The Day's Work..................................................................................................................................................1

Rudyard Kipling......................................................................................................................................1

The least that Findlayson, of the Public Works Department, expected was a C. I. E.; he dreamed of a C. S. I.:

indeed, his friends told him that he deserved more. For three years he had endured heat and cold,

disappointment, discomfort, danger, and disease, with responsibility almost too heavy for one pair of

shoulders; and day by day, through that time, the great Kashi Bridge over the Ganges had grown under his

charge. Now, in less than three months, if all went well, his Excellency the Viceroy would open the bridge in

state, an archbishop would bless it, and the first trainload of soldiers would come over it, and there would be

Findlayson, C. E., sat in his trolley on a construction line that ran along one of the main revetments the

huge stonefaced banks that flared away north and south for three miles on either side of the river and

permitted himself to think of the end. With its approaches, his work was one mile and threequarters fin

length; a latticegirder bridge, trussed with the Findlayson truss, standing on sevenandtwenty brick pies.

Each one of those piers was twentyfour feet in diameter, capped with red Agra stone and sunk eighty feet

below the shifting sand of the Ganges' bed. Above them was a railwayline fifteen feet broad; above that,

again, a cartroad of eighteen feet, flanked with footpaths. At either end rose towers of red brick, loopholed

for musketry and pierced for big guns, and the ramp of the road was being pushed forward to their haunches.

The raw earthends were crawling and alive with hundreds upon hundreds of tiny asses climbing out of the

yawning borrowpit below with sackfuls of stuff; and the hot afternoon air was filled with the noise of

hooves, the rattle of the drivers' sticks, and the swish and rolldown of the dirt. The river was very low, and

on the dazzling white sand between the three centre piers stood squat cribs of railwaysleepers, filled within

and daubed without with mud, to support the last of the girders as those were riveted up. In the little deep

water left by the drought, an overheadcrane travelled to and fro along its spilepier, jerking sections of iron

into place, snorting and backing and grunting as an elephant grunts in the timberyard. Riveters by the

hundred swarmed about the lattice sidework and the iron roof of the railwayline, hung from invisible

staging under the bellies of the girders, clustered round the throats of the piers, and rode on the overhang of

the footpathstanchions; their firepots and the spurts of flame that answered each hammerstroke showing

no more than pale yellow in the sun's glare. East and west and north and south the constructiontrains rattled

and shrieked up and down the embankments, the piled trucks of brown and white stone banging behind them

till the sideboards were unpinned, and with a roar and a grumble a few thousand tons more material were

Findlayson, C. E., turned on his trolley and looked over the face of the country that he had changed for seven

miles around. Looked back on the humming village of five thousand workmen; up stream and down, along

the vista of spurs and sand; across the river to the far piers, lessening in the haze; overhead to the

guardtowers and only he knew how strong those were and with a sigh of contentment saw that his work

was good. There stood his bridge before him in the sunlight, lacking only a few weeks' work on the girders of

the three middle piers his bridge, raw and ugly as original sin, but pukka permanent to endure when all

memory of the builder, yea, even of the splendid Findlayson truss, had perished. Practically, the thing was

Hitchcock, his assistant, cantered along the line on a little switchtailed Kabuli pony who through long

"I've been thinking about it," the senior answered. "Not half a bad job for two men, is it?"

"Oneand a half. Gad, what a Cooper's Hill cub I was when I came on the works!" Hitchcock felt very old in

the crowded experiences of the past three years, that had taught him power and responsibility.

"You were rather a colt," said Findlayson. "I wonder how you'll like going back to officework when this

"I shall hate it!" said the young man, and as he went on his eye followed Findlayson's, and he muttered, "Isn't

"I think we'll go up the service together," Findlayson said to himself. "You're too good a youngster to waste

on another man. Cub thou wart; assistant thou art. Personal assistant, and at Simla, thou shalt be, if any credit

Indeed; the burden of the work had fallen altogether on Findlayson and his assistant, the young man whom he

had chosen because of his rawness to break to his own needs. There were labour contractors by the

halfhundred fitters and riveters, European, borrowed from the railway workshops, with, perhaps, twenty

white and halfcaste subordinates to direct, under direction, the bevies of workmen but none knew better

than these two, who trusted each other, how the underlings were not to be trusted. They had been tried many

times in sudden crises by slipping of booms, by breaking of tackle, failure of cranes, and the wrath of the

river but no stress had brought to light any man among men whom Findlayson and Hitchcock would have

honoured by working as remorselessly as they worked themselves. Findlayson thought it over from the

beginning: the months of officework destroyed at a blow when the Government of India, at the last moment,

added two feet to the width of the bridge, under the impression that bridges were cut out of paper, and so

brought to ruin at least half an acre of calculations and Hitchcock, new to disappointment, buried his head

in his arms and wept; the heartbreaking delays over the filling of the contracts in England; the futile

correspondences hinting at great wealth of commissions if one, only one, rather doubtful consignment were

passed; the war that followed the refusal; the careful, polite obstruction at the other end that followed the war,

till young Hitchcock, putting one month's leave to another month, and borrowing ten days from Findlayson,

spent his poor little savings of a year in a wild dash to London, and there, as his own tongue asserted and the

later consignments proved, put the fear of God into a man so great that he feared only Parliament and said so

till Hitchcock wrought with him across his own dinnertable, and he feared the Kashi Bridge and all who

spoke in its name. Then there was the cholera that came in the night to the village by the bridge works; and

after the cholera smote the Smallpox. The fever they had always with them. Hitchcock had been appointed a

magistrate of the third class with whipping powers, for the better government of the community, and

Findlayson watched him wield his powers temperately, learning what to overlook and what to look after. It

was a long, long reverie, and it covered storm, sudden freshets, death in every manner and shape, violent and

awful rage against red tape half frenzying a mind that knows it should be busy on other things; drought,

sanitation, finance; birth, wedding, burial, and riot in the village of twenty warring castes; argument,

expostulation, persuasion, and the blank despair that a man goes to bed upon, thankful that his rifle is all in

pieces in the guncase. Behind everything rose the black frame of the Kashi Bridge plate by plate, girder

by girder, span by spanand each pier of it recalled Hitchcock, the allround man, who had stood by his chief

So the bridge was two men's work unless one counted Peroo, as Peroo certainly counted himself. He was a

Lascar, a Kharva from Bulsar, familiar with every port between Rockhampton and London, who had risen to

the rank of sarang on the British India boats, but wearying of routine musters and clean clothes, had thrown

up the service and gone inland, where men of his calibre were sure of employment. For his knowledge of

tackle and the handling of heavy weights, Peroo was worth almost any price he might have chosen to put

upon his services; but custom decreed the wage of the overhead men, and Peroo was not within many silver

pieces of his proper value. Neither running water nor extreme heights made him afraid; and, as an exserang,

he knew how to hold authority. No piece of iron was so big or so badly placed that Peroo could not devise a

tackle to lift it a looseended, sagging arrangement, rigged with a scandalous amount of talking, but

perfectly equal to the work in hand. It was Peroo who had saved the girder of Number Seven pier from

destruction when the new wire rope jammed in the eye of the crane, and the huge plate tilted in its slings,

threatening to slide out sideways. Then the native workmen lost their heads with great shoutings, and

Hitchcock's right arm was broken by a falling Tplate, and he buttoned it up in his coat and swooned, and

came to and directed for four hours till Peroo, from the top of the crane, reported "All's well," and the plate

swung home. There was no one like Peroo, serang, to lash, and guy, and hold to control the donkeyengines,

to hoist a fallen locomotive craftily out of the borrowpit into which it had tumbled; to strip, and dive, if need

be, to see how the concrete blocks round the piers stood the scouring of Mother Gunga, or to adventure

upstream on a monsoon night and report on the state of the embankmentfacings. He would interrupt the

fieldcouncils of Findlayson and Hitchcock without fear, till his wonderful English, or his still more

wonderful lingua franca, half Portuguese and half Malay, ran out and he was forced to take string and show

the knots that he would recommend. He controlled his own gang of tacklemen mysterious relatives from

Kutch Mandvi gathered month by month and tried to the uttermost. No consideration of family or kin allowed

Peroo to keep weak hands or a giddy head on the payroll. "My honour is the honour of this bridge," he

would say to the abouttobedismissed. "What do I care for your honour? Go and work on a steamer. That is

The little cluster of huts where he and his gang lived centred round the tattered dwelling of a seapriest one

who had never set foot on black water, but had been chosen as ghostly counsellor by two generations of

searovers all unaffected by port missions or those creeds which are thrust upon sailors by agencies along

Thames bank. The priest of the Lascara had nothing to do with their caste, or indeed with anything at all. He

ate the offerings of his church, and slept and smoked, and slept again "for," said Peroo, who had haled him a

thousand miles inland, "he is a very holy man. He never cares what you eat so long as you do not eat beef,

and that is good, because on land we worship Shiva, we Kharvas; but at sea on the Kumpani's boats we attend

strictly to the orders of the Burra Malum [the first mate], and on this bridge we observe what Finlinson Sahib

Finlinson Sahib had that day given orders to clear the scaffolding from the guardtower on the right bank,

and Peroo with his mates was casting loose and lowering down the bamboo poles and planks as swiftly as

>From his trolley he could hear the whistle of the serang's silver pipe and the creak and clatter of the pulleys.

Peroo was standing on the topmost coping of the tower, clad in the blue dungaree of his abandoned service,

and as Findlayson motioned to him to be careful, for his was no life to throw away, he gripped the last pole,

and, shading his eyes shipfashion, answered with the longdrawn wail of the fo'c'sle lookout: "Ham dekhta

hai " ("I am looking out"). Findlayson laughed and then sighed. It was years since he had seen a steamer, and

he was sick for home. As his trolley passed under the tower, Peroo descended by a rope, apefashion, and

cried: "It looks well now, Sahib. Our bridge is all but done. What think you Mother Gunga will say when the

"There is always time for her; and none the less there has been delay. Has the Sahib forgotten last autumn's

flood, when the stoneboats were sunk without warning or only a halfday's warning? "

"Yes, but nothing save a big flood could hurt us now. The spurs are holding well on the west bank."

"Mother Gunga eats great allowances. There is always room for more stone on the revetments. I tell this to

"No matter, Peroo. Another year thou wilt be able to build a bridge in thine own fashion."

The Lascar grinned. "Then it will not be in this way with stonework sunk under water, as the Quetta was

sunk. I like sussuspensheen bridges that fly from bank to bank, with one big step, like a gangplank. Then

"Ho! ho! He is like the Burra Malum. He sleeps below while the work is being done. Then he comes upon the

quarterdeck and touches with his finger, and says: 'This is not clean! Dam jibboonwallah!'"

"No, Sahib; but he does not come on deck till the work is all finished. Even the Burra Malum of the

"I, also!" said Peroo, with an unshaken countenance. "May I take the light dinghy now and row along the

"Nay, Sahib. It is thus. At sea, on the Black Water, we have room to be blown up and down without care.

Here we have no room at all. Look you, we have put the river into a dock, and run her between stone sills."

"We have bitted and bridled her. She is not like the sea, that can beat against a soft beach. She is Mother

"Peroo, thou hast been up and down the world more even than I. Speak true talk, now. How much dolt thou in

"All that our priest says. London is London, Sahib. Sydney is Sydney, and Port Darwin is Port Darwin. Also

Mother Gunga is Mother Gunga, and when I come back to her banks I know this and worship. In London I

did poojah to the big temple by the river for the sake of the God within . . . . Yes, I will not take the cushions

Findlayson mounted his horse and trotted to the shed of a bungalow that he shared with his assistant. The

place had become home to him in the last three years. He had grilled in the heat, sweated in the rains, and

shivered with fever under the rude thatch roof; the limewash beside the door was covered with rough

drawings and formulae, and the sentrypath trodden in the matting of the verandah showed where he had

walked alone. There is no eighthour limit to an engineer's work, and the evening meal with Hitchcock was

eaten booted and spurred: over their cigars they listened to the hum of the village as the gangs came up from

"Peroo has gone up the spurs in your dinghy. He's taken a couple of nephews with him, and he's lolling in the

"That's all right. He's got something on his mind. You'd think that ten years in the British India boats would

"So it has," said Hitchcock, chuckling. "I overheard him the other day in the middle of a most atheistical talk

with that fat old guru of theirs. Peroo denied the efficacy of prayer; and wanted the guru to go to sea and

"All the same, if you carried off his gurus he'd leave us like a shot. He was yarning away to me about praying

"He told me that the first time he went into the engineroom of a steamer, when he was a boy, he prayed to

"Not half a bad thing to pray to, either. He's propitiating his own Gods now, and he wants to know what

Mother Gunga will think of a bridge being run across her. Who's there?" A shadow darkened the doorway,

"She ought to be pretty well used to it by this time. Only a tar. It ought to be Ralli's answer about the new

"What is it?" said the senior, and took the form. "That's what Mother Gunga thinks, is it," he said, reading.

"Keep cool, young'un. We've got all our work cut out for us. Let's see. Muir wired half an hour ago: 'Floods

on the Ramgunga. Look out.' Well, that gives us one, two nine and a half for the flood to reach Melipur

Ghaut and seven's sixteen and a half to Lataoli say fifteen hours before it comes down to us."

"Curse that hillfed sewer of a Ramgunga! Findlayson, this is two months before anything could have been

expected, and the left bank is littered up with stuff still. Two full months before the time!"

" That's why it comes. I've only known Indian rivers for fiveandtwenty years, and I don't pretend to

understand. Here comes another tar." Findlayson opened the telegram. "Cockran, this time, from the Ganges

Canal: 'Heavy rains here. Bad.' He might have saved the last word. Well, we don't want to know any more.

We've got to work the gangs all night and clean up the riverbed. You'll take the east bank and work out to

meet me in the middle. Get every thing that floats below the bridge: we shall have quite enough rivercraft

coming down adrift anyhow, without letting the stoneboats ram the piers. What have you got on the east

"Pontoon one big pontoon with the overhead crane on it. T'other overhead crane on the mended pontoon,

with the cartroad rivets from Twenty to Twentythree piers two construction lines, and a turningspur.

