the -winding gorge, and was enough to scare even bears and -tigers from their sleep.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The shouts redoubled. A tiny white flag, waving -on the top of a long bamboo, fluttered above the -tree-tops. It was the signal from the jogies on the heights. -Something had been viewed. All the father's life -seemed centring in his eye and ear. The cry of the -jackals was beginning. The scream of the owls was -echoed back from the temple ruins, where the bats -were wheeling in endless circles. Then up rose the -moon, flooding the temple hill with its silvery -radiance, and giving an exaggerated profundity to the -depths of the ravine. The pool, or jheel, below the -overhanging rock shone like a burnished shield. In -the open ground between, which the beasts must cross -as they were driven out of the koond, any object could -be clearly seen. Then the scouts who were posted in -the trees by the sides, each with his matchlock, blazed -away with powder only, to prevent any of the beasts -rushing up the steep, and turn them back towards the -watchers by the entrance. There was a crashing and -heaving in the thick underwood. A tiger showed and -hid again in the jow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver's heart gave a great bound. Oh no, it was -not fear! But he felt the presence of danger, and his -cheek grew pale with excitement. Not a shot was -fired; not a sound escaped them. There must be -nothing to intimidate the other inmates of the koond -which might be following. The dead silence was -broken only by the tiger's grunting. Did it scent its -foes in the trees around? It did what nothing but -a tiger could ever do—sent its innocent young cub -before it into the danger. What a contrast between -the tiger and the wolf! But for once the unsuspecting -young one did not fall a sacrifice to its mother's -selfishness. It ran towards the water, crouching in -the moonje grass which tigers love so well. Another -furious onslaught from the jogies, and the mother -flashed past like lightning, rearing up and roaring as -it plunged into the jheel. The scouts came down from -the trees and began to talk. They were half afraid -the tiger was the only game that would show that -night. Should they move on to the second koond -to seek for the wolves? Then Tara Ghur bade all be -still. His ear detected a movement in the distance—a -tremor among the leaves, which no one else would -have perceived. The scouts changed their places, -flying back to the trees, and blazed away as before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were near to that korinda bush, but they did -not know it. The tiger had started, and the patriarch -of the wolves gave tongue from the other koond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Desborough turned away from the darkness -of the koond to watch the gaunt, lean, savage forms -that were gathering on the moonlit ground to follow -the track of the tiger. A movement in the tangle -around escaped him. But Tara Ghur was aware of -it. Oliver saw him bend forward, and his eye was -quick to follow the hunter's. Tara knew that -something was coming along the track where he dug up -the footprint.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That footprint! The father was thinking of it. -The trace was so slight, yet it was exactly like -Horace's. His heart was sickening with suspense. -Were they on a wrong scent, after all? thought the -major, when out leaped the family from the korinda, -with answering cries to the leader of the pack, who -was rushing down the slope. The appalling howls of -his following, as they gathered from brake and bush, -might have chilled the stoutest heart. No child was -there. The tall grass bent and swayed about the tree; -then a small white form bounded from the midst of it -like a kangaroo, but the old gray wolf was beside it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Shouts from opposite sides of the ravine gave -warning that something had been sighted. The small -white thing dropped in the towering grass. A gun -was fired. It was Major Iffley's. The wolf had -pounced upon her nursling. The gun was loaded -with small shot for the purpose. The major fired -along the ground. The wolf received the charge in -her shoulder. They could see her clawing the earth as -she felt the pain, and then dropped down as if she -were dead in the tufted grass. They could hear the -screams of the terrified child.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Carl! Carl!" Mr. Desborough called in coaxing -tones of fatherly endearment, which rose to command -as he met with no reply. The scouts were darting -from point to point, as far as ground and jungle -permitted. The three friends sprang down from the -trees, only charging Oliver to stay were he was. They -loaded their guns with ball, and advanced cautiously -to within a yard or so of the giant grass tuft. They -stationed themselves at even distances, that whichever -way the wolf leaped out they might be ready to -shoot him sideways through the head, so that the -ball should not enter the tuft of grass. Their first -object was to rouse the wolf and make it show. They -trusted that terror would prevent the child leaving -the shelter in which it lay concealed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Tara Ghur had broken off a tall branch from the -tree in which he had remained, and creeping along -one of its mighty arms, peered down into the grass, -but could see nothing. He stirred it up with the -broken branch, but roused nothing except a screaming -pea-hen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He leaped to the ground. "The wolf is gone!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But the child—the child!" gasped Mr. Desborough, -laying down his gun and forcing his way into the -tangled mass. No child was there. The wolf had -doubled upon them so swiftly and so stealthily, it -seemed as if the ground had opened to swallow it up. -The scouts jumped down from their trees, and all -separated, taking different paths, to try and find which -way the wolf had gone,—all but the old shikaree -and Oliver, who was still aloft. Mr. Desborough was -foremost; he no longer waited for the hunter's -guidance. Yes, he had seen his child. He believed now -it was his fair-haired boy. He had seen him and lost -him again. The thought was madness. The major, -gun in hand, kept close beside him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Tara Ghur, who seemed, like the owl, to possess the -power of seeing in the dark, was tracing the way the -wolf had come, not the path by which it had fled from -them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver, beginning to be afraid of being left behind -in so wild a spot, climbed down again and followed the -hunter, who was the last to leave it. The sailor-boy -had climbed so high into his tree, thinking to gain -a more commanding view, that he had not seen all -that was taking place at its foot. Having first met -Oliver in the company of the Rana's son, old Tara -Ghur regarded him with something of the devotion -and respect he felt for his native chief. He knew -the boy was safest by his side, and invited him by -gesture to follow. So the two crept on through the -pathless wild no foot but theirs had ever penetrated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If Oliver had found it hard work forcing his way -with Gobur through the grass clump by the river, it -was nothing to the task before him now. There were -sudden drops into unseen nullahs, or watercourses, -and a dangerous climb in the darkness up the steep -bank, facing rolling stones from the jagged heights -above. Now and again their only course was to climb -the trees, and swing themselves from bough to bough. -But through it all the hunter traced out the path -of the wolf with an unerring dexterity that was -perfectly marvellous to Oliver, tracking its course to the -sweeping boughs of the deserted korinda bush.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The bones about the gray wolf's home were gnawed -and dry. It was evident the hungry mother had -suppered her young family on snails and field-mice; -and she must have gone far afield for these, for the -hunting-grounds about the hairy nest had been -clearing fast of late. Old Tara tried to explain his -purpose, but Oliver did not half understand. He could -only watch what the hunter was doing, and second -his efforts whenever he could.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Child been here, sahib!" exclaimed Tara Ghur -suddenly, after carefully groping round and round -the well-made lair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But their object was to capture, not to kill, and -Oliver began to wonder more and more how this -could ever be effected.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The shikaree paused in perplexity. He had passed -his life among the wildest fastnesses of the district. -He had watched the ways of the living creatures who -lorded it there. He had studied the tastes, habits, -and disposition of every creature in the forest. He -was well aware the wolves would draw to their lair -with the return of day, and prepared to watch the -night out by the korinda bush. Then a sudden -thought seemed to strike him. He sprang up and -began anew to examine the ground around the path -the wolf had chosen. A deep hole, the burrow of -some wild animal, gave him intense satisfaction. He -heaved aside the decaying arm of a tree which had -fallen across it. Oliver came to his help, and adding -his strength to that of the wiry hunter, they dislodged -it altogether, and laid the burrow open.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver saw that it was a dangerous pitfall, and -wondered what was to be done with it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Tara leaped down and began to enlarge it with the -hunting-knife he carried in his belt. Then he tore -off a huge piece of bark from a neighbouring tree, -and pulled up a shrub by the roots. With this -impromptu shovel and broom he set himself to clear -out the loose earth and stones which had collected in -the bottom of the hole.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver meanwhile was keeping guard over the shikaree's -skin of meal and the earthen pot, which on this -particular occasion did not contain water. What it did -contain he could not imagine, for the edge was sticky -in the extreme. Before the moon began to wane the -burrow was enlarged to a good-sized pit. The -shikaree grew exultant. He beckoned to Oliver to follow -him, and the two wandered about among the trees -until they found some giant leaves of a bauhinia -creeper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They stripped the stem as far as they could reach, -and returned with their load of leaves to the edge of -the pit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The shikaree spread them on the ground before it. -Then he smeared them over with the contents of his jar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it?" thought Oliver—"bird lime?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he saw what the clever old man was about—making -a wolf-trap.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="caught-in-a-trap"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics large">CAUGHT IN A TRAP.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Whilst Oliver and the old shikaree were -working hard in the moonlight, Mr. Desborough -and his friends were in hot pursuit of the -flying wolves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The major, who was the keenest sportsman of the -three, gave it as his opinion that their wisest course -was to keep the pack in sight. The wolf with the -child was rushing from its covert in answer to the -patriarch's call, and would be sure to join the others -sooner or later.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Up came some of the jogies, breathless and panting, -to declare they had heard the cry of the child far up -the hill, toward the temple ruins. If so, the wolf -must have been retreating to the second koond, on the -other side of the hill. The deputy, who was anxious -to pick up his nephew, turned back to beat it with -another party of the jogies, who were examining the -tracks about the jheel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mind you beat up stream," shouted the major, as -he sprang into his saddle, prepared to give chase to -the wolves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They came up with the pack at the head of a -valley, where they were picking the bones of a spotted -deer some tiger had brought down. But no child was -among them. In a country so full of cover it was -impossible to say where the little fugitive might be -hiding. So they posted chakoos, or lookouts, all about, -to give instantaneous notice if anything showed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the gray of the dawn, disheartened and weary, -the friends drew together once again. Hunting-flasks -were taken out, and counsel held in the weed-grown -court of the temple.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Our hour is coming," said the major cheerily. -"Wait until the day is well up, and we shall find the -child asleep under one of these bushes. Now for -some lure to make it show. We must beat them all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And frighten him into idiocy, if his dawning sense -has not been scared away already! He knew me no -longer," exclaimed Mr. Desborough.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Surely he would recognize his mother's voice," -put in the deputy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I dare not risk the torture of suspense like this -for her; but we might have Kathleen. If he remembers -anything, it would be Kathleen," answered Mr. Desborough.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Send for her at once without alarming Mrs. Desborough," -said the deputy, taking out his pocket-book; -and scribbling a note to his niece, he despatched his -syce with it to Runnangore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At a very early hour, Bona's dandy appeared once -more at the gate of the compound at Noak-holly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have come in the cool of the morning," she said, -"to fetch your little girl to spend the day at -Runnangore. You must not refuse her to me, dear -Mrs. Desborough, for Mr. Desborough wishes her to accept -my invitation."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Kathleen did not much like Bona, and did not -want to go, until Bona whispered, "Hush! not a -word; but come you must. They are searching for -Carl in the jungle."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oh how tedious it seemed to wait until the little -beebee was bathed and dressed!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the meanwhile Oliver was nodding in his tree, -waiting for the shikaree's signal. The old man was -listening for the faintest sound. Not a quiver in the -bush below escaped him; not the beat of a weary wing -as the night-birds drew to their haunts; not a tremble -in the grass at his feet, where the children of the day -were awaking.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The wind changed with the daybreak, and the wary -hunter changed his position with it. He swung -himself from tree to tree, leaving no footprint on the -ground that the keen scent of the wolf might detect. -Avoiding the trees where the branches grew low to -the ground, he stationed the boy at a far greater -distance than before. Again they watched and -waited. A few sharp, trotting steps went by, and a -dhole sprang from the thicket.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bear," murmured Tara, as the creature turned -aggressive, and dashing out with a rush upon the -wild dog, charged him fiercely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the noise of their scuffle other sounds were -lost. But the flap of the vulture's wing, the scream -of the kite, and the hoarse gobble-gobble of the still -more numerous turkey-buzzards grew more and more -distinct as the red light of morning painted the -eastern sky.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sun arose, and the furry tyrants of the -midnight fled before it. The tiger was slumbering in -the moonje grass he loves so well; the spotted -leopard chose out his favourite tree, uprising from the -thickest underwood, and coiled himself up for his -mid-day rest; the bear trotted off to his den behind the -fallen rock; the spotted deer roamed freely; and the -peacocks, with which the jungle abounded, spread -their glorious tails in the sunlight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Tara Ghur descended his tree, and signing to -Oliver to follow, stealthily approached the pit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The large leaves of the bauhinia creeper and the -pranes tree, a kind of sycamore, with which he had -carpeted the path of the wolf, had been trampled -down and displaced. Some had altogether vanished. -The old man's eyes were flashing with their steeliest -blue as he felt success was sure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Avoiding the remnants of the bird-lime leaves, which -were strewn about in all directions, he led his young -companion to the other edge of the pit. Something -had been caught. The sombre gloom around, the -perpetual twilight which reigned all day in those deep -recesses, prevented him from telling what it was. It -seemed like blanket, not hair, that was covering a -dark heap in the corner, besmeared with many a leaf. -There was more than one denizen of the pit. How -he smiled as he was bending over it! Oliver was -watching a foolish hare, which came with a light -bound across the treacherous pathway. As its feet -touched a well-smeared pranes leaf, they were set -fast, and not all its frantic endeavours could free -itself. It rolled over and over, lifting the leaf high -into the air, as far as its paws could reach. It bit it -frantically; lips and paw were glued together. It -struggled harder still to regain its liberty, until it -became a rolling ball of dirt and leaves, every movement -bringing it nearer and nearer to the sloping edge -of the pit, into which it must have fallen if Oliver -had not caught it in his arms and set it free.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The hunter recalled his attention. A faint sound -was audible, like the feeble fret of a weary child. -Oliver's cap went high into the air. Tara reminded -him of the necessity for silence by laying his finger -on his lips. Then he took the hunting-knife from his -belt and felt its edge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver's eyes were growing more accustomed to the -all-pervading gloom, and he began to see more clearly. -He leaned over the edge of the pit. There was the -wolf crouching in one corner, and a shapeless bundle -in the other. Many a treacherous leaf was sticking -fast about the shaggy coat, and one hind leg was -evidently broken by its fall. Was that a bundle of -leaves it was cuddling between its fore paws, and -washing so lovingly despite its pain?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Child found—found!" whispered the old man -triumphantly, as he returned his knife to his belt and -began to descend.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Swift as lightning the young sailor-boy slid down -before him. He guessed the hunter's purpose. He -saw the gleam of the sharpened blade, and seized the -old man's arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no; don't kill the wolf!" he entreated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Maro! maro!" shrieked a voice behind them, and -a woman's face peeped out of the dirty blanket. The -jewels round her neck shone like stars in the darkness. -"Maro!" she reiterated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Maro." Oliver knew that word—"Kill it." The -old shikaree was muttering the same. But Oliver -only grasped his arm the tighter. "Should we be -harder-hearted than a wolf?" he urged. "What are -we, if we reward the generosity that spared the -victim in her very teeth, with the knife?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Tara Ghur looked at him in astonishment. "But -the mighty lords that are coming will make it eat -their bullets," he answered under his breath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver knew he was arguing with a man who bent -the knee to hideous idols without number. Yet he -was a man, and deep down in his heart the law of -God was written, "Do as you would be done by"—a -law that is never quite obliterated in any human -breast, however persistently disobeyed. Although of -another race, Tara had learned something of the Hindu -tenderness for animal life, and he listened when -Oliver still went on: "You have caught the wolf so -cleverly, Tara. If there is not another hunter in all -the hills that could do it, I am sure that you can get -the child away without killing the wolf, if you will -only try. I want it for Rattam," he added. The last -argument was all-prevailing. The knife went back -into the old man's belt. They looked around. Their -first endeavour was to reassure the unfortunate woman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was crossing to Nataban, and had lost her way -in the jungle, where she had been wandering about all -night. Her feet slipped on the bird-lime, and she -fell, as the wolf had fallen, into the hunter's trap, -where she was forced to remain huddled up in her -blanket, expecting every moment the brute would -turn and devour her. But deliverance had come -with the morning. Her gratitude knew no bounds. -Oliver scrambled out of the pit, and gave her a hand -from above, while Tara lifted her up on his shoulder; -and so between them they dragged her back to the -daylight, if daylight it might be called.