All right. Roll up everything you can lay hands on. We'll give the gang fifteen minutes more to eat their

Close to the verandah stood a big nightgong, never used except for flood, or fire in the village. Hitchcock

had called for a fresh horse, and was off to his side of the bridge when Findlayson took the clothbound stick

and smote with the rubbing stroke that brings out the full thunder of the metal.

Long before the last rumble ceased every nightgong in the village had taken up the warning. To these were

added the hoarse screaming of conches in the little temples; the throbbing of drums and tomtoms; and, from

the European quarters, where the riveters lived, McCartney's bugle, a weapon of offence on Sundays and

festivals, brayed desperately, calling to "Stables." Engine after engine toiling home along the spurs at the end

of her day's work whistled in answer till the whistles were answered from the far bank. Then the big gong

thundered thrice for a sign that it was flood and not fire; conch, drum, and whistle echoed the call, and the

village quivered to the sound of bare feet running upon soft earth. The order in all cases was to stand by the

day's work and wait instructions. The gangs poured by in the dusk; men stopping to knot a loincloth or

fasten a sandal; gangforemen shouting to their subordinates as they ran or paused by the toolissue sheds

for bars and mattocks; locomotives creeping down their tracks wheeldeep in the crowd; till the brown

torrent disappeared into the dusk of the riverbed, raced over the pilework, swarmed along the lattices,

Then the troubled beating of the gong carried the order to take up everything and bear it beyond highwater

mark, and the flarelamps broke out by the hundred between the webs of dull iron as the riveters began a

night's work, racing against the flood that was to come. The girders of the three centre piers those that stood

on the cribs were all but in position. They needed just as many rivets as could be driven into them, for the

flood would assuredly wash out their supports, and the ironwork would settle down on the caps of stone if

they were not blocked at the ends. A hundred crowbars strained at the sleepers of the temporary line that fed

the unfinished piers. It was heaved up in lengths, loaded into trucks, and backed up the bank beyond

floodlevel by the groaning locomotives. The toolsheds on the sands melted away before the attack of

shouting armies, and with them went the stacked ranks of Government stores, ironbound boxes of rivets,

pliers, cutters, duplicate parts of the rivetingmachines, spare pumps and chains. The big crane would be the

last to be shifted, for she was hoisting all the heavy stuff up to the main structure of the bridge. The concrete

blocks on the fleet of stoneboats were dropped overside, where there was any depth of water, to guard the

piers, and the empty boats themselves were poled under the bridge downstream. It was here that Peroo's

pipe shrilled loudest, for the first stroke of the big gong had brought the dinghy back at racing speed, and

Peroo and his people were stripped to the waist, working for the honour and credit which are better than life.

"I knew she would speak," he cried. "I knew, but the telegraph gives us good warning. O sons of unthinkable

begetting children of unspeakable shame are we here for the look of the thing?" It was two feet of

wirerope frayed at the ends, and it did wonders as Peroo leaped from gunnel to gunnel, shouting the

Findlayson was more troubled for the stoneboats than anything else. McCartney, with his gangs, was

blocking up the ends of the three doubtful spans, but boats adrift, if the flood chanced to be a high one, might

"Get them behind the swell of the guardtower," he shouted down to Peroo. "It will be deadwater there. Get

"Accha! [Very good.] I know; we are mooring them with wirerope," was the answer. " Heh! I Listen to the

>From across the river came an almost continuous whistling of locomotives, backed by the rumble of stone.

Hitchcock at the last minute was spending a few hundred more trucks of Tarakee stone in reinforcing his

"The bridge challenges Mother Gunga," said Peroo, with a laugh. "But when she talks I know whose voice

For hours the naked men worked, screaming and shouting under the lights. It was a hot, moonless night; the

end of it was darkened by clouds and a sudden squall that made Findlayson very grave.

"She moves! " said Peroo, just before the dawn. "Mother Gunga is awake! Hear!" He dipped his hand over

the side of a boat and the current mumbled on it. A little wave hit the side of a pier with a crisp slap.

"Six hours before her time," said Findlayson, mopping his forehead savagely. "Now we can't depend on

Again the big gong beat, and a second time there was the rushing of naked feet on earth and ringing iron; the

clatter of tools ceased. In the silence, men heard the dry yawn of water crawling over thirsty sand.

Foreman after foreman shouted to Findlayson, who had posted himself by the guardtower, that his section of

the riverbed had been cleaned out, and when the last voice dropped Findlayson hurried over the bridge till

the iron plating of the permanent way gave place to the temporary plankwalk over the three centre piers, and

"All clear your side?" said Findlayson. The whisper rang in the box of latticework.

"Yes, and the east channel's filling now. We're utterly out of our reckoning. When is this thing down on us?"

"There's no saying. She's filling as fast as she can. Look!" Findlayson pointed to the planks below his feet,

where the sand, burned and defiled by months of work, was beginning to whisper and fizz.

"Call the roll count stores sit on your hunkers and pray for the bridge. That's all I can think of. Good

night. Don't risk your life trying to fish out anything that may go downstream."

"Oh, I'll be as prudent as you are! 'Night. Heavens, how she's filling! Here's the rain in earnest!" Findlayson

picked his way back to his bank, sweeping the last of McCartney's riveters before him. The gangs had spread

themselves along the embankments, regardless of the cold rain of the dawn, and there they waited for the

flood. Only Peroo kept his men together behind the swell of the guardtower, where the stoneboats lay tied

A shrill wail ran along the line, growing to a yell, half fear and half wonder: the face of the river whitened

from bank to bank between the stone facings, and the faraway spurs went out in spouts of foam. Mother

Gunga had come bankhigh in haste, and a wall of chocolatecoloured water was her messenger. There was

a shriek above the roar of the water, the complaint of the spans coming down on their blocks as the cribs were

whirled out from under their bellies. The stoneboats groaned and ground each other in the eddy that swung

round the abutment, and their clumsy masts rose higher and higher against the dim skyline.

"Before she was shut between these walls we knew what she would do. Now she is thus cramped God only

knows what she will do!" said Peroo, watching the furious turmoil round the guardtower. "Ohe! Fight, then!

But Mother Gunga would not fight as Peroo desired. After the first downstream plunge there came no more

walls of water, but the river lifted herself bodily, as a snake when she drinks in midsummer, plucking and

fingering along the revetments, and banking up behind the piers till even Findlayson began to recalculate the

When day came the village gasped. "Only last night," men said, turning to each other," it was as a town in the

And they looked and wondered afresh at the deep water, the racing water that licked the throat of the piers.

The farther bank was veiled by rain, into which the bridge ran out and vanished; the spurs upstream were

marked by no more than eddies and spoutings, and downstream the pent river, once freed of her

guidelines, had spread like a sea to the horizon. Then hurried by, rolling in the water, dead men and oxen

together, with here and there a patch of thatched roof that melted when it touched a pier.

"Big flood," said Peroo, and Findlayson nodded. It was as big a flood as he had any wish to watch. His bridge

would stand what was upon her now, but not very much more, and if by any of a thousand chances there

happened to be a weakness in the embankments, Mother Gunga would carry his honour to the sea with the

other raffle. Worst of all, there was nothing to do except to sit still; and Findlayson sat still under his

macintosh till his helmet became pulp on his head, and his boots were overankle in mire. He took no count

of time, for the river was marking the hours, inch by inch and foot by foot, along the embankment, and he

listened, numb and hungry, to the straining of the stoneboats, the hollow thunder under the piers, and the

hundred noises that make the full note of a flood. Once a dripping servant brought him food, but he could not

eat; and once he thought that he heard a faint toot from a locomotive across the river, and then he smiled. The

bridge's failure would hurt his assistant not a little, but Hitchcock was a young man with his big work yet to

do. For himself the crash meant everything everything that made a hard life worth the living. They would

say, the men of his own profession . . . he remembered the half pitying things that he himself had said when

Lockhart's new waterworks burst and broke down in brickheaps and sludge, and Lockhart's spirit broke in

him and he died. He remembered what he himself had said when the Sumao Bridge went out in the big

cyclone by the sea; and most he remembered poor Hartopp's face three weeks later, when the shame had

marked it. His bridge was twice the size of Hartopp's, and it carried the Findlayson truss as well as the new

piershoe the Findlayson bolted shoe. There were no excuses in his service. Government might listen,

perhaps, but his own kind would judge him by his bridge, as that stood or fell. He went over it in his head,

plate by plate, span by span, brick by brick, pier by pier, remembering, comparing, estimating, and

recalculating, lest there should be any mistake; and through the long hours and through the flights of

formulae that danced and wheeled before him a cold fear would come to pinch his heart. His side of the sum

was beyond question; but what man knew Mother Gunga's arithmetic? Even as he was making all sure by the

multiplicationtable, the river might be scooping a pothole to the very bottom of any one of those

eightyfoot piers that carried his reputation. Again a servant came to him with food, but his mouth was dry,

and he could only drink and return to the decimals in his brain. And the river was still rising. Peroo, in a mat

sheltercoat, crouched at his feet, watching now his face and now the face of the river, but saying nothing.

At last the Lascar rose and floundered through the mud towards the village, but he was careful to leave an

Presently he returned, most irreverently driving before him the priest of his creed a fat old man, with a grey

beard that whipped the wind with the wet cloth that blew over his shoulder. Never was seen so lamentable a

"What good are offerings and little kerosene lamps and dry grain," shouted Peroo, " if squatting in the mud is

all that thou canst do? Thou hast dealt long with the Gods when they were contented and wellwishing. Now

"What is a man against the wrath of Gods?" whined the priest, cowering as the wind took him. "Let me go to

"Son of a pig, pray here! Is there no return for salt fish and curry powder and dried onions? Call aloud! Tell

Mother Gunga we have had enough. Bid her be still for the night. I cannot pray, but I have been serving in the

Kumpani's boats, and when men did not obey my orders I " A flourish of the wirerope colt rounded the

"Fat pig!" said Peroo. "After all that we have done for him! When the flood is down I will see to it that we get

a new guru. Finlinson Sahib, it darkens for night now, and since yesterday nothing has been eaten. Be wise,

Sahib. No man can endure watching and great thinking on an empty belly. Lie down, Sahib. The river will do

"Wilt thou hold it up with thy hands, then?" said Peroo, laughing. "I was troubled for my boats and sheers

before the flood came. Now we are in the hands of the Gods. The Sahib will not eat and lie down? Take

these, then. They are meat and good toddy together, and they kill all weariness, besides the fever that follows

He took a small tin tobaccobox from his sodden waistbelt and thrust it into Findlayson's hand, saying " Nay,

Findlayson shook two or three of the darkbrown pellets into his hand, and hardly knowing what he did,

swallowed them. The stuff was at least a good guard against fever the fever that was creeping upon him out

of the wet mud and he had seen what Peroo could do in the stewing mists of autumn on the strength of a

Peroo nodded with bright eyes. "In a little in a little the Sahib will find that he thinks well again. I too will

" He dived into his treasurebox, resettled the raincoat over his head, and squatted down to watch the

boats. It was too dark now to see beyond the first pier, and the night seemed to have given the river new

strength. Findlayson stood with his chin on his chest, thinking. There was one point about one of the piers

the seventh that he had not fully settled in his mind. The figures would not shape themselves to the eye

except one by one and at enormous intervals of time. There was a sound rich and mellow in his ears like the

deepest note of a doublebass an entrancing sound upon which he pondered for several hours, as it seemed.

Then Peroo was at his elbow, shouting that a wire hawser had snapped and the stoneboats were loose.

Findlayson saw the fleet open and swing out fanwise to a longdrawn shriek of wire straining across gunnels.

"A tree hit them. They will all go," cried Peroo. "The main hawser has parted. What does the Sahib do? "

An immensely complex plan had suddenly flashed into Findlayson's mind. He saw the ropes running from

boat to boat in straight lines and angles each rope a line of white fire. But there was one rope which was the

master rope. He could see that rope. If he could pull it once, it was absolutely and mathematically certain that

the disordered fleet would reassemble itself in the backwater behind the guardtower. But why, he wondered,

was Peroo clinging so desperately to his waist as he hastened down the bank? It was necessary to put the

Lascar aside, gently and slowly, because it was necessary to save the boats, and, further, to demonstrate the

extreme ease of the problem that looked so difficult. And then but it was of no conceivable importance a

wirerope raced through his hand, burning it, the high bank disappeared, and with it all the slowly dispersing

factors of the problem. He was sitting in the rainy darkness sitting in a boat that spun like a top, and Peroo

"I had forgotten," said the Lascar, slowly, "that to those fasting and unused, the opium is worse than any

wine. Those who die in Gunga go to the Gods. Still, I have no desire to present myself before such great ones.

"He is mad!" muttered Peroo, under his breath. "And he threw me aside like a bundle of dungcakes. Well,

he will not know his death. The boat cannot live an hour here even if she strike nothing. It is not good to look

He refreshed himself again from the tin box, squatted down in the bows of the reeling, pegged, and stitched

craft, staring through the mist at the nothing that was there. A warm drowsiness crept over Findlayson, the

Chief Engineer, whose duty was with his bridge. The heavy raindrops struck him with a thousand tingling

little thrills, and the weight of all time since time was made hung heavy on his eyelids. He thought and

perceived that he was perfectly secure, for the water was so solid that a man could surely step out upon it,

and, standing still with his legs apart to keep his balance this was the most important point would be

borne with great and easy speed to the shore. But yet a better plan came to him. It needed only an exertion of

will for the soul to hurl the body ashore as wind drives paper, to waft it kitefashion to the bank. Thereafter

the boat spun dizzily suppose the high wind got under the freed body? Would it tower up like a kite and

pitch headlong on the faraway sands, or would it duck about, beyond control, through all eternity?

Findlayson gripped the gunnel to anchor himself, for it seemed that he was on the edge of taking the flight

before he had settled all his plans. Opium has more effect on the white man than the black. Peroo was only

comfortably indifferent to accidents. "She cannot live," he grunted. "Her seams open already. If she were

even a dinghy with oars we could have ridden it out; but a box with holes is no good. Finlinson Sahib, she

In his mind, Findlayson had already escaped from the boat, and was circling high in air to find a rest for the

sole of his foot. His body he was really sorry for its gross helplessness lay in the stern, the water rushing

"How very ridiculous!" he said to himself, from his eyrie "that is Findlayson chief of the Kashi Bridge.