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The dirty blanket was dropped in the pit, and the -Thibetan woman stood before them in her necklaces -and rags. Oliver had not forgotten little Kathleen -and the mountain milkmaid. Could those three -strings of beads belong to any one else? But he -dared not stay to question. He left her seated and -trembling on the root of a tree, and leaped down into -the pit again. The wolf was blinded by the birdlime, -but she had heard their voices. Like all wolves -when caught in a pit, she was completely cowed. -Instead of offering the least resistance, she stretched -herself at the bottom of the pit, as if she were dead, -with her fore paws over her nursling, hiding him all -she could.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The hunter, who knew what wolves will do under -such circumstances, guessed it was only pretence. -She could not get out of the pit herself; and he had -known wolves artful enough to let him drag them -out, without showing the slightest sign of life, and -when he had left them lying on the ground, believing -they were dead, they would suddenly start up and -run away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Tara Ghur explained this to Oliver as well as he -could, assuring him in this state she would submit to -be handled. It was clear she had not attempted to -touch the woman. Under any other circumstances -she would have torn her to pieces.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The boy's heart gave a great leap of joy. He saw -a baby's foot twitching between the outstretched paws. -Old Tara saw it too. He took from the bosom of his -loose brown vest, which is the Hindu's pocket, a coil -of rope, and was tying a slip noose at one end, when -Oliver guessed his purpose. In another moment the -noose would have been round the gray wolf's throat. -Oliver knew the old man was only doing his duty to -those who had employed him to find the child and -destroy the wolf, but he could not bear to see him -kill the noble-hearted creature with the child in her -paws—the child she had spared and cherished and -guarded from unimaginable perils all those months! -"We must, we ought to spare her in our turn," he -cried, pushing back the noose as far as her jaw. -"We will muzzle her; that's enough."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the collar to fix the muzzle was wanting. Oliver -was wearing knickerbockers and a loose brown blouse, -belted round his waist. He tore off his belt and -slipped the buckle down: there was the collar they -wanted. Whilst Tara still held the ends of the rope, -securing the wolf's mouth, Oliver slipped his belt -under her chin, and buckled it firmly at the back of -her neck. Then they drew the two ends of the rope -over her forehead and knotted them to the belt, and -the wolf was securely muzzled. With the end of the -rope which he still held Tara pulled her backwards, -and Oliver snatched up the child, all sticky with -the bird-lime, and covered with the dust and dirt in -which it had been rolled; but its limbs were warm -and strong, for it resisted his attempts to hold it. -He was by far the stronger of the two, but the -struggle might rouse the wolf to animation. Oliver -slipped two fingers into his pocket, which he was in -the habit of filling from the Rana's jars, and pushed -a bit of the beautiful sweetmeats with which they -were filled into the tiny mouth. The little creature, -so long a stranger to the taste of sugar, sucked its -lips with pleasure. It must have been hungry. He -fed it with all he had, until Tara came and took it -from him to carry it out of the pit. Oliver watched -him scramble to the top with the child in his arms, -but he did not follow when he saw them safely on -the bank. There was something else he wanted to -do. He was not going to leave the wolf down there, -with a broken leg, to perish slowly from hunger and -thirst: that would be cruelty indeed. He stood a -while considering the broken limb.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sahib! sahib!" called the hunter. Oliver's plan -was made; so he grasped the dusky hand which was -stretched out to him, and clambered up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The ragged woman had taken the child in her -arms, and was trying to rub off some of the dirt -which covered it with the corner of her chuddar, -the loose garment the Hindu women wear. Her own -had once been pink, but had now lost all trace of its -original colour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What child had they found? Was it black or -white? Who could answer the question in its state -of dirt in that dim twilight? Had it been so long -with the wolves that it had learned their ways, or -had it become dumb with terror? No sound came -from its lips but a low fret.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Old Tara drew his fingers over its shock of matted -hair and parted its toes; but its shape was enough -for him—it was no Hindu. Not one white spot was -to be seen about it. No matter; the old man was -confident he had found the lost one.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were now at the very head of the koond, far -away from the rest of their party, who were vainly -beating the bushes about the sloping ground below -the temple. The long night-watch had made them -hungry. Tara looked about for a breakfast for his -companions. The chasm which divided the koond -had changed to a rushing torrent during the rains, -and he searched along its banks for the nest of the -black goose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Date-trees, which abound in every part of Bengal, -were not far to seek. He quickly wove himself a -basket of leaves, and brought back his spoil in -triumph. He found Oliver cutting up a strip of -bark with his penknife, talking to the woman as best -he could.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had discovered that her name was Kopatree. -She had been tending cows among the hills. A -buffalo had attacked them; she fled for her life, and -lost her way. If they could only guide her back to -the road or to the village by the Rana's castle, she -could find her way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have you been working at the sanitarium high -up on the hills?" asked Oliver.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes; before the rains began." She remembered -the weeping beebee, and her distress for the lost one.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All agreed it would not be safe to take the long -walk through the jungle towards the ruined temple, -as the child might set up screaming any moment, and -bring the wolf's mate upon them, with the whole -pack at his heels. No; they must steal away while -the wolves were well settled in their mid-day sleep. -Better climb the rocks under which they were -resting, and seek hospitality at the Rana's castle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When this decision was reached, Oliver slid down -into the pit, with his strips of bark in his pocket. -He had no scruple about appropriating the dirty -blanket, resolving to buy its luckless owner a better -in Noak-holly bazaar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His father's sailors had so often brought back some -strange pet from foreign parts, to amuse them on -their homeward voyage, that he was not so afraid of -touching the wolf as many boys would have been. -Once they had had a lion cub, and twice a bear, so -that he had had a little training as a menagerie-keeper. -He tore off a strip of the blanket, and knelt -down, with his little bundle of splints by his side, and -set the poor broken leg as well as he was able, -keeping the splints in place with his blanket-bandages. -This done, he clambered out of the pit with the end -of the rope in his hand, and tethered the wolf to the -nearest tree, for the rope uncoiled to a considerable -length.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Tara Ghur was impatient to be gone, for he knew -that a storm was impending, was stealing over them, -with the growing heat of the day. Suddenly in a -moment the mighty trees of the forest swayed hither -and thither, bowing their giant heads as a furious gust -of wind swept through their leafy arcades; and he -knew it was time to be gone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Making prize of the remainder of the dirty blanket, -he slung the child to his back. The bag of atta -and the pot of bird-lime were left behind under a -heap of stones. The old man led them by a path -the wild goats had made. As they began to climb -the steep ascent, he grasped Oliver by one hand, -Kopatree seized the other, and so between them they -almost carried him along, until the topmost height -was reached.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-homeward-road"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIV.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics large">THE HOMEWARD ROAD.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The old hunter's forethought was apparent now; -for the child at his back began to howl most -dismally as poor little Carl became aware that he was -being carried away from his forest home. Oliver's -sweetmeats were exhausted, and words, entreaties, and -caresses were lavished on him in vain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Through his wonderful power of observation, and -the experiences of his adventurous life, old Tara knew -as accurately as any scientific professor how surely -sound descends. Ah, what if the wolves should -awaken!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He knew the whole pack were sleeping in the dark -shadows of the gorge where he had found the child, -and he knew also that nothing makes a wild beast -so angry as being wakened from its mid-day sleep. -Carly's wild howl grew louder and louder—it might -bring death upon them all—and nothing would -still it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But for the sudden breeze which had tempered the -air, Oliver would have dropped with the noonday -heat. As it was, he found it almost impossible to -keep up with his companions. His thirst was becoming -unbearable, when Tara espied in the distance one -of the water-sheds which are built all over the sides -of the hills where there is water. The little party -made their way towards it, grateful for the refreshing -shade its roof afforded. In the shed there was a -range of stone troughs, filled from the running stream -by which it was built; and round these troughs -were a row of pipes, some made of reeds and some -from hollow trees. It was a curious sight to see -them spouting out water with a gentle, trickling fall. -A native hill-man had brought up his oxen to drink, -and whilst they slaked their thirst, he was smoking -his pipe in the cool, damp shelter. Two women were -filling their pitchers, and after the fashion of -hill-mothers, they had laid their babies to sleep under the -water-spouts. The Thibetan caught sight of the little -black faces sleeping so peacefully, and ran to place -their howling burden beside them. She laid little -Carl down, with his head within a few inches of a -spouting reed. The effect was instantaneous. The -eyes and mouth closed slowly, and the child fell into -a profound, sweet sleep, which she knew would last -as long as they left him under the spout.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Tara Ghur was talking to the herdsman, who lent -him his pipe. Oliver begged a draught of water from -one of the women's pitchers, and washed his face and -hands at one of the many rills that were flowing so -prettily around him. He was thinking that Bona -would consider herself a queen in the plainest of the -necklaces worn by the ragged and dirty creature -before him. He was wondering whether it would be -safe to leave her with the sleeping child whilst he -went on with the shikaree to the Rana's castle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But no; he decided Mr. and Mrs. Desborough would -never forgive him if he lost sight of their scarcely -recovered treasure. No; he must wait until Carl was -so soundly asleep that they could take him up and -carry him away without waking him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rest, sahib," urged the hunter, pointing to the -trickling reeds.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hungry as he was, Oliver laid himself down, -intending to watch, not to sleep. But the heat and the -drowsy influences of the gentle shower-bath overcame -the boy, and he was soon as fast asleep as the child. -After his night's adventures in the forest, the -sensation was most delightful. Care and fear seemed to -vanish, and his dreams transported him to the beauties -of fairy-land. The horned heads of the oxen came -alarmingly near, but they did not disturb the blissful -tranquillity in which he lay, as if he were spell-bound.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Tara's hand upon his shoulder roused him at last. -He heard the faint, low musical tinkle of a distant -bell from the idol-temple, where the Rana worshipped -his monkey-headed divinity; where he took his -young sons to be sprinkled with consecrated water, -and have their limbs touched with all imaginable -substances, until Rattam was thoroughly cross. He -was crosser than usual this morning, being bored out -with the tedious childish ceremonies which he had -had to sit through in stately silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was delightful to receive a message from a -native woman, as he came out of the temple, to tell -him the hunter had returned, and was waiting with -the young sahib at the water-shed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the shikaree touched Oliver on the shoulder, -the milk-white ass, the gold-fringed umbrella, and -the crowd of dusky attendants were advancing with -Rattam across the intervening plateau.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What does my brother in so mean a place," he -asked, "when tiffin waits him in our castle-hall?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver stretched himself and rubbed his eyes, not -at once remembering all that had happened. Then -recollection came back, and he sprang to his feet, -pointing to the sleeping child, and gave Rattam's hand -a hearty Yorkshire grip.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girlish young Oriental smiled, although he -felt as if his fingers would all be out of joint: and -pointing to a led ass behind him, signed to Oliver to -mount.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Thibetan had hid herself in the shed. But -Rattam would not come near poor Carl. "He will -bite," he said warningly, and his attendants shared in -his belief. Not one of them dared touch Carl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Give him to me," shouted Oliver; for it was easy -to see the Thibetan was growing fearful by contagion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver tumbled into the saddle. The hunter gently -lifted up the child and laid it across his knees. A -running syce led the ass, and another carried an -umbrella over it, shading Oliver and his novel burden -from the dazzling sun. Rattam rode beside him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Tara Ghur came up, bending to the very ground -before them. He was anxious to be the first to carry -the good news to the search-party below the koond. -He was thinking of his well-earned reward, and he -did not want another messenger to share it. So they -bade him go.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rattam called to his attendants to halt under the -leafy arches of a banyan tree, that they might watch -Tara leaping down into the koond, springing from -bough to bough, as if food and sleep were luxuries, -to be enjoyed in leisure hours alone. Then Oliver -blamed his sleepy head that he had not spoken again -about the wolf.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"O Rattam," he urged, "you have one empty den -in the corner of your lovely gardens; will you have -it there? Think of the love that could transform a -wolf! You should have seen its face as I did, when -we first looked down into the pit. It made me feel -there is nothing in the world so beautiful as -love—nothing so strong. And when we had got the child -away, I could not bear to let Tara hurt the wolf. The -same God who made us made it. God is love. Does -not he care for the whole world around, for everything -he has made? How will he look on the cruelty -of leaving the noble brute to perish in the pit?—and -I've done that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Forget it," said Rattam; "remember only you -have rescued the child."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver hugged the sleeping bundle of life in his -arms. "Oh, don't mistake me!" he said passionately. -"But now we have got him away, it is such cruelty -to leave the wolf tied as I have tied it. Surely you -must see it is. And I have let the hunter go."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Perhaps Rattam did not see just what Oliver -desired he should; but the young idolater was struck -by his companion's earnestness. With all a Hindu's -reluctance to take the life of the animals around him, -he had no care for the cruelty of leaving the wolf to -perish; yet, like a flash in the darkness, a sense of -the difference between him and the English boy was -stirring in his heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is too much like striking a fallen foe," urged -Oliver, as they resumed their journey.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay," returned Rattam; "I accept the gift: the -wolf is mine. There is my father."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Rana in his everyday dress of ordinary white -cotton could only be distinguished from the headman -of his village by the silver ring on his finger and the -fineness of the shawl about his waist. He was driving -back from the village when he encountered his son.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile the old shikaree had raised the signal -of success agreed upon. He had sent up a tall column -of smoke whilst Oliver slept, by setting fire to a patch -of grass. The nearest scout had seen and repeated it. -The tiny flags on the long bamboos which his -companions carried had waved the good news from the -jagged cliffs across the temple ruins, from point to -point along the broken ground, until it reached the -father's ears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The boys glanced round, and saw the wearied -jogies swarming up the steep ascent above the -koond, towards the slip of table-land on the verge -of the forest behind the Rana's castle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Foremost of all came Mr. Desborough up the precipitous -path, until the footing for the well-trained -mule he rode became too precarious. Then he sprang -to the ground, flung the bridle to his syce, and -hurried along on foot. The two friends following -copied his example.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rattam and Oliver turned back to meet them; then -they perceived the old shikaree running before them -as their guide. His tattered garments were so -exactly the colour of the waving grass and scattered -bushes through which he was leading them, that he -looked more like some huge grasshopper than a -living man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They saw him pointing to the castle wall and -gesticulating frantically in all the pride of his -hardly-earned success, counting on the moment when he -should lay the rescued little one in its father's arms. -Then far down behind the lingerers of the scattered -party they heard the echo of the dandy-wallahs' -song. Despite the stubborn temper of the thing -he was riding, Oliver did manage to press forward, -and lifting up the sleepy child, he held it -conspicuously before him. Of course he waked up Carl, and -the howling wail again began.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Was ever any sound so grateful to Mr. Desborough's -straining ears?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There, there; listen!" he exclaimed, as he cleared -the ground between them and came up panting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext" id="id1"><span>"Here is the child, Mr. Desborough!" cried Oliver. -"Now tell us, is he yours?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Turned nurse, my boy?" laughed the major.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver answered with a shrug and a grimace, growing -ridiculous, as he felt their task was accomplished.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Desborough sat down with the child on a -lichen-covered stone. Where were the clear blue -eyes? Gummed up.—Where was the soft fair hair? -A shock of dirt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The child snapped savagely at the hand that was -fondling him, and renewed his wail.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Take care," said Rattam. "I warned you it -would be dangerous," backing his ass as he spoke.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Quiet!" The single word fell from the major's -lips in the stern tones of military command. The -howl ceased, and the child lay passive in -Mr. Desborough's arms. They soon found out how well it -had learned the all-important lesson of obedience in -the wild wolf's nest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A good scrub would be an improvement, I am -thinking," remarked the deputy, with more drollery -in the corner of his eye than Oliver had imagined -him to possess.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The whole party were gathering now. They drew -together under the banyan tree. In its grateful -shadow there was room for all; for its arching -branches had struck root as they touched the ground, -forming a succession of leafy cloisters, until a grove -had grown from a single tree. The overwhelming -thankfulness in Mr. Desborough's heart lay far too -deep for words as he looked the child well over, -and felt it was his own—his Carl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were laughter and rejoicing all around him; -but his brow was grave with the depth of his -gratitude when the dandy-wallahs came up. As Kathleen -peeped from her swinging carriage, she saw but one -face, and that was her father's.