The poor beast is going to be drowned, too. Drowned when it's close to shore. I'm I'm onshore already.

To his intense disgust, he found his soul back in his body again, and that body spluttering and choking in

deep water. The pain of the reunion was atrocious, but it was necessary, also, to fight for the body. He was

conscious of grasping wildly at wet sand, and striding prodigiously, as one strides in a dream, to keep

foothold in the swirling water, till at last he hauled himself clear of the hold of the river, and dropped,

"Not this night," said Peroo, in his ear. "The Gods have protected us." The Lascar moved his feet cautiously,

and they rustled among dried stumps. "This is some island of last year's indigocrop," he went on. "We shall

find no men here; but have great care, Sahib; all the snakes of a hundred miles have been flooded out. Here

comes the lightning, on the heels of the wind. Now we shall be able to look; but walk carefully."

Findlayson was far and far beyond any fear of snakes, or indeed any merely human emotion. He saw, after he

had rubbed the water from his eyes, with an immense clearness, and trod, so it seemed to himself, with

worldencompassing strides. Somewhere in the night of time he had built a bridge a bridge that spanned

illimitable levels of shining seas; but the Deluge had swept it away, leaving this one island under heaven for

An incessant lightning, forked and blue, showed all that there was to be seen on the little patch in the flood

a clump of thorn, a clump of swaying creaking bamboos, and a grey gnarled peepul overshadowing a Hindoo

shrine, from whose dome floated a tattered red flag. The holy man whose summer restingplace it was had

long since abandoned it, and the weather had broken the reddaubed image of his god. The two men

stumbled, heavy limbed and heavyeyed, over the ashes of a brickset cookingplace, and dropped down

The stumps of the indigo crackled, and there was a smell of cattle, as a huge and dripping Brahminee bull

shouldered his way under the tree. The flashes revealed the trident mark of Shiva on his flank, the insolence

of head and hump, the luminous staglike eyes, the brow crowned with a wreath of sodden marigold blooms,

and the silky dewlap that almost swept the ground. There was a noise behind him of other beasts coming up

from the floodline through the thicket, a sound of heavy feet and deep breathing.

"Here be more beside ourselves," said Findlayson, his head against the treepole, looking through halfshut

"Ah, true! The Gods surely the Gods." Findlayson smiled as his head fell forward on his chest. Peroo was

eminently right. After the Flood, who should be alive in the land except the Gods that made it the Gods to

whom his village prayed nightly the Gods who were in all men's mouths and about all men's ways. He

could not raise his head or stir a finger for the trance that held him, and Peroo was smiling vacantly at the

The Bull paused by the shrine, his head lowered to the damp earth. A green Parrot in the branches preened his

wet wings and screamed against the thunder as the circle under the tree filled with the shifting shadows of

beasts. There was a black Buck at the Bull's heels such a Buck as Findlayson in his faraway life upon

earth might have seen in dreams a Buck with a royal head, ebon back, silver belly, and gleaming straight

horns. Beside him, her head bowed to the ground, the green eyes burning under the heavy brows, with

restless tail switching the dead grass, paced a Tigress, fullbellied and deepjowled.

The Bull crouched beside the shrine, and there leaped from the darkness a monstrous grey Ape, who seated

himself manwise in the place of the fallen image, and the rain spilled like jewels from the hair of his neck

Other shadows came and went behind the circle, among them a drunken Man flourishing staff and

drinkingbottle. Then a hoarse bellow broke out from near the ground. "The flood lessens even now," it

"My bridge," said Findlayson to himself. "That must be very old work now. What have the Gods to do with

His eyes rolled in the darkness following the roar. A Mugger the bluntnosed, fordhaunting Mugger of

the Ganges draggled herself before the beasts, lashing furiously to right and left with her tail.

"They have made it too strong for me. In all this night I have only torn away a handful of planks. The walls

stand. The towers stand. They have chained my flood, and the river is not free any more. Heavenly Ones, take

this yoke away! Give me clear water between bank and bank! It is I, Mother Gunga, that speak. The Justice of

"What said I?" whispered Peroo. "This is in truth a Punchayet of the Gods. Now we know that all the world is

The Parrot screamed and fluttered again, and the Tigress, her ears flat to her head, snarled wickedly.

Somewhere in the shadow, a great trunk and gleaming tusks swayed to and fro, and a low gurgle broke the

"We be here," said a deep voice, " the Great Ones. One only and very many. Shiv, my father, is here, with

"Kashi is without her Kotwal tonight," shouted the Man with the drinkingbottle, flinging his staff to the

ground, while the island rang to the baying of hounds. "Give her the Justice of the Gods."

"Ye were still when they polluted my waters," the great Crocodile bellowed. "Ye made no sign when my

river was trapped between the walls. I had no help save my own strength, and that failed the strength of

Mother Gunga failed before their guardtowers. What could I do? I have done everything. Finish now,

"I brought the death; I rode the spotted sickness from hut to hut of their workmen, and yet they would not

cease." A noseslitten, hideworn Ass, lame, scissorlegged, and galled, limped forward. "I cast the death at

"Bah!" he said, spitting. "Here is Sitala herself; Mata the smallpox. Has the Sahib a handkerchief to put

"Little help! They fed me the corpses for a month, and I flung them out on my sandbars, but their work went

forward. Demons they are, and sons of demons! And ye left Mother Gunga alone for their firecarriage to

The Bull turned the cud in his mouth and answered slowly: "If the Justice of the Gods caught all who made a

"But this goes beyond a mock," said the Tigress, darting forward a griping paw. "Thou knowest, Shiv, and ye,

too, Heavenly Ones; ye know that they have defiled Gunga. Surely they must come to the Destroyer. Let

"Does Mother Gunga die, then, in a year, that she is so anxious to see vengeance now? The deep sea was

where she runs but yesterday, and tomorrow the sea shall cover her again as the Gods count that which men

call time. Can any say that this their bridge endures till tomorrow?" said the Buck.

There was along hush, and in the clearing of the storm the full moon stood up above the dripping trees.

"Judge ye, then," said the River, sullenly. "I have spoken my shame. The flood falls still. I can do no more."

"For my own part" it was the voice of the great Ape seated within the shrine "it pleases me well to watch

these men, remembering that I also builded no small bridge in the world's youth."

"They say, too," snarled the Tiger, "that these men came of the wreck of thy armies, Hanuman, and therefore

"They toil as my armies toiled in Lanka, and they believe that their toil endures. Indra is too high, but Shiv,

"Their Gods! What should their Gods know? They were born yesterday, and those that made them are

"Ho!" said Peroo. "Mother Gunga talks good talk. I told that to the padresahib who preached on the

Mombassa, and he asked the Burra Malum to put me in irons for a great rudeness."

"Not altogether," the Elephant rolled forth. "It is for the profit of my mahajuns fat moneylenders that

worship me at each new year, when they draw my image at the head of the accountbooks. I, looking over

their shoulders by lamplight, see that the names in the books are those of men in far places for all the towns

are drawn together by the firecarriage, and the money comes and goes swiftly, and the accountbooks grow

"They have changed the face of the landwhich is my land. They have killed and made new towns on my

"It is but the shifting of a little dirt. Let the dirt dig in the dirt if it pleases the dirt," answered the Elephant.

"But afterwards? "said the Tiger. "Afterwards they will see that Mother Gunga can avenge no insult, and they

fall away from her first, and later from us all, one by one. In the end, Ganesh, we are left with naked altars."

"Kali lies. My sister lies. Also this my stick is the Kotwal of Kashi, and he keeps tally of my pilgrims. When

the time comes to worship Bhairon and it is always time the firecarriages move one by one, and each

hears a thousand pilgrims. They do not come afoot any more, but rolling upon wheels, and my honour is

"Gunga, I have seen thy bed at Pryag black with the pilgrims," said the Ape, leaning forward, "and but for the

"They come to me always," Bhairon went on thickly. "By day and night they pray to me, all the Common

People in the fields and the roads. Who is like Bhairon today? What talk is this of changing faiths? Is my staff

Kotwal of Kashi for nothing? He keeps the tally, and he says that never were so many altars as today, and the

fire carriage serves them well. Bhairon am I Bhairon of the Common People, and the chiefest of tithe

"Peace, thou!" lowed the Bull. "The worship of the schools is mine, and they talk very wisely, asking whether

I be one or many, as is the delight of my people, and ye know what I am. Kali, my wife, thou knowest also."

"Greater am I than Gunga also. For ye know who moved the minds of men that they should count Gunga holy

among the rivers. Who die in that water ye know how men say come to us without punishment, and

Gunga knows that the firecarriage has borne to her scores upon scores of such anxious ones; and Kali knows

that she has held her chiefest festivals among the pilgrimages that are fed by the firecarriage. Who smote at

Pooree, under the Image there, her thousands in a day and a night, and bound the sickness to the wheels of the

firecarriages, so that it ran from one end of the land to the other? Who but Kali? Before the firecarriage

came it was a heavy toil. The firecarriages have served thee well, Mother of Death. But I speak for mine

own altars, who am not Bhairon of the Common Folk, but Shiv. Men go to and fro, making words and telling

talk of strange Gods, and I listen. Faith follows faith among my people in the schools, and I have no anger;

for when all words are said, and the new talk is ended, to Shiv men return at the last."

"True. It is true," murmured Hanuman. "To Shiv and to the others, mother, they return. I creep from temple to

temple in the North, where they worship one God and His Prophet; and presently my image is alone within

"Small thanks," said the Buck, turning his head slowly. "I am that One and His Prophet also."

"Even so, father," said Hanuman. "And to the South I go who am the oldest of the Gods as men know the

Gods, and presently I touch the shrines of the New 'Faith and the Woman whom we know is hewn

"Even so, sister; and I go West among the firecarriages, and stand before the bridgebuilders in many

shapes, and because of me they change their faiths and are very wise. Ho! ho! I am the builder of bridges,

indeed bridges between this and that, and each bridge leads surely to Us in the end. Be content, Gunga.

"Am I alone, then, Heavenly Ones? Shall I smooth out my flood lest unhappily I bear away their walls? Will

Indra dry my springs in the hills and make me crawl humbly between their wharfs? Shall I bury me in the

"And all for the sake of a little iron bar with the firecarriage atop. Truly, Mother Gunga is always young!"

said Ganesh the Elephant. "A child had not spoken more foolishly. Let the dirt dig in the dirt ere it return to

the dirt. I know only that my people grow rich and praise me. Shiv has said that the men of the schools do not

forget; Bhairon is content for his crowd of the Common People; and Hanuman laughs."

"Surely I laugh," said the Ape. "My altars are few beside those of Ganesh or Bhairon, but the firecarriages

bring me new worshippers from beyond the Black Water the men who believe that their God is toil. I run

"Give them the toil that they desire, then," said the River. "Make a bar across my flood and throw the water

back upon the bridge. Once thou wast strong in Lanka, Hanuman. Stoop and lift my bed."

"Who gives life can take life." The Ape scratched in the mud with a long forefinger. "And yet, who would

There came up from the water a snatch of a lovesong such as the boys sing when they watch their cattle in

the noon heats of late spring. The Parrot screamed joyously, sidling along his branch with lowered head as

the song grew louder, and in a patch of clear moonlight stood revealed the young herd, the darling of the

Gopis, the idol of dreaming maids and of mothers ere their children are born Krishna the Wellbeloved. He

"Fleeting and singing, and singing and fleeting," hiccupped Bhairon. "Those make thee late for the council,

"And then?" said Krishna, with a laugh, throwing back his head. "Ye can do little without me or Karma here."

He fondled the Parrot's plumage and laughed again. "What is this sitting and talking together? I heard Mother

Gunga roaring in the dark, and so came quickly from a but where I lay warm. And what have ye done to

Karma, that he is so wet and silent? And what does Mother Gunga here? Are the heavens full that ye must

"Gunga has prayed for a vengeance on the bridgebuilders, and Kali is with her. Now she bids Hanuman

whelm the bridge, that her honour may be made great," cried the Parrot. "I waited here, knowing that thou

"And the Heavenly Ones said nothing? Did Gunga and the Mother of Sorrows outtalk them? Did none

"Nay," said Ganesh, moving uneasily from foot to foot; "I said it was but dirt at play, and why should we

"I am Bhairon of the Common Folk, and this my staff is Kotwal of all Kashi. I spoke for the Common

"Am I not the first of the Gods in their mouths today?" returned Bhairon, unabashed. "For the sake of the

Common People I said very many wise things which I have now forgotten, but this my staff "

Krishna turned impatiently, saw the Mugger at his feet, and kneeling, slipped an arm round the cold neck.

"Mother," he said gently, "get thee to thy flood again. This matter is not for thee. What harm shall thy honour

take of this live dirt? Thou hast given them their fields new year after year, and by thy flood they are made

strong. They come all to thee at the last. What need to slay them now? Have pity, mother, for a little and it is

"Are they Gods, then?" Krishna, returned with a laugh, his eyes looking into the dull eyes of the River. "Be

certain that it is only for a little. The Heavenly Ones have heard thee, and presently justice will be done. Go

now, mother, to the flood again. Men and cattle are thick on the waters the banks fall the villages melt

"But the bridgethe bridge stands." The Mugger turned grunting into the undergrowth as Krishna rose.

"It is ended," said the Tigress, viciously. "There is no more justice from the Heavenly Ones. Ye have made

"Of my people who lie under the leafroofs of the village yonder of the young girls, and the young men

who sing to them in the dark of the child that will be born next morn of that which was begotten tonight,"

said Krishna. "And when all is done, what profit? Tomorrow sees them at work. Ay, if ye swept the bridge

out from end to end they would begin anew. Hear me! Bhairon is drunk always. Hanuman mocks his people

"Shiv hears the talk of the schools and the dreams of the holy men; Ganesh thinks only of his fat traders; but I

I live with these my people, asking for no gifts, and so receiving them hourly."