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What did it mean?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked up and smiled at her. His eye was -off the child just for one moment. Carl sprang into -the air with a bound, leaping off like a frog to the -tufted grass. Everybody ran—even Rattam. But -Kathleen and her bearers faced him. They set the -dandy on the ground, and ran round and round, -scaring the queer little creature back, but not daring to -touch him. Kathleen, peeping through the curtains -of her dandy, saw it all. The great love that was -throbbing in her childish heart shut out every thought -of fear. The strange wild thing gave another leap. -She tumbled out of the dandy, and as it touched the -grass, with hands outspread, she caught it in her -arms. The thing seemed nothing better than a -human frog, with half-blind eyes and champing teeth. -Save where the leaves clung to it, as if they had been -glued, the little figure was completely naked and -covered with slimy dirt. What did it matter? she -loved him the more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will have hard work to get the child home -in safety yet," said Major Iffley; "you will have to -secure it somehow. Borrow a cummer-band and -swathe it round and round like a mummy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No bad thought," added the deputy; "something -must be done."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Desborough was kneeling by his children. -Before the major had finished speaking, an elderly -bearer in Rattam's train, who looked as if he had -huddled himself into a clean sheet to attend his young -chieftain at the temple service, threw off this -additional covering at a sign from his master and laid it -at the sahib's feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Put it round us both, papa," said Kathleen, "and -then Carl won't mind it." Mr. Desborough thought -the sunbeam she had been trying to entrap had made -its home in the happy eyes uplifted so pleadingly -to his. "He will be good with me, papa; he always -was," she added.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The deputy was searching in his niece's dandy. -Yes; Bona had understood all his hasty directions. -At the back of the cushions there was the store of -cakes, sufficiently English-looking to delight a child. -"Here, Oliver," he said; "feed it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It." The word jarred on Kathleen's ears. "It -is not it," she persisted indignantly; "it is my pretty -Carl."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Desborough took the cake from Oliver's hand -and fed Carl himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The cake was devoured; and whilst he filled the -hungry mouth, the major passed the long length of -calico quickly round Carl's neck, enveloping arms and -feet, until the wild little harlequin was reduced to a -great white ball, at least in appearance. How fast -the cakes were vanishing!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"O Bona!" muttered Oliver, too proud to take -the share he was longing for, "she might have sent -us more."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No one but Rattam heard the low-voiced grumble.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sahib," he said, "my father awaits you," waving -his hand in the direction of the castle wall.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But home was the word. "Yes, home," repeated -Mr. Desborough—"home to his mother."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Try a tub first," suggested the major.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rattam was speaking to his shikaree.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have done my bidding, and you have done it -well," he said like a prince. "Now bring me home -the wolf you have caught. Bring it home alive to -the vacant den in the castle gardens."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Tara Ghur salaamed before his chieftain till the -dust rose up in a cloud between them. Oliver grasped -the hand of his dusky friend once more. How was -it he was always feeling Rattam more of a man than -himself, or far too much of a girl?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now that poor little Carl was made safe, so that -he could not hurt any one, Rattam alighted, and drew -nearer to the group on the grass.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Talk to Carly again, Kathleen," Mr. Desborough -was saying; "I believe he knows you. But you must -not kiss him until I tell you it is safe," he added -quickly, as she threw her arms around her long-lost -brother.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Kathleen paused, and looked up in her father's face, -bewildered for a moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I will not do it, papa. I'll never forget -again to mind what you say."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The hand which had snatched her back patted her -fondly on the cheek, and the bitter pain which -Kathleen had felt so long vanished altogether as her -father answered,—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes: I can trust you now, and I am going to -trust you to take Carl home, my darling."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He put them both into the dandy, and drew the -curtains closely round, so that nothing could be seen -by the children. Bona's great bag of cakes was on -Kathleen's lap, and her father showed her how to -give Carl a bite without letting her fingers go near -enough to his teeth to be in danger of an angry snap.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Desborough had left himself a peep-hole, so -that his eye was never off his children for a moment -as he walked by the side of the dandy. Had ever -father such a journey before?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, Kathy," he said cheerily, "you can do what -no one else can do: you can make Carly listen. -See how his eyes follow yours! Try and waken up -his old love; you were with him to the last. Think -of all that he was fond of in his nursery days; no -one knows but you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sahib! sahib!" entreated the coolies round, "no -trust it with the little beebee—no trust it; grow -angry, tear and bite."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Even the major and the deputy looked on doubtfully. -They had known Kathleen only as a little -wilful, heedless thing; but now they saw the better, -higher nature in the child, expanding through the -sorrow and the joy she had felt so deeply,—just as -young plants grow and blossom when sunshine follows rain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should think myself a happy man, Desborough, -if I had such another fairy to call me father," -observed the major, as they listened to Kathleen's cooing -voice as she chattered on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"O Carly, don't you know your own, own sissy? -Now eat this, you dear, and Kath will give you -plenty more, all so nice. There, there!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That sahib would blow the conch shell for a -daughter," remarked Rattam thoughtfully. "I -remember how our people blew it loudly for joy when -Aglar was born; but when my little sister Deodee -came, they all began to sigh and lament. I really -think it would be well for us if that were changed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then change it all you can," retorted Oliver. -"Some day you and I will be men. But you need -not wait for that; you are a brother now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rattam went home with a shadow on his brow, -and a hunger in his heart for better things. We -know of the promise that such hunger shall be -satisfied at last; but Rattam knew only the favourite -Hindu saying, "As it has always been, so it always -will be," which fell like a wet blanket on his -new-born wish to try. Yet that one day had not been -lived in vain.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-little-savage"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XV.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics large">A LITTLE SAVAGE.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>As the search-party were descending the hills, the -Thibetan peeped out from the water-shed. -The sheen of her resplendent jewels caught Oliver's -eye, so he sent his uncle's syce to persuade her to go -with them to the Beebee Desborough, who knew her. -She was mourning over her lost cows, which she feared -some of the wandering robber tribes would drive -away if they found them straying. They all wore -necklets of red cloth, she said, which she had sewn -with cowries in patterns.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver was counting up his money, to see if he -could buy her a cow, when one of the jogies declared -he had seen them rush out from the jungle when they -were beating the second koond. He was certain she -would find them roaming amidst the bushes below -the ruins. So on she went, for the vultures and -kites were sweeping round and round in great -disorder—a sure presage of the approach of the storm -Tara Ghur had predicted. A gust of cold wind swept -down from the highest peaks, driving before it a dark -and whirling cloud, which covered the travellers with -a thick pall of dust.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They groped their way, afraid to linger in the -dangerous neighbourhood of the koonds, and still -more afraid of losing each other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Major Iffley rode about, looking up the stragglers; -and making the men close round the dandy, they -marched on. A brooding silence filled the air, only -broken at intervals by the vulture's scream or the -beat of retreating wings. Mr. Desborough parted the -curtains of the dandy and felt about, to assure -himself both children were safe. Carl waked with the -darkness, and began to howl—the same wild howl -which had frightened the old shikaree in the -morning. He was not there now to point out its danger. -But the Thibetan put her hand to her ear again and -again as she listened. Was there an answer from the -distant koond?