"They are my own. The old women dream of me turning in their sleep; the maids look and listen for me when

they go to fill their lotahs by the river. I walk by the young men waiting without the gates at dusk, and I call

over my shoulder to the whitebeards. Ye know, Heavenly Ones, that I alone of us all walk upon the earth

continually, and have no pleasure in our heavens so long ,as a green blade springs here, or there are two

voices at twilight in the standing crops. Wise are ye, but ye live far off, forgetting whence ye came. So do I

not forget. And the firecarriage feeds your shrines, ye say? And the firecarriages bring a thousand pilgrims

"Peace!" said the Bull, as Hanuman leaned forward again. "And tomorrow, beloved what of tomorrow?"

"This only. A new word creeping from mouth to mouth among the Common Folk a word that neither man

nor God can lay hold of an evil word a little lazy word among the Common Folk, saying (and none know

"And to cover that weariness they, my people, will bring to thee, Shiv, and to thee, Ganesh, at first greater

offerings and a louder noise of worship. But the word has gone abroad, and, after, they will pay fewer dues to

our fat Brahmins. Next they will forget your altars, but so slowly that no man can say how his forgetfulness

"I knew I knew! I spoke this also, but they would not hear," said the Tigress. "We should have slain we

"It is too late now. Ye should have slain at the beginning when the men from across the water had taught our

folk nothing. Now my people see their work, and go away thinking. They do not think of the Heavenly Ones

altogether. They think of the firecarriage and the other things that the bridgebuilders have done, and when

your priests thrust forward hands asking alms, they give a little unwillingly. That is the beginning, among one

or two, or five or ten for I, moving among my people, know what is in their hearts."

"The end shall be as it was in the beginning, O slothful son of Shiv! The flame shall die upon the altars and

the prayer upon the tongue till ye become little Gods again Gods of the jungle names that the hunters of

rats and noosers of dogs whisper in the thicket and among the caves ragGods, pot Godlings of the tree,

and the villagemark, as ye were at the beginning. That is the end, Ganesh, for thee, and for Bhairon Bhairon

"Many women have kissed Krishna. They told him this to cheer their own hearts when the grey hairs came,

"Their Gods came, and we changed them. I took the Woman and made her twelvearmed. So shall we twist

" Their Gods! This is no question of their Gods one or three man or woman. The matter is with the

"So be it. I have made a man worship the firecarriage as it stood still breathing smoke, and he knew not that

he worshipped me," said Hanuman the Ape. "They will only change a little the names of their Gods. I shall

lead the builders of the bridges as of old; Shiv shall be worshipped in the schools by such as doubt and

despise their fellows; Ganesh shall have his mahajuns, and Bhairon the donkeydrivers, the pilgrims, and the

sellers of toys. Beloved, they will do no more than change the names, and that we have seen a thousand

"Surely they will do no more than change the names," echoed Ganesh; but there was an uneasy movement

"They will change more than the names. Me alone they cannot kill, so long as a maiden and a man meet

together or the spring follows the winter rains. Heavenly Ones, not for nothing have I walked upon the earth.

My people know not now what they know; but I, who live with them, I read their hearts. Great Kings, the

beginning of the end is born already. The firecarriages shout the names of new Gods that are not the old

under new names. Drink now and eat greatly! Bathe your faces in the smoke of the altars before they grow

cold! Take dues and listen to the cymbals and the drums, Heavenly Ones, while yet there are flowers and

songs. As men count time the end is far off; but as we who know reckon it is today. I have spoken."

"This I have not heard before," Peroo whispered in his companion's ear. "And yet sometimes, when I oiled

the brasses in the engineroom of the Goorkha, I have wondered if our priests were so wise so wise. The

A yellow light broadened in the sky, and the tone of the river changed as the darkness withdrew.

"Let Indra judge. Father of all, speak thou! What of the things we have heard? Has Krishna lied indeed? Or

"Ye know, " said the Buck, rising to his feet. "Ye know the Riddle of the Gods. When Brahm ceases to

dream, the Heavens and the Hells and Earth disappear. Be content. Brahm dreams still. The dreams come and

go, and the nature of the dreams changes, but still Brahm dreams. Krishna has walked too long upon earth,

and yet I love him the more for the tale he has told. The Gods change, belovedall save One!"

"Ay, all save one that makes love in the hearts of men," said Krishna, knotting his girdle. "It is but a little

"Truly it is but a little time, as thou sayest, and we shall know. Get thee to thy huts again, beloved, and make

sport for the young things, for still Brahm dreams. Go, my children! Brahm dreams and till he wakes the

"Whither went they?" said the Lascar, awestruck, shivering a little with the cold.

"God knows!" said Findlayson. The river and the island lay in full daylight now, and there was never mark of

hoof or pug on the wet earth under the peepul. Only a parrot screamed in the branches, bringing down

Findlayson staggered to his feet and shook himself. His head swam and ached, but the work of the opium was

over, and, as he sluiced his forehead in a pool, the Chief Engineer of the Kashi Bridge was wondering how he

had managed to fall upon the island, what chances the day offered of return, and, above all, how his work

"Peroo, I have forgotten much. I was under the guardtower watching the river; and then . . . . Did the flood

"No. The boats broke loose, Sahib, and" (if the Sahib had forgotten about the opium, decidedly Peroo would

not remind him) "in striving to retie them, so it seemed to me but it was darka rope caught the Sahib and

threw him upon a boat. Considering that we two, with Hitchcock Sahib, built, as it were, that bridge, I came

also upon the boat, which came riding on horseback, as it were, on the nose of this island, and so, splitting,

cast us ashore. I made a great cry when the boat left the wharf, and without doubt Hitchcock Sahib will come

for us. As for the bridge, so many have died in the building that it cannot fall."

A fierce sun, that drew out all the smell of the sodden land, had followed the storm, and in that clear light

there was no room for a man to think of the dreams of the dark. Findlayson stared upstream, across the blaze

of moving water, till his eyes ached. There was no sign of any bank to the Ganges, much less of a bridgeline.

"We came down far," he said. "It was wonderful that we were not drowned a hundred times."

"That was the least of the wonder, for no man dies before his time. I have seen Sydney, I have seen London,

and twenty great ports, but" Peroo looked at the damp, discoloured shrine under the "peopul " never man

"There was a fever upon me." Findlayson was still looking uneasily across the water. "It seemed that the

island was full of beasts and men talking, but I do not remember. A boat could live in this water now, I

"Oho! Then it is true. 'When Brahm ceases to dream, the Gods die.' Now I know, indeed, what he meant.

Once, too, the guru said as much to me; but then I did not understand. Now I am wise."

Peroo went on as if he were talking to himself. " Sixseventen monsoons since, I was watch on the fo'c'sle

of the ehwah the Kumpani's big boatand there was a big tufan; green and black water beating, and I held

fast to the lifelines, choking under the waters. Then I thought of the Gods of Those whom we saw tonight"

he stared curiously at Findlayson's back, but the white man was looking across the flood. "Yes, I say of

Those whom we saw this night past, and I called upon Them to protect me. And while I prayed, still keeping

my lookout, a big wave came and threw me forward upon the ring of the great black bowanchor, and the

Rewah rose high and high, leaning towards the lefthand side, and the water drew away from beneath her

nose, and I lay upon my belly, holding the ring, and looking down into those great deeps. Then I thought,

even in the face of death: If I lose hold I die, and for me neither the Rewah nor my place by the galley where

the rice is cooked, nor Bombay, nor Calcutta, nor even London, will be any more for me. 'How shall I be

sure,' I said, that the Gods to whom I pray will abide at all?' This I thought, and the Rewah dropped her nose

as a hammer falls, and all the sea came in and slid me backwards along the fo'c'sle and over the break of the

fo'c'sle, and I very badly bruised my shin against the donkeyengine: but I did not die, and I have seen the

Gods. They are good for live men, but for the dead . . . They have spoken Themselves. Therefore, when I

come to the village I will beat the guru for talking riddles which are no riddles. When Brahm ceases to dream

Peroo shaded his eyes with his hands. "He is a wise man and quick. Hitchcock Sahib would not trust a

rowboat. He has borrowed the Rao Sahib's steam launch, and comes to look for us. I have always said that

The territory of the Rao of Baraon lay within ten miles of the bridge; and Findlayson and Hitchcock had spent

a fair portion of their scanty leisure in playing billiards and shooting blackbuck with the young man. He had

been bearled by an English tutor of sporting tastes for some five or six years, and was now royally wasting

the revenues accumulated during his minority by the Indian Government. His steamlaunch, with its

silverplated rails, striped silk awning, and mahogany decks, was a new toy which Findlayson had found

"It's great luck," murmured Findlayson, but he was none the less afraid, wondering what news might be of the

The gaudy blue and white funnel came downstream swiftly. They could see Hitchcock in the bows, with a

pair of operaglasses, and his face was unusually white. Then Peroo hailed, and the launch made for the tail

of the island. The Rao Sahib, in tweed shootingsuit and a sevenhued turban, waved his royal hand, and

Hitchcock shouted. But he need have asked no questions, for Findlayson's first demand was for his bridge.

"All serene! Gad, I never expected to see you again, Findlayson. You're seven koss downstream. Yes;

there's not a stone shifted anywhere; but how are you? I borrowed the Rao Sahib's launch, and he was good

"Ah, Finlinson, you are very well, eh? That was most unprecedented calamity last night, eh? My royal palace,

too, it leaks like the devil, and the crops will also be short all about my country. Now you shall back her out,

Hitchcock. I I do not understand steam engines. You are wet? You are cold, Finlinson? I have some things

"I'm immensely grateful, Rao Sahib. I believe you've saved my life. How did Hitchcock "

"Oho! His hair was upon end. He rode to me in the middle of the night and woke me up in the arms of

Morpheus. I was most truly concerned, Finlinson, so I came too. My headpriest he is very angry just now.

We will go quick, Mister Hitchcock. I am due to attend at twelve fortyfive in the state temple, where we

sanctify some new idol. If not so I would have asked you to spend the day with me. They are dambore, these

Peroo, well known to the crew, had possessed himself of the inlaid wheel, and was taking the launch craftily

upstream. But while he steered he was, in his mind, handling two feet of partially untwisted wirerope; and

According to the custom of Vermont, Sunday afternoon is saltingtime on the farm, and, unless something

very important happens, we attend to the salting ourselves. Dave and Pete, the red oxen, are treated first; they

stay in the home meadow ready for work on Monday. Then come the cows, with Pan, the calf, who should

have been turned into veal long ago, but survived on account of his manners; and lastly the horses, scattered

You must go down by the brook that feeds the clicking, bubbling waterram; up through the sugarbush,

where the young maple undergrowth closes round you like a shallow sea; next follow the faint line of an old

countyroad running past two green hollows fringed with wild rose that mark the cellars of two ruined

houses; then by Lost Orchard, where nobody ever comes except in cidertime; then across another brook, and

so into the Back Pasture. Half of it is pine and hemlock and Spruce, with sumach and little juniper bushes,

and the other half is grey rock and boulder and moss, with green streaks of brake and swamp; but the horses

like it well enough our own, and the others that are turned down there to feed at fifty cents a week. Most

people walk to the Back Pasture, and find it very rough work; but one can get there in a buggy, if the horse

knows what is expected of him. The safest conveyance is our coupe. This began life as a buckboard, and we

bought it for five dollars from a sorrowful man who had no other sort of possessions; and the seat came off

one night when we were turning a corner in a hurry. After that alteration it made a beautiful saltingmachine,

if you held tight, because there was nothing to catch your feet when you fell out, and the slats rattled tunes.

One Sunday afternoon we went out with the salt as usual. It was a broiling hot day, and we could not find the

horses anywhere till we let Tedda Gabler, the bobtailed mare who throws up the dirt with her big hooves

exactly as a tedder throws hay, have her head. Clever as she is, she tipped the coupe over in a hidden brook

before she came out on a ledge of rock where all the horses had gathered, and were switching flies. The

Deacon was the first to call to her. He is a very dark irongrey fouryearold, son of Grandee. He has been

handled since he was two, was driven in a light cart before he was three, and now ranks as an absolutely

steady lady's horse proof against steamrollers, gradecrossings, and street processions.

"Any any place to cramp the coupe?" Tedda panted. "It weighs turr'ble this weather. I'd 'a' come sooner, but

they didn't know what they wanted ner haow. Fell out twice, both of 'em. I don't understand sech

"You look consider'ble het up. 'Guess you'd better cramp her under them pines, an' cool off a piece."

Tedda scrambled on the ledge, and cramped the coupe in the shade of a tiny little wood of pines, while my

companion and I lay down among the brown, silky needles, and gasped. All the home horses were gathered

There were Rod and Rick, the seniors on the farm. They were the regular roadpair, bay with black points,

full brothers, aged, sons of a Hambletonian sire and a Morgan dam. There were Nip and Tuck, sealbrowns,

rising six, brother and sister, Black Hawks by birth, perfectly matched, just finishing their education, and as

handsome a pair as man could wish to find in a fortymile drive. There was Muldoon, our excarhorse,

bought at a venture, and any colour you choose that is not white; and Tweezy, who comes from Kentucky,

with an affliction of his left hip, which makes him a little uncertain how his hind legs are moving. He and

Muldoon had been hauling gravel all the week for our new road. The Deacon you know already. Last of all,

and eating something, was our faithful Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, the black buggyhorse, who had seen us

through every state of weather and road, the horse who was always standing in harness before some door or

other a philosopher with the appetite of a shark and the manners of an archbishop. Tedda Gabler was a new

"trade," with a reputation for vice which was really the result of bad driving. She had one working gait, which

she could hold till further notice; a Roman nose; a large, prominent eye; a shavingbrush of a tail; and an

irritable temper. She took her salt through her bridle; but the others trotted up nuzzling and wickering for

theirs, till we emptied it on the clean rocks. They were all standing at ease, on three legs for the most part,

talking the ordinary gossip of the Back Pasture about the scarcity of water, and gaps in the fence, and how

the early windfalls tasted that season when little Rick blew the last few grains of his allowance into a

We heard a clatter of hooves, and there climbed up from the ravine below a fiftycenter transient a

walleyed, yellow framehouse of a horse, sent up to board from a liverystable in town, where they called

him "The Lamb," and never let him out except at night and to strangers. My companion, who knew and had

broken most of the horses, looked at the ragged hammerhead as it rose, and said quietly:

"Niice beast. Maneater, if he gets the chance see his eye. Kicker, too see his hocks. Western horse."

The animal lumbered up, snuffling and grunting. His feet showed that he had not worked for weeks and

"As usual," he said, with an underhung sneer "bowin' your heads before the Oppressor that comes to spend

"Mine's done," said the Deacon; he licked up the remnant of his salt, dropped his nose in his master's hand,

and sang a little grace all to himself. The Deacon has the most enchanting manners of any one I know.

"An' fawnin' on them for what is your inalienable right. It's humiliatin'," said the yellow horse, sniffing to see

"Go daown hill, then, Boney," the Deacon replied. "Guess you'll find somethin' to eat still, if yer hain't

hogged it all. You've ett more'n any three of us today an' day 'fore that an' the last two months sence

"I am not addressin' myself to the young an' immature. I am speakin' to those whose opinion an' experience

I saw Rod raise his head as though he were about to make a remark; then he dropped it again, and stood

threecornered, like a ploughhorse. Rod can cover his mile in a shade under three minutes on an ordinary

road to an ordinary buggy. He is tremendously powerful behind, but, like most Hambletonians, he grows a

trifle sullen as he gets older. No one can love Rod very much; but no one can help respecting him.

"I wish to wake those," the yellow horse went on, "to an abidin' sense o' their wrongs an' their injuries an'

"Haow's that?" said Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, dreamily. He thought Boney was talking of some kind of

"An' when I say outrages and injuries" Boney waved his tail furiously "I mean 'em, too. Great Oats! That's

"The gentleman talks quite earnest," said Tuck, the mare, to Nip, her brother. There's no doubt thinkin'

"He hain't widened nothin' 'cep' the circle he's ett in pasture. They feed words fer beddin' where he comes

"It's elegant talkin', though," Tuck returned, with an unconvinced toss of her pretty, lean little head.

The yellow horse heard her, and struck an attitude which he meant to be extremely impressive. It made him

"Now I ask you, I ask you without prejudice an' without favour, what has Man the Oppressor ever done for

you? Are you not inalienably entitled to the free air o' heaven, blowin' acrost this boundless prairie?"

"Hev ye ever wintered here?" said the Deacon, merrily, while the others snickered. "It's kinder cool."

"Not yet," said Boney. "I come from the boundless confines o' Kansas, where the noblest of our kind have

their abidin' place among the sunflowers on the threshold o' the settin' sun in his glory."

"An' they sent you ahead as a sample?" said Rick, with an amused quiver of his long, beautifully groomed

"Kansas, sir, needs no advertisement. Her native sons rely on themselves an' their native sires. Yes, sir."

Then Tweezy lifted up his wise and polite old head. His affliction makes him bashful as a rule, but he is ever

"Excuse me, suh," he said slowly, "but, unless I have been misinfohmed, most of your prominent siahs, suh,

"Any horse dat knows beans," said Muldoon, suddenly (he had been standing with his hairy chin on Tweezy's

broad quarters), "gits outer Kansas 'fore dey crip his shoes. I blew in dere from Ioway in de days o' me youth

an' innocence, an' I wuz grateful when dey boxed me fer N' York. You can't tell me anything about Kansas I

don't wanter fergit. De Belt Line stables ain't no Hoffman House, but dey're Vanderbilts 'longside o' Kansas."

"What the horses o' Kansas think today, the horses of America will think tomorrow; an' I tell you that

when the horses of America rise in their might, the day o' the Oppressor is ended."

"Ef you put it that way, every one of us has riz in his might, 'cep' Marcus, mebbe. Marky, 'j ever rise in yer

"Nope," said Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, thoughtfully quidding over a mouthful of grass. "I seen a heap o'

"You admit that you riz?" said the Kansas horse, excitedly. "Then why why in Kansas did you ever go

"Not when he's jerked over on his back 'fore he knows what fetched him. We've all done it, Boney," said

Rick. "Nip an' Tuck they tried it, spite o' what the Deacon told 'em; an' the Deacon he tried it, spite o' what

me an' Rod told him; an' me an' Rod tried it, spite o' what Grandee told us; an' I guess Grandee he tried it,

spite o' what his dam told him. It's the same old circus from generation to generation. 'Colt can't see why he's

called on to back. Same old rearm' on end straight up. Same old feelin' that you've bested 'em this time.

Same old little yank at your mouth when you're up good an' tall. Same old Pegasusact, wonderin' where

you'll 'light. Same old wop when you hit the dirt with your head where your tail should be, and your in'ards

shook up like a branmash. Same old voice in your ear: 'Waal, ye little fool, an' what did you reckon to make

by that?' We're through with risin in our might on this farm. We go to pole er single, accordin' ez we're

"An' Man the Oppressor sets an' gloats over you, same as he's settin' now. Hain't that been your experience,

This last remark was addressed to Tedda; and any one could see with half an eye that poor, old anxious,

fidgety Tedda, stamping at the flies, must have left a wild and tumultuous youth behind her.

"'Pends on the man," she answered, shifting from one foot to the other, and addressing herself to the home

horses. "They abused me dreffle when I was young. I guess I was sperrity an' nervous some, but they didn't

allow for that. 'Twas in Monroe County, Noo York, an' sence then till I come here, I've run away with more

men than 'u'd fill a boardin'house. Why, the man that sold me here he says to the boss, s' he: 'Mind, now,

I've warned you. 'Twon't be none of my fault if she sheds you daown the road. Don't you drive her in a

topbuggy, ner 'thout winkers,' s' he, 'ner 'thought this bit ef you look to come home behind her.' 'N' the fust

"Suit me to a ha'ar," said Marcus Aurelius Antoninus. "Topbuggy means the baby's in behind, an' I kin stop

while she gathers the pretty flowers yes, an' pick a maouthful, too. The womenfolk all say I hev to be

"'Course I've no prejudice against a topbuggy s' long's I can see it," Tedda went on quickly. "It's ha'fseein'

the pesky thing bobbin' an' balancn' behind the winkers gits on my nerves. Then the boss looked at the bit

they'd sold with me, an' s' he: 'Jiminy Christmas! This 'u'd make a clotheshorse Stan' 'n end!' Then he gave

"Hain't ye got any, Miss Tedda?" said Tuck, who has a mouth like velvet, and knows it.

"Might 'a' had, Miss Tuck, but I've forgot. Then he give me an open bridle, my style's an open bridle an'

"My!" said Tuck, "I can't tell fer the shoes o' me what makes some men so fresh."

"Pshaw, sis," said Nip, "what's the sense in actin' so? You git a kiss reg'lar's hitchin'up time."

"I'd heard o' kisses, o' course," Tedda went on, "but they hadn't come my way specially. I don't mind tellin' I

was that took aback at that man's doin's he might ha' lit firecrackers on my saddle. Then we went out jest's if

a kiss was nothin', an' I wasn't three strides into my gait 'fore I felt the boss knoo his business, an' was trustin'

me. So I studied to please him, an' he never took the whip from the dash a whip drives me plumb distracted

an' the upshot was that waal, I've come up the Back Pasture today, an' the coupe's tipped clear over

twice, an' I've waited till 'twuz fixed each time. You kin judge for yourselves. I don't set up to be no better

than my neighbours, specially with my tail snipped off the way 'tis, but I want you all to know Tedda's

quit fightin' in harness or out of it, 'cep' when there's a born fool in the pasture, stuffin' his stummick with

"Ef the shoe fits, clinch it," said Tedda, snorting. "I named no names, though, to be sure, some folks are mean

"There's a deal to be forgiven to ignorance," said the yellow horse, with an ugly look in his blue eye.

"Seemin'ly, yes; or some folks 'u'd ha' been kicked raound the pasture 'bout onct a minute sence they came

"But what you do not understand, if you will excuse me, madam, is that the whole principle o' servitood,

which includes keep an' feed, starts from a radically false basis; an' I am proud to say that me an' the majority

o' the horses o' Kansas think the entire concern should be relegated to the limbo of exploded superstitions. I

say we're too progressive for that. I say we're too enlightened for that. 'Twas good enough's long's we didn't

"The horses o' Kansas are behind me with their multitoodinous thunderin' hooves, an' we say, simply but

grandly, that we take our stand with all four feet on the inalienable rights of the horse, pure and simple, the

hightoned child o' nature, fed by the same wavin' grass, cooled by the same ripplin' brook yes, an' warmed

by the same gen'rous sun as falls impartially on the outside an' the inside of the pampered machine o' the

trottin'track, or the bloated coupehorses o' these yere Eastern cities. Are we not the same flesh an' blood?"

"Not by a bushel an' a half," said the Deacon, under his breath. "Grandee never was in Kansas."

"My! Ain't that elegant, though, abaout the wavin' grass an' the ripplin' brooks?" Tuck whispered in Nip's ear.

"I say we are the same flesh an' blood! Are we to be separated, horse from horse, by the artificial barriers of a

trottin'record, or are we to look down upon each other on the strength o' the gifts o' nature an extry inch

below the knee, or slightly more powerful quarters? What's the use o' them advantages to you? Man the

Oppressor comes along, an' sees you're likely an' goodlookin', an' grinds you to the face o' the earth. What

for? For his own pleasure: for his own convenience! Young an' old, black an' bay, white an' grey, there's no

distinctions made between us. We're ground up together under the remorseless teeth o' the engines of

"Guess his breechin' must ha' broke goin' daownhill," said the Deacon. "Slippery road, maybe, an' the buggy

come onter him, an' he didn't know 'nough to hold back. That don't feel like teeth, though. Maybe he busted a

"An' I come to you from Kansas, wavin' the tail o' friendship to all an' sundry, an' in the name of the

uncounted millions o' pureminded, hightoned horses now strugglin' towards the light o' freedom, I say to

you, Rub noses with us in our sacred an' holy cause. The power is yourn. Without you, I say, Man the

Oppressor cannot move himself from place to place. Without you he cannot reap, he cannot sow, he cannot

"Mighty odd place, Kansas!" said Marcus Aurelius Antoninus. "Seemin'ly they reap in the spring an' plough

"The produc's of your untirin' industry would rot on the ground if you did not weakly consent to help him. Let

'em rot, I say! Let him call you to the stables in vain an' nevermore! Let him shake his ensnarin' oats under

your nose in vain! Let the Brahmas roost in the buggy, an' the rats run riot round the reaper! Let him walk on

his two hind feet till they blame well drop off! Win no more souldestroyn' races for his pleasure! Then, an'

not till then, will Man the Oppressor know where he's at. Quit workin', fellowsufferers an' slaves! Kick!

Rear! Plunge! Lie down on the shafts, an' woller! Smash an' destroy! The conflict will be but short, an' the

victory is certain. After that we can press our inalienable rights to eight quarts o' oats a day, two good

The yellow horse shut his yellow teeth with a triumphant snap; and Tuck said, with a sigh: 'Seems's if

somethin' ought to be done. Don't seem right, somehow, oppressin' us an all, to my way o' thinkin'."

"Who in Vermont's goin' to haul de inalienable oats? Dey weigh like Sam Hill, an' sixty bushel at dat

allowance ain't goin' to last t'ree weeks here. An' dere's de winter hay for five mont's!"

"We can settle those minor details when the great cause is won," said the yellow horse. "Let us return simply

but grandly to our inalienable rights the right o' freedom on these yere verdant hills, an' no invijjus

"Fer one thing, bein' a bloated, pampered trotter jest because you happen to be raised that way, an' couldn't no

"I've seen 'em trot. That was enough for me. I don't want to know any more. Trottin''s immoral."

"Waal, I'll tell you this much. They don't bloat, an' they don't pamp much. I don't hold out to be no trotter

myself, though I am free to say I had hopes that way onct. But I do say, fer I've seen 'em trained, that a

trotter don't trot with his feet: he trots with his head; an' he does more work ef you know what that is in a

week than you er your sire ever done in all your lives. He's everlastingly at it, a trotter is; an' when he isn't,

he's studyin' haow. You seen 'em trot? Much you hev! You was hitched to a rail, back o' the stand, in a

buckboard with a soapbox nailed on the slats, an' a frowzy buff'lo atop, while your man peddled rum fer

lemonade to little boys as thought they was actin' manly, till you was both run off the track an' jailed you

"Don't get het up, Deacon," said Tweezy, quietly. "Now, suh, would you consider a foxtrot, an' singlefoot,

an' rack, an' pace, an' amble, distinctions not worth distinguishin'? I assuah you, gentlemen, there was a time

befo' I was afflicted in my hip, if you'll pardon me, Miss Tuck, when I was quite celebrated in Paduky for all

those gaits; an in my opinion the Deacon's co'rect when he says that a ho'se of any position in society gets his

gaits by his haid, an' not by his, ah, limbs, Miss Tuck. I reckon I'm very little good now, but I'm

rememberin' the things I used to do befo' I took to transpo'tin' real estate with the help an' assistance of this

"Invijjus arterficial hind legs!" said the excarhorse, with a grunt of contempt. "On de Belt Line we don't

reckon no horse wuth his keep 'less he kin switch de car off de track, run her round on de cobbles, an' dump

her in ag'in ahead o' de truck what's blockin' him. Dere is a way o' swingin' yer quarters when de driver says,

'Yank her out, boys!' dat takes a year to learn. Onct yer git onter it, youse kin yank a cablecar outer a

manhole. I don't advertise myself for no circushorse, but I knew dat trick better than most, an' dey was good

to me in de stables, fer I saved time on de Belt an' time's what dey hunt in N' York."

"Oh, go an' unscrew yer splints! You're talkin' through yer bandages," said Muldoon, with a horselaugh.

"Dere ain't no loosebox for de simple child o' nature on de Belt Line, wid de Paris comin' in an' de Teutonic

goin' out, an' de trucks an' de coupe's sayin' things, an' de heavy freight movin' down fer de Boston boat 'bout

t'ree o'clock of an August afternoon, in de middle of a hot wave when de fat Kanucks an' Western horses

drops dead on de block. De simple child o' nature had better chase himself inter de water. Every man at de

end of his lines is mad or loaded or silly, an' de cop's madder an' loadeder an' sillier than de rest. Dey all take

it outer de horses. Dere's no wavin' brooks ner ripplin' grass on de Belt Line. Run her out on de cobbles wid

de sparks flyin', an' stop when de cop slugs you on de bone o' yer nose. Dat's N'York; see?