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you hear anything?" asked Oliver, as the -first returning gleam of light showed them the gate -of Mr. Desborough's compound. They had reached -his home, and might have passed it unawares, so -great was the darkness of the coming storm. The -trees in his garden bent their proud heads, and swayed -from side to side like jungle grass as the rain came -down at last in a mighty torrent. There was just -light enough to distinguish the white columns of the -veranda through the open gate. There was a general -rush to shelter, for in those brief moments the -carriage drive had become a rushing river. The gleam -of the lighted lamps in Mr. Desborough's hall cast a -glow of welcome on the sodden curtains of the dandy. -Mr. Desborough made his men carry it right through -the folding doors, and set it down on the middle of -the floor, whilst he carefully closed them behind it. -Major Iffley had divined his intention, and was already -shutting every other door which opened into the hall. -Oliver and his uncle were both shut out, and groped -their way to the dining-room window, where Bona -was standing watching the storm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You here!" they both exclaimed in surprise, as -she opened it to let them in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, yes," she hesitated. "I grew so impatient -I came across to see if you had got home. Have you -found anything?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yes!" they reiterated, as Mrs. Desborough -herself appeared behind her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where is Kathleen?" she asked, looking beyond -the deputy—whom she failed to recognize in the -gloom of the storm—to the dripping coolies. The men -were crowding in the veranda, rubbing their wet feet -and wringing the water from their calico garments.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the hubble-bubble of the many tongues she -failed to understand anything.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Kathleen is all right," said Bona quickly. "I -told you she was with her father."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Calm your anxiety, my dear Mrs. Desborough," -began the deputy, with a seriousness which he -intended should prepare the way; but it only startled her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What does all this mean?" she asked, looking -from one to the other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It means—well, it means—" and the deputy -coughed to gain time.—"Just see, Oliver," he added -aside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bother it!" muttered the boy; "I can't open this door."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bona hastened to his help; but they pushed against -it in vain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Desborough, always apprehensive since Carl -was lost, was growing desperate. "Where is -Kathleen?" she reiterated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Call her," suggested the coughing deputy to his nephew.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Kathleen!" shouted Oliver. "Do come to your mother."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are the doors all shut?" demanded Mr. Desborough -in return.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yes!" echoed a chorus of voices as Mr. Desborough -walked in, carrying what seemed to his wife -to be nothing but a big bundle of calico.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Kathleen flew to her side. Mrs. Desborough caught -hold of her by both hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do not look at me, mamma; look at what we've -found," said Kathleen excitedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A child," continued Mr. Desborough, speaking as -quietly as he could. "Come and look, my dear."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A flash of lightning lit up the darkened room for -one brief moment, and left it blacker than before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bring lights," said Mr. Desborough.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes; and order in the roast-joint, for this poor -lad has scarcely tasted food all day," put in Major -Iffley, laying his hand on Oliver's shoulder. -"Besides," he added in a low aside, "nothing will be so -attractive to that young animal as the savoury smell -of the roast. I speak advisedly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let us have our dinner, my dear," said Mr. Desborough, -turning to Mrs. Desborough as she bent -over the bundle in his arms.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The lights quickly appeared, followed by the ayah -with sponge, soap, and towel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He took the sponge from her hand, and gently -washed the queer little face that was hiding itself -from the light under his arm. He turned Carl slowly -round towards Mrs. Desborough. But no amount of -dirt, no scars, no scratches, could hide the truth from -his mother. She clasped him to her, exclaiming, "It -is ours—our own—our Carl!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can it be possible?" cried Bona.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"With God all things are possible," said the deputy -reverently. How Kathleen listened! The servants -were hurrying in with the steaming dishes of -roast-meat, game and fowl. The cloth had been laid an -hour ago, awaiting the return of the gentlemen. -There was little to do, but they made that little long -in their eagerness to catch sight of the lost and found. -At last they were all dismissed, and the doors made fast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, Iffley," said Mr. Desborough; and they -began to unwind the length of calico with which poor -Carly had been fettered. Between them they got -him at last into a clean pinafore of Horace's which -the ayah had brought.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then his mother took him on her lap; but how to -hold him was the difficulty. He wriggled and twisted -himself into all sorts of contortions. He had struck -with shoes and socks, and would have none of them, -and began his fearful howl once more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Quiet!" said Mr. Desborough, in a quick, decisive -tone; and the noise was hushed in a moment. But -the light was obviously painful to Carl. He put up -his hands, flickering his fingers before his eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He will howl again," said the major, "if we all -stand looking at him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Give him a bone," suggested Oliver, who was -going in for a good feed, a little quicker and faster -than etiquette allowed; but a day's starvation is no -joke, and everybody told him to help himself, and he -was just doing it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carl slid down from his mother's lap and sat under -the table sucking his bone contentedly. Presently -he gave a rough, hoarse cry that sounded very much -like "More." It was his first attempt to speak. -The wing of chicken on Kathleen's plate was in his -other hand in a moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We are getting on," said the major, looking down -at the two small heads beneath the table, whilst the -deputy was explaining to Mrs. Desborough where and -how they had found her child. It was a never-to-be-forgotten -hour: the storm was raging without, thankfulness -and wonder reigned within.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver grew eloquent as he described the amazing -sagacity of Rattam's old hunter. It was happiness -now to look back and see how slender was the thread -on which the poor child's fate had depended, and -how singularly it had been preserved in the midst of -unheard-of perils. Mrs. Desborough's eyes were -welling over as she thought of her long-lost darling, in -the midst of the wild beasts in a trackless koond, -yet fed and cherished! How?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By the mercy of our heavenly Father, as she truly -said, in the fervour of her mother's love. But she -did not see the way in which the wonderful escape -had been brought about. She knew nothing of the -double nature in the wolf; and they told her it was -safe in Rattam's cage. That there was any danger -yet for her child, from the very love of the wolves, -never crossed her mind; how could it?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had enough to think about. Her child was at -her feet, but it had forgotten its home. She saw it, -estranged and wild.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Call him by his name," said Mr. Desborough. -"Call him Carl every time you give him anything to -eat, and he will remember his name; if not, he will -soon learn it afresh. We must 'gentle' him, as the -grooms say, my dear. Never fear; we shall bring -him round."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carl had taken the wing of the chicken Kathleen -had brought him, and laid his other bone on the floor. -Kathleen still sat on the carpet by his side, with a -patience she had never shown to any one before. He -had even rubbed his head against her shoulder, when -the moongus, which had been asleep in one corner -of the room, aroused, and seeing an inviting bone, -stole up to it for a taste. Carl flew at it in savage -fury, tearing and raging. The scuffle which ensued -before the two were parted filled Mrs. Desborough -with many fears for Horace, who was happily in bed -and asleep before his brother was brought home. -But to the surprise of every one present, when -Mr. Desborough made his voice heard above the din of -the combatants, Carl was silent in a moment, and -dropped back on the floor in instantaneous obedience. -After a little while he came creeping to his father's -feet. Oh, it was piteous to see him so, and yet it -was hopeful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Kathleen, who was trembling all over, put her -moongus out of the room, and ran back with her lap -full of playthings. She had brought Carl's own old -drum that he used to be so fond of, and his horse and -cart, and a new steam-engine he had never seen. -"Perhaps," she thought, "he may remember these. They -were his favourites; and Racy always loves my engine." She -set it running on the floor before Carl's feet. -The major lifted up his corner of the tablecloth, that -he might watch the proceedings. Carl gave one of -his frog-like leaps, pounced on the swiftly-moving -toy, and snapped it in two with a cry of delight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Never mind, dear," said Mrs. Desborough, turning -to Kathleen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mind, mamma!" repeated Kathleen desperately; -"can I ever mind anything he does, when I know -that all this happened because I meddled with the -blind? You told me never to touch it, and all my -crying would not undo the mischief. Carl is better -than I am, mamma, for he has minded every word -papa has spoken."