"I was always told s'ciety in Noo York was dreffle refined an' hightoned," said Tuck. "We're lookin' to go

"Oh, you won't see no Belt business where you'll go, miss. De man dat wants you'll want bad, an' he'll

summer you on Long Island er at Newport, wid a winkypinky silver harness an' an English coachman.

You'll make a starhitch, you an' yer brother, miss. But I guess you won't have no nice smooth bar bit. Dey

checks 'em, an' dey bangs deir tails, an' dey bits 'em, de city folk, an' dey says it's English, ye know, an' dey

darsen't cut a horse loose 'ca'se o' de cops. N' York's no place fer a horse, 'less he's on de Belt, an' can go

"But did you never stop to consider the degradin' servitood of it all?" said the yellow horse.

"You don't stop on de Belt, cully. You're stopped. An' we was all in de servitood business, man an' horse, an'

Jimmy dat sold de papers. Guess de passengers weren't out to grass neither, by de way dey acted. I done my

turn, an' I'm none o' Barnum's crowd; but any horse dat's worked on de Belt four years don't train wid no

"But can it be possible that with your experience, and at your time of life, you do not believe that all horses

"Not till they're dead," Muldoon answered quietly. "An' den it depends on de gross total o' buttons an'

"They tell me you're a prominent philosopher." The yellow horse turned to Marcus. "Can you deny a basic

"I don't deny anythin'," said Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, cautiously; "but ef you ast me, I should say 'twuz

more different sorts o' clipped oats of a lie than anythin' I've had my teeth into sence I wuz foaled."

"How fer kin you go in a day to a loaded buggy, drawin' five hundred pounds?" Marcus asked carelessly.

"Kin ye go to Keene fortytwo mile in an afternoon with a mate," said Rick; "an' turn out bright an' early

"Was there evah any time in your careah, suh I am not referrin' to the present circumstances, but our mutual

glorious past when you could carry a pretty girl to market hahnsome, an' let her knit all the way on account

"Kin you keep your feet through the West River Bridge, with the narrergage comin' in on one side, an' the

Montreal flyer the other, an' the old bridge teeterin' between?" said the Deacon. "Kin you put your nose down

on the cowcatcher of a locomotive when you're waitin' at the depot an' let 'em play 'Curfew shall not ring

"Kin you hold back when the brichin' breaks? Kin you stop fer orders when your nigh hind leg's over your

trace an' ye feel good of a frosty mornin'?" said Nip, who had only learned that trick last winter, and thought

"I rely on my simple rights the inalienable rights o' my unfettered horsehood. An' I am proud to say I have

"'Must ha' had a heap o' whips broke over yer yaller back," said Tedda. "Hev ye found it paid any?"

"Sorrer has been my portion since the day I was foaled. Blows an' boots an' whips an' insults injury,

outrage, an' oppression. I would not endoor the degradin' badges o' servitood that connect us with the buggy

"It's amazin' difficult to draw a buggy 'thout traces er collar er breaststrap er somefin'," said Marcus. "A

Powermachine for sawin' wood is most the only thing there's no straps to. I've helped saw 's much as three

cord in an afternoon in a Powermachine. Slep', too, most o' the time, I did; but 'tain't half as interestin' ez

"Concord don't hender you goin' to sleep any," said Nip. "My throatlash! D'you remember when you lay

"Pshaw! That didn't hurt the sharves. They wuz good an' wide, an' I lay down keerful. The folks kep' me

hitched up nigh an hour 'fore they started; an' larfed why, they all but lay down themselves with larfin'. Say,

Boney, if you've got to be hitched to anything that goes on wheels, you've got to be hitched with somefin'."

"Go an' jine a circus," said Muldoon, "an' walk on your hind legs. All de horses dat knows too much to work

"I am not sayin' anythin' again' work," said the yellow horse; "work is the finest thing in the world."

"I only ask that each horse should work for himself, an' enjoy the profit of his labours. Let him work

"There's no way o' workin' that doesn't mean goin' to pole er single they never put me in the

"Oh, shucks! We're talkin' same ez we graze," said Nip, "raound an' raound in circles. Rod, we hain't heard

Rod, the offhorse of the pair, had been standing with one hip lifted, like a tired cow; and you could only tell

by the quick flutter of the haw across his eye, from time to time, that he was paying any attention to the

argument. He thrust his jaw out sidewise, as his habit is when he pulls, and changed his leg. His voice was

"Mean age; ugly age; I'm gettin' that way myself. How long hev ye been pawin' this firefanged stablelitter?"

"Mean age; ugly age; teeth give heaps o' trouble then. 'Set a colt to actin' crazy fer a while. You've kep' it up,

"I am proud to say I have taught a few of my companions the principles o' freedom an' liberty."

"I was talkin' in the abstrac', an' not in the concrete. My teachin's educated them."

"What a horse, specially a young horse, hears in the abstrac', he's liable to do in the Concord. You was

"They've sent me here to get rid o' me. I guess they spend their time talkin' over my campaigns."

"Yes, sir. Now, all you gentlemen have asked me what I can do. I'll just show you. See them two fellers lyin'

"Get 'em out here in the open, an' I'll show you something. Lemme hide back o' you peoples, so's they won't

"Meanin' ter kill 'em?" Rod drawled. There was a shudder of horror through the others; but the yellow horse

"I'll catch 'em by the back o' the neck, an' piledrive 'em a piece. They can suit 'emselves about livin' when

"'Shouldn't wonder ef they did," said Rod. The yellow horse had hidden himself very cleverly behind the

others as they stood in a group, and was swaying his head close to the ground with a curious scythelike

motion, looking sidewise out of his wicked eyes. You can never mistake a maneater getting ready to knock

"See that?" said my companion, turning over on the pineneedles. "Nice for a woman walking 'cross lots,

"Bring 'em out!" said the yellow horse, hunching his sharp back. "There's no chance among them tall trees.

It was a rightandleft kick from Muldoon. I had no idea that the old carhorse could lift so quickly. Both

blows caught the yellow horse full and fair in the ribs, and knocked the breath out of him.

"What's that for?" he said angrily, when he recovered himself; but I noticed he did not draw any nearer to

Muldoon never answered, but discoursed to himself in the whining grunt that he uses when he is going

downhill in front of a heavy load. We call it singing; but I think it's something much worse, really. The

yellow horse blustered and squealed a little, and at last said that, if it was a horsefly that had stung Muldoon,

"You'll get it," said Muldoon, "in de sweet byandbye all de apology you've any use for. Excuse me

interruptin' you, Mr. Rod, but I'm like Tweezy I've a Southern drawback in me hind legs."

"Naow, I want you all here to take notice, an' you'll learn something," Rod went on. "This yallerbacked

"Not havin' earned his board, an' talks smooth to us abaout ripplin' brooks an' wavin' grass, an' his

hightoned, puresouled horsehood, which don't hender him sheddin' women an' childern, an' fallin' over the

dash onter men. You heard his talk, an' you thought it mighty fine, some o' you."

"Abstrac' be switched! Ez I've said, it's this yer blamed abstrac' business that makes the young uns cut up in

the Concord; an' abstrac' or no abstrac', he crep' on an' on till he come to killin' plain an' straight killin' them

"Waal, he didn't kill 'em, anyway," said Marcus. "He'd ha' been half killed ef he had tried."

"'Makes no differ," Rod answered. "He meant to; an' ef he hadn't s'pose we want the Back Pasture turned

into a biffin'ground on our only day er rest? 'S'pose we want our men walkin' round with bits er lead pipe an'

a twitch, an' their hands full o' stones to throw at us, same's if we wuz hogs er hooky keows? More'n that,

leavin' out Tedda here an' I guess it's more her maouth than her manners stands in her light there ain't a

horse on this farm that ain't a woman's horse, an' proud of it. An' this yer bogspavined Kansas sunflower goes

up an' daown the length o' the country, traded off an' traded on, boastin' as he's shed women an' childern. I

don't say as a woman in a buggy ain't a fool. I don't say as she ain't the lastin'est kind er fool, ner I don't say a

child ain't worse spattin' the lines an' standin' up an' hollerin' but I do say, 'tain't none of our business to

"We don't," said the Deacon. "The baby tried to git some o' my tail for a sooveneer last fall when I was up to

the haouse, an' I didn't kick. Boney's talk ain't goin' to hurt us any. We ain't colts."

"Thet's what you think Bimeby you git into a tight corner, 'Lection day er Valley Fair, like's not,

daowntaown, when you're all het an' lathery, an' pestered with flies, an' thirsty, an' sick o' bein' worked in an

aout 'tween buggies. Then somethin' whispers inside o' your winkers, bringin' up all that talk abaout servitood

an' inalienable truck an' sech like, an' jest then a Militia gun goes off; er your wheels hit, an' waal, you're

only another horse ez can't be trusted. I've been there time an' again. Boys fer I've seen you all bought er

broke on my solemn repitation fer a threeminute clip, I ain't givin' you no branmash o' my own fixin'. I'm

tellin' you my experiences, an' I've had ez heavy a load an' ez high a check's any horse here. I wuz born with a

splint on my near fore ez big's a walnut, an' the cussed, threecornered Hambletonian temper that sours up an'

curdles daown ez you git older. I've favoured my splint; even little Rick he don't know what it's cost me to

keep my end up sometimes; an' I've fit my temper in stall an' harness, hitched up an' at pasture, till the sweat

"When my affliction came," said Tweezy, gently, "I was very near to losin' my manners. Allow me to extend

Rick said nothing, but he looked at Rod curiously. Rick is a sunnytempered child who never bears malice,

and I don't think he quite understood. He gets his temper from his mother, as a horse should.

"I've been there too, Rod," said Tedda. "Open confession's good for the soul, an' all Monroe County knows

"But if you will excuse me, suh, that pusson" Tweezy looked unspeakable things at the yellow horse "that

pusson who has insulted our intelligences comes from Kansas. An' what a ho'se of his position, an' Kansas at

that, says cannot, by any stretch of the halter, concern gentlemen of our position. There's no shadow of

"Let him talk," said Marcus. "It's always interestin' to know what another horse thinks. It don't tech us."

"An' he talks so, too," said Tuck. "I've never heard anythin' so smart for a long time."

Again Rod stuck out his jaws sidewise, and went on slowly, as though he were slugging on a plain bit at the

"I want all you here ter understand thet ther ain't no Kansas, ner no Kentucky, ner yet no Vermont, in our

business. There's jest two kind o' horse in the United States them ez can an' will do their work after bein'

properly broke an' handled, an' them as won't. I'm sick an' tired o' this everlastin' tailswitchin' an' wickerin'

abaout one State er another. A horse kin be proud o' his State, an' swap lies abaout it in stall or when he's

hitched to a block, ef he keers to put in flytime that way; but he hain't no right to let that pride o' hisn

interfere with his work, ner to make it an excuse fer claimin' he's different. That's colts' talk, an' don't you

fergit it, Tweezy. An', Marcus, you remember that hem' a philosopher, an' anxious to save trouble, fer you

ate, don't excuse you from jumpin' with all your feet on a slackjawed, crazy claybank like Boney here.

It's leavin' 'em alone that gives 'em their chance to ruin colts an' kill folks. An', Tuck, waal, you're a mare

anyways but when a horse comes along an' covers up all his talk o' killin' with ripplin' brooks, an wavin

grass, an' eight quarts of oats a day free, after killn' his man, don't you be run away with by his yap. You're

"I'll I'll have nervous prostration sure ef there's a fight here," said Tuck, who saw what was in Rod's eye;

"Yep; I know that kind o' sympathy. Jest lasts long enough to start a fuss, an' then lights aout to make new

trouble. I hain't been ten years in harness fer nuthin'. Naow, we're goin' to keep school with Boney fer a

"Say, look ahere, you ain't goin' to hurt me, are you? Remember, I belong to a man in town," cried the

"I know it. There must be some pore delooded fool in this State hez a right to the loose end o' your

hitchin'strap. I'm blame sorry fer him, but he shall hev his rights when we're through with you," said Rod.

If it's all the same, gentlemen, I'd ruther change pasture. Guess I'll do it now."

"But look ahere. All of you ain't so blame unfriendly to a stranger. S'pose we count noses."

"What in Vermont fer?" said Rod, putting up his eyebrows. The idea of settling a question by counting noses

"To see how many's on my side. Here's Miss Tuck, anyway; an' Colonel Tweezy yonder's neutral; an' Judge

Marcus, an' I guess the Reverend [the yellow horse meant the Deacon] might see that I had my rights. He's

the likeliestlookin' Trotter I've ever set eyes on. Pshaw. Boys. You ain't goin' to pound me, be you? Why,

we've gone round in pasture, all colts together, this month o' Sundays, hain't we, as friendly as could be.

There ain't a horse alive I don't care who he is has a higher opinion o' you, Mr. Rod, than I have. Let's do it

fair an' true an' above the exe. Let's count noses same's they do in Kansas." Here he dropped his voice a little

and turned to Marcus: "Say, Judge, there's some green food I know, back o' the brook, no one hain't touched

yet. After this little fracas is fixed up, you an' me'll make up a party an' 'tend to it.

Marcus did not answer for a long time, then he said: "There's a pup up to the haouse 'bout eight weeks old.

He'll yap till he gits a lickin', an' when he sees it comin' he lies on his back, an' yowls. But he don't go through

no cirkituous nosecountin' first. I've seen a noo light sence Rod spoke. You'll better stand up to what's

I'm goin' to do yer up in brown paper," said Muldoon. "I can fit you on apologies."

"Hold on. Ef we all biffed you now, these same men you've been so dead anxious to kill 'u'd call us off.

'Guess we'll wait till they go back to the haouse, an' you'll have time to think cool an' quiet," said Rod.

"Have you no respec' whatever fer the dignity o' our common horsehood?" the yellow horse squealed.