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This comforts me, Kathleen, more than anything -else," answered her mother fondly. "Always to obey -is the one great lesson for every child to learn, and it -cannot be learned too early. It is the foundation-stone -of all that is good in after life—a young child's -safeguard and its shield. If you both are careful to -obey, we shall soon bring Carly round, and all be -happy again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Kathleen hung her head in her self-reproachful -shame. She did not see the joy in her mother's eyes; -for there is no joy so dear to a mother's heart as the -joy of seeing her children try to overcome their faults, -and turn to all that is right and good.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No one else understood the whispered conversation; -they were all intent on Carl. Oliver took up the -drum and beat a jolly tune.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly Carl sprang up and listened. Yes, there -was a tiny creeping sound. It was only the lizard -from behind the picture-frame that hung over the -sideboard coming out for its crumbs, which Kathleen -gathered for it every day after dinner. It was a -pretty rose-pink creature, with a sharply-pointed tail -and bead-like eyes. It had grown so tame it ran -between the plates, helping itself as it liked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tic-tickee!" cried Carl, calling it by the Hindu -name his ayah had taught him, and grabbing at it -with both his hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Strange that he should remember the lizard, when -everything else was forgotten! Had he played with -the lizards in the forest? Oh, horror! he was going -to eat it. Bona nearly screamed. In her heart she -was almost as afraid of him as the Hindu servants, -and was thankful when the deputy talked of going, -for the storm was over.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you want us, Desborough," said Major Iffley, -"we are not so very far away. But you will tame -your young savage all the better when you are alone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were careful even in the moment of departure -not to leave a door ajar, for fear little Carl should try -to rush out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come and look at him to-morrow," replied -Mr. Desborough, "when a warm bath and his mother's -scissors have had their turn."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Leave the shoes and socks for a day or two—that -is my advice," laughed the deputy as he rode away, -splashing through the flood that still surrounded the -compound.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The horse which had been found for Oliver was -tired with its day's hard work, and would not keep -pace with his uncle's and Bona's. As he lagged -behind he heard a cow lowing in the moonlight. He -thought of the Thibetan when he saw the horned -head drinking at the stream which drained the road. -He rode up to it, looking for the scarlet necklet she -had described.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There it was, embroidered all over with tiny shells -in a most fanciful pattern. Laughing heartily to -think of so much ingenuity being wasted on a cow, -he drove it before him into the gates of Runnangore, -glad to have recovered one of the scattered herd for -their luckless owner. He was sure that Mr. Desborough -would look after her; but he meant to take -her a new blanket all the same.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-conclusion"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVI.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics large">THE CONCLUSION.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The sunrise found Old Gray Legs roaming through -the koond in search of his missing mate, whilst -the half-grown wolflings sat howling by the korinda -bush until the sun was high. The time for sleep had -come. They laid themselves down, but not to rest. -The most adventurous of them all had his ear on the -ground listening. It heard Old Gray Legs give tongue -as he found himself at last on the track of his mate. -Out they all rushed, scattering themselves over bush -and boulder to join him. They were scenting the -ground as they ran, and one of them alighted on the -path which Carl had taken with his furry protector. -Once on the scent of his lost playfellow, the keen -young wolf pursued him through all its windings to -the pit, which it had just light enough to avoid, then -up to the heights, and back to the very gate of -Mr. Desborough's compound, where it lay crouching among -the ferns.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The native servants were at their usual work. -Bene Madho was returning from the bazaar, with one -or two of the coolies carrying home his purchases. -The dandy-bearers, who went into the patches of -jungle to cut grass for the horses every day, were -coming back with their bundles on their heads. The -Thibetan was with them. She had gone out hoping -to see something of her straying cattle. Oliver, too, -had risen early. He wanted to tell her to come over -to Runnangore and claim her cow. In spite of her -rags and her losses she was a rich woman. She had -only to sell a few of her beads to buy a new herd. -Bona would gladly become their purchaser, so he made -this a reason for presenting himself at the gate of -Noak-holly by five o'clock in the morning. He did -not expect to see either Mr. or Mrs. Desborough at -such an hour, but he thought he might inquire of the -servants how the night had gone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In truth, it had gone queerly enough behind the -nursery purdah, where both father and mother had -been working at their precious little savage with -sponge, soap, and towel. The cutting of his hair was -terrible, and, worse than all, the cutting of his nails, -which had grown into veritable claws. The poor wee -child, so long a stranger to bath or hair-brush, hated -both. If his father had not been there to hold -him, it would not have been possible to wash him -clean from Tara's bird-lime. Painful as the tedious -process must have been, he was singularly obedient. -He seemed to like nothing so well as coiling himself -round on his mother's lap. But to get him to sleep -was an impossibility. Oh how his father longed for -the lulling influences of the water-shed on the hills! -Carl was continually racing after the toads and spiders, -making all sorts of strange noises, feeling his way -about the darkened room, and howling at each -unfamiliar sound. But morning dawned, and he began -to yawn and blink in the growing light. Suddenly -he gave one of his frog-like leaps, parting the chintz -curtains of the purdah with his head, and peeping -into the veranda. Mr. Desborough was nodding; but -mamma was close beside her boy, wondering what he -would do next. The servants were all astir, and the -gate was locked, so she let him take his first look -round by daylight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Another bound and he was over the veranda railing -into the garden, where he coiled himself round in -the middle of a bed of mignonnette, and settled for -sleep at last.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Better not disturb him," thought Mrs. Desborough. -"After so many months in the woods he could not -sleep indoors."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So she opened a large white sunshade over his -head, and sat down under an acacia tree to watch his -slumbers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Desborough was sleeping too, having had no -rest for two whole nights. She could not bear to -wake him, so she called up Kathleen. It was early; -but the early morning in India is delightful. The -ayah brought her, and returned to Horace, who had -not yet seen his brother.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Swarms of young frogs had appeared in the -veranda after last night's storm. The bhisti was -gathering them up, sweeping them into a pail to carry away -and put them somewhere outside the compound. -Kathleen amused herself with watching the round, -red insects which covered the grass, looking as if, -instead of a hailstorm, there had been a shower of -red velvet buttons, the rain had brought them out -in such numbers. The gardener was hoeing within call.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," thought Mrs. Desborough; "all safe at -home. All danger over now." Yet she could not -take her eyes off the little sleeper in the mignonnette.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When he awakens," she said to Kathleen, "we -will let him see Horace at play in the veranda. I -fear they have forgotten each other; but they are -twins, and the old love will revive. It will be safer -to have the veranda railing between them at first. -Racy is so trying, and if Carl grew cross he might -fly at his brother as he did at your moongus. We -will put the old red reins on Carl, so that he cannot -leap away unawares. Being with Racy will bring -Carl round sooner than anything else, if it is but safe -to let them be together."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whilst Mrs. Desborough was speaking the men -came in with their bundles of grass. As the gate -opened, in rushed the wolf with a cry. Up flew Carl -with a bound of delight to meet it. They tumbled -on the grass together in a tumult of ecstasy. -Mrs. Desborough's first thought was to lift up Kathleen -into the acacia under which they were sitting, while -she shrieked for help. At the sound of her voice and -of the running feet hurrying towards her from every -direction, the wolf stopped in its gambols, seized Carl -in its mouth, and was dragging him away. They -were nearly at the gate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come back, Carl! Carl, come back!" cried -Kathleen from the acacia boughs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Desborough ran out with his gun. He was -levelling it to take deadly aim, when he perceived the -close embrace with which Carl was clinging to the -wolf, and lowered it in despair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shut the gate!" he shouted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver and the Thibetan rushed into the garden.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Desborough saw Carl turn his head at the -sound of his sister's voice, and she repeated the call -in her desperation. His name rang loud and clear -above the clamour the servants were raising in their -usual fashion. Carl came as a well-trained dog obeys -his master, and, O horror! the young wolf with him. -She showered the cakes she had brought with her -across the grass towards him. Oliver snatched a -pitchfork from one of the grass-cutters and ran; but -the Thibetan, who was the nearest, seized the wolf by -the hind legs and held it fast. Oliver put the arching -tines of the pitchfork over its neck like a collar, -and drove the points into the ground until its head -was fixed but not hurt, and he leaned on the handle -with all his strength to keep it there. Oh for Tara -Ghur! but the old shikaree was far away, rejoicing -in his well-deserved and ample reward. Was there -nobody to help?