"Nary respec' onless the horse kin do something. America's paved with the kind er horse you are jist plain

yallerdog horse waitin' ter be whipped inter shape. We call 'em yearlings an' colts when they're young.

When they're aged we pound 'em in this pastur'. Horse, sonny, is what you start from. We know all about

horse here, an' he ain't any hightoned, pure souled child o' nature. Horse, plain horse, same ez you, is

chockfull o' tricks, an' meannesses, an' cussednesses, an' shirkin's, an' monkeyshines, which he's took over

from his sire an' his dam, an' thickened up with his own special fancy in the way o' goin' crooked. Thet's

horse, an' thet's about his dignity an' the size of his soul 'fore he's been broke an' rawhided a piece. Now we

ain't goin' to give ornery unswitched horse, that hain't done nawthin' wuth a quart of oats sence he wuz foaled,

pet names that would be good enough fer Nancy Hanks, or Alix, or Directum, who hev. Don't you try to back

off acrost them rocks. Wait where you are! Ef I let my Hambletonian temper git the better o' me I'd frazzle

you out finer than ryestraw inside o' three minutes, you womanscarin', kidkillin', dashbreakin', unbroke,

unshod, ungaited, pastur'hoggin', sawbacked, sharkmouthed, hairtrunkthrowninintrade son of a

" I think we'd better get home," I said to my companion, when Rod had finished; and we climbed into the

coupe, Tedda whinnying, as we bumped over the ledges: "Well, I'm dreffle sorry I can't stay fer the sociable;

"Bet your natchul!" said Muldoon, cheerfully, and the horses scattered before us, trotting into the ravine.

Next morning we sent back to the liverystable what was left of the yellow horse. It seemed tired, but

It was her first voyage, and though she was but a cargosteamer of twentyfive hundred tons, she was the

very best of her kind, the outcome of forty years of experiments and improvements in framework and

machinery; and her designers and owner thought as much of her as though she had been the Lucania. Any

one can make a floating hotel that will pay expenses, if he puts enough money into the saloon, and charges

for private baths, suites of rooms, and such like; but in these days of competition and low freights every

square inch of a cargoboat must be built for cheapness, great holdcapacity, and a certain steady speed. This

boat was, perhaps, two hundred and forty feet long and thirtytwo feet wide, with arrangements that enabled

her to carry cattle on her main and sheep on her upper deck if she wanted to; but her great glory was the

amount of cargo that she could store away in her holds. Her owners they were a very well known Scotch

firm came round with her from the north, where she had been launched and christened and fitted, to

Liverpool, where she was to take cargo for New York; and the owner's daughter, Miss Frazier, went to and

fro on the clean decks, admiring the new paint and the brass work, and the patent winches, and particularly

the strong, straight bow, over which she had cracked a bottle of champagne when she named the steamer the

Dimbula. It was a beautiful September afternoon, and the boat in all her newness she was painted

leadcolour with a red funnel looked very fine indeed. Her houseflag was flying, and her whistle from

time to time acknowledged the salutes of friendly boats, who saw that she was new to the High and Narrow

"And now," said Miss Frazier, delightedly, to the captain, "she's a real ship, isn't she? It seems only the other

day father gave the order for her, and now and now isn't she a beauty!" The girl was proud of the firm,

"Oh, she's no so bad," the skipper replied cautiously. "But I'm sayin' that it takes more than christenin' to mak'

a ship. In the nature o' things, Miss Frazier, if ye follow me, she's just irons and rivets and plates put into the

"So she is, said the skipper, with a laugh. "But it's this way wi' ships, Miss Frazier. She's all here, but the

"Yes, indeed. But there's more than engines to a ship. Every inch of her, ye'll understand, has to be livened up

"We can no more than drive and steer her and so forth; but if we have rough weather this trip it's likely

she'll learn the rest by heart! For a ship, ye'll obsairve, Miss Frazier, is in no sense a reegid body closed at

both ends. She's a highly complex structure o' various an' conflictin' strains, wi' tissues that must give an' tak'

accordin' to her personal modulus of elasteecity." Mr. Buchanan, the chief engineer, was coming towards

them. "I'm sayin' to Miss Frazier, here, that our little Dimbula has to be sweetened yet, and nothin' but a gale

"Well enough true by plumb an' rule, o' course; but there's no spontaneeity yet." He turned to the girl. "Take

my word, Miss Frazier, and maybe ye'll comprehend later; even after a pretty girl's christened a ship it does

"Why so? Ye're good Scotch, an' I knew your mother's father, he was fra' Dumfries ye've a vested right in

"Eh, well, we must go down to the deep watters, an' earn Miss Frazier her deevidends. Will you not come to

my cabin for tea?" said the skipper. "We'll be in dock the night, and when you're goin' back to Glasgie ye can

In the next few days they stowed some four thousand tons deadweight into the Dimbula, and took her out

from Liverpool. As soon as she met the lift of the open water, she naturally began to talk. If you lay your ear

to the side of the cabin, the next time you are in a steamer, you will hear hundreds of little voices in every

direction, thrilling and buzzing, and whispering and popping, and gurgling and sobbing and squeaking

exactly like a telephone in a thunderstorm. Wooden ships shriek and growl and grunt, but iron vessels throb

and quiver through all their hundreds of ribs and thousands of rivets. The Dimbula was very strongly built,

and every piece of her had a letter or a number, or both, to describe it; and every piece had been hammered,

or forged, or rolled, or punched by man, and had lived in the roar and rattle of the shipyard for months.

Therefore, every piece had its own separate voice, in exact proportion to the amount of trouble spent upon it.

Castiron, as a rule, says very little; but mild steel plates and wroughtiron, and ribs and beams that have

been much bent and welded and riveted, talk continuously. Their conversation, of course, is not half as wise

as our human talk, because they are all, though they do not know it, bound down one to the other in a black

darkness, where they cannot tell what is happening near them, nor what will overtake them next.

As soon as she had cleared the Irish coast, a sullen, greyheaded old wave of the Atlantic climbed leisurely

over her straight bows, and sat down on the steamcapstan used for hauling up the anchor. Now the capstan

and the engine that drove it had been newly painted red and green; besides which, nobody likes being ducked.

"Don't you do that again," the capstan sputtered through the teeth of his cogs. "Hi! Where's the fellow gone?"

The wave had slouched overside with a plop and a chuckle; but "Plenty more where he came from," said a

brotherwave, and went through and over the capstan, who was bolted firmly to an iron plate on the iron

"Can't you keep still up there?" said the deckbeams. "What's the matter with you? One minute you weigh

"It isn't my fault," said the capstan. "There's a green brute outside that comes and hits me on the head."

"Tell that to the shipwrights. You've been in position for months and you've never wriggled like this before.

"Talking of strain," said a low, rasping, unpleasant voice, are any of you fellows you deckbeams, we mean

aware that those exceedingly ugly knees of yours happen to be riveted into our structure ours?"

"Oh, nobody in particular," was the answer. "We're only the port and starboard upperdeck stringers; and if

you persist in heaving and hiking like this, we shall be reluctantly compelled to take steps."

Now the stringers of the ship are long iron girders, so to speak, that run lengthways from stern to bow. They

keep the iron frames (what are called ribs in a wooden ship) in place, and also help to hold the ends of the

deckbeams, which go from side to side of the ship. Stringers always consider themselves most important,

"You will take steps will you?" This was a long echoing rumble. It came from the frames scores and

scores of them, each one about eighteen inches distant from the next, and each riveted to the stringers in four

places. "We think you will have a certain amount of trouble in that"; and thousands and thousands of the little

rivets that held everything together whispered: "You Will! You will! Stop quivering and be quiet. Hold on,

Rivets have no teeth, so they cannot chatter with fright; but they did their best as a fluttering jar swept along

An unusually severe pitch, for the sea was rising, had lifted the big throbbing screw nearly to the surface, and

it was spinning round in a kind of sodawater half sea and half air going much faster than was proper,

because there was no deep water for it to work in. As it sank again, the engines and they were triple

expansion, three cylinders in a row snorted through all their three pistons. "Was that a joke, you fellow

outside? It's an uncommonly poor one. How are we to do our work if you fly off the handle that way?"

"I didn't fly off the handle," said the screw, twirling huskily at the end of the screwshaft. "If I had, you'd

have been scrapiron by this time. The sea dropped away from under me, and I had nothing to catch on to.

That's all, d'you call it?" said the thrustblock, whose business it is to take the push of the screw; for if a

screw had nothing to hold it back it would crawl right into the engineroom. (It is the holding back of the

screwing action that gives the drive to a ship.) "I know I do my work deep down and out of sight, but I warn

you I expect justice. All I ask for is bare justice. Why can't you push steadily and evenly, instead of whizzing

like a whirligig, and making me hot under all my collars?" The thrustblock had six collars, each faced with

All the bearings that supported the fifty feet of screwshaft as it ran to the stern whispered: "Justice give us

"I can only give you what I can get," the screw answered. "Look out! It's coming again!"

He rose with a roar as the Dimbula plunged, and "whack flack whack whack" went the engines,

"I'm the noblest outcome of human ingenuity Mr. Buchanan says so," squealed the highpressure cylinder.

"This is simply ridiculous!" The piston went up savagely, and choked, for half the steam behind it was mixed

with dirty water. "Help! Oiler! Fitter! Stoker! Help I'm choking," it gasped. "Never in the history of maritime

invention has such a calamity overtaken one so young and strong. And if I go, who's to drive the ship?"

"Hush! oh, hush!" whispered the Steam, who, of course, had been to sea many times before. He used to spend

his leisure ashore in a cloud, or a gutter, or a flowerpot, or a thunderstorm, or anywhere else where water

was needed. "That's only a little priming, a little carryingover, as they call it. It'll happen all night, on and

off. I don't say it's nice, but it's the best we can do under the circumstances."

"What difference can circumstances make? I'm here to do my work on clean, dry steam. Blow

"The circumstances will attend to the blowing. I've worked on the North Atlantic run a good many times it's

"It isn't distressingly calm now," said the extra strong frames they were called webframes in the

engineroom. "There's an upward thrust that we don't understand, and there's a twist that is very bad for our

brackets and diamondplates, and there's a sort of westnorthwesterly pull, that follows the twist, which

seriously annoys us. We mention this because we happened to cost a good deal of money, and we feel sure

I'm afraid the matter is out of owner's hands for the present," said the Steam, slipping into the condenser.

"I wouldn't mind the weather," said a flat bass voice below; "it's this confounded cargo that's breaking my

heart. I'm the garboardstrake, and I'm twice as thick as most of the others, and I ought to know something."

The garboardstrake is the lowest plate in the bottom of a ship, and the Dimbula's garboardstrake was

"The sea pushes me up in a way I should never have expected," the strake grunted, "and the cargo pushes me

"Yes; but there's only dark, and cold, and hurry, down here; and how do I know whether the other plates are

doing their duty? Those bulwarkplates up above, I've heard, ain't more than fivesixteenths of an inch thick

"I agree with you," said a huge webframe, by the main cargohatch. He was deeper and thicker than all the

others, and curved halfway across the ship in the shape of half an arch, to support the deck where

deckbeams would have been in the way of cargo coming up and down. "I work entirely unsupported, and I

observe that I am the sole strength of this vessel, so far as my vision extends. The responsibility, I assure you,

is enormous. I believe the moneyvalue of the cargo is over one hundred and fifty thousand pounds. Think of

"And every pound of it is dependent on my personal exertions." Here spoke a seavalve that communicated

directly with the water outside, and was seated not very far from the garboardstrake. "I rejoice to think that I

am a PrinceHyde Valve, with best Para rubber facings. Five patents cover me I mention this without pride

five separate and several patents, each one finer than the other. At present I am screwed fast. Should I open,

Patent things always use the longest words they can. It is a trick that they pick up from their inventors.

"That's news," said a big centrifugal bilgepump. "I had an idea that you were employed to clean decks and

things with. At least, I've used you for that more than once. I forget the precise number, in thousands, of

gallons which I am guaranteed to throw per hour; but I assure you, my complaining friends, that there is not

the least danger. I alone am capable of clearing any water that may find its way here. By my Biggest

The sea was getting up in workmanlike style. It was a dead westerly gale, blown from under a ragged opening

of green sky, narrowed on all sides by fat, grey clouds; and the wind bit like pincers as it fretted the spray into

"I tell you what it is," the foremast telephoned down its wirestays. "I'm up here, and I can take a

dispassionate view of things. There's an organised conspiracy against us. I'm sure of it, because every single

one of these waves is heading directly for our bows. The whole sea is concerned in it and so's the wind. It's

"This organised conspiracy on your part," the capstan gurgled, taking his cue from the mast. "Organised

bubbles and spindrift! There has been a depression in the Gulf of Mexico. Excuse me!" He leaped overside;

"And is now going out to sea to sea to sea!" The third went out in three surges, making a clean sweep of a

boat, which turned bottom up and sank in the darkening troughs alongside, while the broken falls whipped

"That's all there is to it," seethed the white water roaring through the scuppers. "There's no animus in our

"Is it going to get any worse?" said the bowanchor chained down to the deck, where he could only breathe

"Not knowing, can't say. Wind may blow a bit by midnight. Thanks awfully. Goodbye."

The wave that spoke so politely had travelled some distance aft, and found itself all mixed up on the deck

amidships, which was a welldeck sunk between high bulwarks. One of the bulwarkplates, which was hung

on hinges to open outward, had swung out, and passed the bulk of the water back to the sea again with a clean

"Evidently that's what I'm made for," said the plate, closing again with a sputter of pride. "Oh, no, you don't,

my friend!" The top of a wave was trying to get in from the outside, but as the plate did not open in that

"Not bad for fivesixteenths of an inch," said the bulwarkplate. "My work, I see, is laid down for the night";

and it began opening and shutting, as it was designed to do, with the motion of the ship.

"We are not what you might call idle," groaned all the frames together, as the Dimbula climbed a big wave,

lay on her side at the top, and shot into the next hollow, twisting in the descent. A huge swell pushed up

exactly under her middle, and her bow and stern hung free with nothing to support them. Then one joking

wave caught her up at the bow, and another at the stern, while the rest of the water slunk away from under her

just to see how she would like it; so she was held up at her two ends only, and the weight of the cargo and the

"Ease off! Ease off; there!" roared the garboardstrake. "I want oneeighth of an inch fair play. D' you hear

"Ease off! Ease off!" cried the bilgestringers. "Don't hold us so tight to the frames!"