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hold hard!" shouted Mr. Desborough, as he -rushed up white and resolute to pull the child away. -But Carl clung passionately to his furry playfellow. -The wolf had ceased to struggle, but it held his -pinafore in a grip of iron.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Desborough tore the thin muslin in two, and -forced the child backwards. Mrs. Desborough was -close beside him. She pushed the sweetest cake she -had into Carl's mouth to try to divert his attention. -He threw it to the wolf as he struggled to free -himself from his father's arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Booraba no hurt child," said the Thibetan, who -had watched the wolf and the child all night in the -shikaree's pit. "Young booraba like its bahee -[brother]. Hurt it, and child hate you all its life. -Cage it, child stop, feed booraba; no run away from -each other."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was so much sense in what she urged so -earnestly, Mr. Desborough was afraid to disregard it. -He looked around him, not knowing what to do for -the best. Then he shouted to the grass-cutters to -fetch the iron hurdles which divided the paddock -behind the garden. They ran across, pulled them up, -and flung them over the hedge of roses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile Bene Madho had fetched old Gobur to -the sahib's assistance. Mrs. Desborough had taken -off Kathleen's sash and knotted it round Carl's waist, -so that she could hold him whilst Mr. Desborough -fixed the hurdles firmly in the grass.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gobur came up with another pitchfork and put it -over the wolf's hind legs, fixing them to the ground, -as Oliver had fixed its head, to release the courageous -Thibetan. It was a trying moment for Oliver when -Mr. Desborough put down the fourth hurdle and shut -him in with the wolf and Gobur. It was a -tremendous effort to hold the wolf down, and he was -getting exhausted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Desborough saw this, and leaving his men to -make a threefold fence round the wolf, he leaned over -the hurdle and took the handle of the pitchfork from -him. The boldest of the syces followed his example, -and released Gobur. It was a moment of intense -relief to Mrs. Desborough when she saw them both -safely outside. The Thibetan was helping her to -control Carl, who was struggling to get free. Five -or six men were driving in the hurdles as fast as -they could, and in the noise of their hammering -Mrs. Desborough could no longer make herself heard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By Mr. Desborough's orders every hurdle on the -place was brought, until a perfect pyramid of iron -was piled over the prostrate wolf. After the -three-fold fence a row of hurdles were set endways between -the lines, slanting inwards, and over these another -tier was laid to form a roof, and another and another, -crossing each other in every direction. Before the -last corners were shut in the pitchforks were slowly -withdrawn, and young Fawnie was left unhurt to -examine the iron house which had been built over him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One hurdle at the top was so placed that it could -be withdrawn a little way, like a window-shutter. -Gobur climbed up and let down a pail of water.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All the while the men were at work, Carl and the -wolfling were crying to each other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The wolfling was not yet six months old, and had -not learned to be so wary as its mother. Yet it was -strangely quieted when it found itself a prisoner. -Not so Carl: he stamped, and sobbed, and kicked in -an agony of distress, because he was shut out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Give him his liberty," said Mr. Desborough. "Let -him run up to it if he likes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carl flew to the hurdles and tried to push between -their rails, whilst Fawnie, as Oliver called the wolfling, -worked at them from the inside. But the iron walls -of his prison were too firmly built to be shaken. A -frog leaped out of the grass. Fawnie snapped it up, -and brought it to give to Carl through his prison bars.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Mrs. Desborough realized how her darling -had been fed and kept alive in the trackless jungle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver was telling her of the old gray wolf now -in Rattam's cage, and the Thibetan repeated her -story.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The mother's feelings can be better imagined than -described when she saw thus clearly that the love of -the wild wolves had saved her child. Could she -doubt it?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ought we to think it impossible?" urged Oliver. -"In spite of all its savagery, the dog's nature is in -the wolf. It is the strong family feeling amongst -them which makes the pack. You see, I have heard -a great deal about them from Tara Ghur; and I shall -never forget that old wolf's face as she turned to Carl -in the pit."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gobur and the gardener were cutting off some long -branches from the nearest trees, to thatch poor Fawnie's -pyramid and shelter him from the sun.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver ran to help them, until Fawnie's den looked -like a gigantic heap of boughs. Then Oliver fetched -the gardener's syringe and drenched it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When Fawnie found it growing dark and cool as -the nest beneath the korinda bush, he laid himself -down and fell into the sound mid-day sleep of the -wild beast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But nothing short of force could drag Carl away, -and that was not to be thought of. Mr. Desborough -saw it would only embitter the child, and rouse and -exasperate the wolfling. He was hoping that if Carl -were left to himself he too would fall asleep. But -no; all sleep was gone. Carl kept on raging round -and round the pyramid, tugging with all his might at -the boughs which hid his furry friend.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Desborough lifted Kathleen down from the -acacia. Her presence had helped him so much in -getting Carl safely through his journey home. But -her brave little heart was failing her; she had been -terribly frightened at the sight of Fawnie, and she -clung to her mother, trembling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fetch Racy," said Mr. Desborough in despair. -"The sight of his twin-brother may draw the child -away. We must try something."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Desborough went herself, not daring to trust -any one else with the rebellious Racy in such -circumstances.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She soon reappeared, driving him before her on his -pretty bicycle-horse; while the ayah crept beside her, -her black face puckered with anxiety and fear as she -looked at the group on the lawn, and above all at the -portentous pyramid.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Horace, who could not understand what had happened, -flourished his whip and shouted to his heart's -content. He was highly delighted at having got -mamma to be his syce. She slowly drove him round -the lawn. Of course, he wanted to gallop off at once -to his father and Kathleen; but Mrs. Desborough -turned him back, so that Carl might see him. The -twins perceived each other at last, and drew together, -staring.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look, Racy, who is that sitting on the grass? -Can it be Carl—Racy's own lost Carl—come home at -last?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carl's eyes followed every movement of the pretty -brown horse with a strange bewilderment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Kathleen, with her father's arm round her, felt -her courage revive. She glanced up at him -inquiringly. He nodded. Away she ran to meet the -young equestrian, calling Carl to follow. Again he -obeyed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"O Racy!" she exclaimed, "we've found poor Carl. -Let us put him on your horse, and you and I will -drive him home, for fear we should lose him. You -push, and I will hold him on. Quick, dear, quick!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"God bless her," said Mr. Desborough; "she has -done it again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Racy tumbled out of his saddle. Mrs. Desborough -and the ayah lifted Carl into his place. He made no -resistance, but laid his face down and began to bite -the horse's ears. Kathleen seized the bridle. Racy -pushed manfully behind. Mrs. Desborough held one -arm and the ayah the other. Up ran the bhisti, who -stretched over Horace's head and lifted the horse and -its rider right up the veranda steps. As usual, the -hall door stood wide; in rode Carl, and Mrs. Desborough -locked it behind him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is up now?" exclaimed Major Iffley, as he -stopped at the familiar gate. "You have found out -something wrong about the place?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, an imperative necessity to leave it. I want -to make over the indigo factory to you for at least a -twelvemonth, whilst I take holiday with my wife -and children. We should never have rescued Carl if -he had not learned to obey, and now distance is our -best defence," said Mr. Desborough gravely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Done!" answered the major gaily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you go," put in Oliver earnestly, "give Fawnie -over to me. He is young enough to tame and train, -and I should be proud to own him. With a stout -chain and collar he will prove a noble dog."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>THE END.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 6em"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="backmatter"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst" id="pg-end-line"><span>*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>ALIVE IN THE JUNGLE</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="cleardoublepage"> -</div> -<div class="language-en level-2 pgfooter section" id="a-word-from-project-gutenberg" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<span id="pg-footer"></span><h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><span>A Word from Project Gutenberg</span></h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span>We will update this book if we find any errors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This book can be found under: </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/43595"><span>http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/43595</span></a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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. 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