"Ease off!" grunted the deckbeams, as the Dimbula rolled fearfully. "You've cramped our knees into the

Then two converging seas hit the bows, one on each side, and fell away in torrents of streaming thunder.

"Ease off!" shouted the forward collisionbulkhead. "I want to crumple up, but I'm stiffened in every

All the hundreds of plates that are riveted to the frames, and make the outside skin of every steamer, echoed

the call, for each plate wanted to shift and creep a little, and each plate, according to its position, complained

"We can't help it! We can't help it!" they murmured in reply. "We're put here to hold you, and we're going to

do it; you never pull us twice in the same direction. If you'd say what you were going to do next, we'd try to

"As far as I could feel," said the upperdeck planking, and that was four inches thick, "every single iron near

me was pushing or pulling in opposite directions. Now, what's the sense of that? My friends, let us all pull

"Pull any way you please," roared the funnel, "so long as you don't try your experiments on me. I need

fourteen wireropes, all pulling in different directions, to hold me steady. Isn't that so?"

We believe you, my boy!" whistled the funnelstays through their clinched teeth, as they twanged in the wind

"Very good," said the stringers; "then stop pushing sideways when you get wet. Be content to run gracefully

"No no curves at the end. A very slight workmanlike curve from side to side, with a good grip at each knee,

"Fiddle!" cried the iron pillars of the deep, dark hold. "Who ever heard of curves? Stand up straight; be a

perfectly round column, and carry tons of good solid weight like that! There!" A big sea smashed on the

"Straight up and down is not bad," said the frames, who ran that way in the sides of the ship, "but you must

also expand yourselves sideways. Expansion is the law of life, children. Open out! open out!"

"Come back!" said the deckbeams, savagely, as the upward heave of the sea made the frames try to open.

"Rigidity! Rigidity! Rigidity!" thumped the engines. "Absolute, unvarying rigidity rigidity!"

"You see!" whined the rivets, in chorus. "No two of you will ever pull alike, and and you blame it all on us.

We only know how to go through a plate and bite down on both sides so that it can't, and mustn't, and sha'n't

"I've got one fraction of an inch play, at any rate," said the garboardstrake, triumphantly. So he had, and all

"Then we're no good," sobbed the bottom rivets. "We were ordered we were ordered never to give; and

we've given, and the sea will come in, and we'll all go to the bottom together! First we're blamed for

everything unpleasant, and now we haven't the consolation of having done our work."

"Don't say I told you," whispered the Steam, consolingly; "but, between you and me and the last cloud I came

from, it was bound to happen sooner or later. You had to give a fraction, and you've given without knowing

"What's the use?" a few hundred rivets chattered. "We've given we've given; and the sooner we confess that

we can't keep the ship together, and go off our little heads, the easier it will be. No rivet forged can stand this

"The others can have my share. I'm going to pull out," said a rivet in one of the forward plates.

"If you go, others will follow," hissed the Steam. "There's nothing so contagious in a boat as rivets going.

Why, I knew a little chap like you he was an eighth of an inch fatter, though on a steamer to be sure,

she was only twelve hundred tons, now I come to think of it in exactly the same place as you are. He pulled

out in a bit of a bobble of a sea, not half as bad as this, and he started all his friends on the same buttstrap,

and the plates opened like a furnace door, and I had to climb into the nearest fogbank, while the boat went

"Now that's peculiarly disgraceful," said the rivet. "Fatter than me, was he, and in a steamer not half our

tonnage? Reedy little peg! I blush for the family, sir." He settled himself more firmly than ever in his place,

"You see," he went on, quite gravely, " a rivet, and especially a rivet in your position, is really the one

The Steam did not say that be had whispered the very same thing to every single piece of iron aboard. There

And all that while the little Dimbula pitched and chopped, and swung and slewed, and lay down as though

she were going to die, and got up as though she had been stung, and threw her nose round and round in

circles half a dozen times as she dipped, for the gale was at its worst. It was inky black, in spite of the tearing

white froth on the waves, and, to top everything, the rain began to fall in sheets, so that you could not see

your hand before your face. This did not make much difference to the ironwork below, but it troubled the

"Now it's all finished," he said dismally. "The conspiracy is too strong for us. There is nothing left but to "

"Hurraar! Brrrraaah! Brrrrrrp!" roared the Steam through the foghorn, till the decks quivered. "Don't be

frightened, below. It's only me, just throwing out a few words, in case any one happens to be rolling round

"You don't mean to say there's any one except us on the sea in such weather?" said the funnel, in a husky

"Scores of 'em," said the Steam, clearing its throat. "Rrrrrraaa! Brraaaaa! Prrrrp! It's a trifle windy up here;

"We're drowning," said the scuppers. They had been doing nothing else all night, but this steady thrash of rain

"That's all right. We'll be easier in an hour or two. First the wind and then the rain. Soon you may make sail

again! Grrraaaaaah! Drrrraaaa! Drrrp! I have a notion that the sea is going down already. If it does you'll

learn something about rolling. We've only pitched till now. By the way, aren't you chaps in the hold a little

There was just as much groaning and straining as ever, but it was not so loud or squeaky in tone; and when

the ship quivered she did not jar stiffly, like a poker hit on the floor, but gave with a supple little waggle, like

"We have made a most amazing discovery," said the stringers, one after another. "A discovery that entirely

changes the situation. We have found, for the first time in the history of shipbuilding, that the inward pull of

the deckbeams and the outward thrust of the frames locks us, as it were, more closely in our places, and

enables us to endure a strain which is entirely without parallel in the records of marine architecture."

The Steam turned a laugh quickly into a roar up the foghorn. "What massive intellects you great stringers

"We also," began the deckbeams, "are discoverers and geniuses. We are of opinion that the support of the

holdpillars materially helps us. We find that we lock up on them when we are subjected to a heavy and

Here the Dimbula shot down a hollow, lying almost on her side; righting at the bottom with a wrench and a

"In these cases are you aware of this, Steam? the plating at the bows, and particularly at the stern we

would also mention the floors beneath us help us to resist any tendency to spring. "The frames spoke, in the

solemn awed voice which people use when they have just come across something entirely new for the very

"I'm only a poor puffy little flutterer," said the Steam, "but I have to stand a good deal of pressure in my

business. It's all tremendously interesting. Tell us some more. You fellows are so strong."

"Watch us and you'll see," said the bowplates, proudly. "Ready, behind there! Here's the father and mother

of waves coming! Sit tight, rivets all!" A great sluicing comber thundered by, but through the scuffle and

confusion the Steam could hear the low, quick cries of the ironwork as the various strains took them cries

like these: "Easy, now easy! Now push for all your strength! Hold out! Give a fraction! Hold up! Pull in!

Shove crossways! Mind the strain at the ends! Grip, now! Bite tight! Let the water get away from under and

The wave raced off into the darkness, shouting, "Not bad, that, if it's your first run!" and the drenched and

ducked ship throbbed to the beat of the engines inside her. All three cylinders were white with the salt spray

that had come down through the engineroom hatch; there was white fur on the canvasbound steampipes,

and even the brightwork deep below was speckled and soiled; but the cylinders had learned to make the

"How's the noblest outcome of human ingenuity hitting it?" said the Steam, as he whirled through the

"Nothing for nothing in this world of woe," the cylinders answered, as though they had been working for

centuries, "and precious little for seventyfive pounds head. We've made two knots this last hour and a

"Well, it's better than drifting astern, at any rate. You seem rather less how shall I put it stiff in the back

"If you'd been hammered as we've been this night, you wouldn't be stiff iff iff; either. Theoreti retti

retti cally, of course, rigidity is the thing. Purrr purr practically, there has to be a little give and take.

We found that out by working on our sides for five minutes at a stretch chch chh. How's the weather?"

"Good business," said the highpressure cylinder. "Whack her up, boys. They've given us five pounds more

steam"; and he began humming the first bars of "Said the young Obadiah to the old Obadiah," which, as you

may have noticed, is a pet tune among engines not built for high speed. Racingliners with twinscrews sing

"The Turkish Patrol" and the overture to the "Bronze Horse," and "Madame Angot," till something goes

wrong, and then they render Gounod's "Funeral March of a Marionette," with variations.

"You'll learn a song of your own some fine day," said the Steam, as he flew up the foghorn for one last

Next day the sky cleared and the sea dropped a little, and the Dimbula began to roll from side to side till

every inch of iron in her was sick and giddy. But luckily they did not all feel ill at the same time: otherwise

The Steam whistled warnings as he went about his business: it is in this short, quick roll and tumble that

follows a heavy sea that most of the accidents happen, for then everything thinks that the worst is over and

goes off guard. So he orated and chattered till the beams and frames and floors and stringers and things had

learned how to lock down and lock up on one another, and endure this new kind of strain.

They found ample time to practise, for they were sixteen days at sea, and it was foul weather till within a

hundred miles of New York. The Dimbula picked up her pilot, and came in covered with salt and red rust.

Her funnel was dirtygrey from top to bottom; two boats had been carried away; three copper ventilators

looked like hats after a fight with the police; the bridge had a dimple in the middle of it; the house that

covered the steam steeringgear was split as with hatchets; there was a bill for small repairs in the

engineroom almost as long as the screwshaft; the forward cargohatch fell into bucketstaves when they

raised the iron crossbars; and the steamcapstan had been badly wrenched on its bed. Altogether, as the

"But she's soupled," he said to Mr. Buchanan. "For all her deadweight she rode like a yacht. Ye mind that

"It's vera good," said the chief engineer, looking along the dishevelled decks. "Now, a man judgin'

Naturally everything in the Dimbula fairly stiffened with pride, and the foremast and the forward

collisionbulkhead, who are pushing creatures, begged the Steam to warn the Port of New York of their

arrival. "Tell those big boats all about us," they said. "They seem to take us quite as a matter of course."

It was a glorious, clear, dead calm morning, and in single file, with less than half a mile between each, their

bands playing and their tugboats shouting and waving handkerchiefs, were the Majestic, the Paris, the

Touraine, the Servia, the Kaiser Wilhelm II, and the Werkendam, all statelily going out to sea. As the

Dimbula shifted her helm to give the great boats clear way, the Steam (who knows far too much to mind

Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! Princes, Dukes, and Barons of the High Seas! Know ye by these presents, we are the

Dimbula, fifteen days nine hours from Liverpool, having crossed the Atlantic with four thousand ton of cargo

for the first time in our career! We have not foundered. We are here. 'Eer! 'Eer! We are not disabled. But we

have had a time wholly unparalleled in the annals of shipbuilding! Our decks were swept! We pitched; we

rolled! We thought we were going to die! Hi! Hi! But we didn't. We wish to give notice that we have come to

New York all the way across the Atlantic, through the worst weather in the world; and we are the Dimbula!

The beautiful line of boats swept by as steadily as the procession of the Seasons. The Dimbula heard the

Majestic say, "Hmph!" and the Paris grunted, "How!" and the Touraine said, "Oui!" with a little coquettish

flicker of steam; and the Servia said, "Haw!" and the Kaiser and the Werkendam said, "Hoch!" Dutch fashion

"I did my best," said the Steam, gravely, "but I don't think they were much impressed with us, somehow. Do

"It's simply disgusting," said the bowplates. "They might have seen what we've been through. There isn't a

"Well, I wouldn't go so far as that," said the Steam, "because I've worked on some of those boats, and sent

them through weather quite as bad as the fortnight that we've had, in six days; and some of them are a little

over ten thousand tons, I believe. Now I've seen the Majestic, for instance, ducked from her bows to her

funnel; and I've helped the Arizona, I think she was, to back off an iceberg she met with one dark night; and I

had to run out of the Paris's engineroom, one day, because there was thirty foot of water in it. Of course, I

don't deny " The Steam shut off suddenly, as a tugboat, loaded with a political club and a brass band, that

had been to see a New York Senator off to Europe, crossed their bows, going to Hoboken. There was a long

silence that reached, without a break, from the cutwater to the propellerblades of the Dimbula.

Then a new, big voice said slowly and thickly, as though the owner had just waked up: "It's my conviction

The Steam knew what had happened at once; for when a ship finds herself all the talking of the separate

"Who are you?" he said, with a laugh. "I am the Dimbula, of course. I've never been anything else except that

The tugboat, which was doing its very best to be run down, got away just in time; its band playing clashily

In the days of old Rameses are you on? In the days of old Rameses are you on? In the days of old

"Well, I'm glad you've found yourself," said the Steam. "To tell the truth, I was a little tired of talking to all

those ribs and stringers. Here's Quarantine. After that we'll go to our wharf and clean up a little, and next

Some people will tell you that if there were but a single loaf of bread in all India it would be divided equally

between the Plowdens, the Trevors, the Beadons, and the RivettCarnacs. That is only one way of saying that

certain families serve India generation after generation, as dolphins follow in line across the open sea.

Let us take a small and obscure case. There has been at least one representative of the Devonshire Chinns in

or near Central India since the days of LieutenantFireworker Humphrey Chinn, of the Bombay European

Regiment, who assisted at the capture of Seringapatam in 1799. Alfred Ellis Chinn, Humphrey's younger

brother, commanded a regiment of Bombay grenadiers from 1804 to 1813, when he saw some mixed

fighting; and in 1834 John Chinn of the same family we will call him John Chinn the First came to light

as a levelheaded administrator in time of trouble at a place called Mundesur. He died young, but left his

mark on the new country, and the Honourable the Board of Directors of the Honourable the East India

Company embodied his virtues in a stately resolution, and paid for the expenses of his tomb among the

He was succeeded by his son, Lionel Chinn, who left the little old Devonshire home just in time to be

severely wounded in the Mutiny. He spent his working life within a hundred and fifty miles of John Chinn's

grave, and rose to the command of a regiment of small, wild hillmen, most of whom had known his father.

His son John was born in the small thatchedroofed, mudwalled cantonment, which is even today eighty

miles from the nearest railway, in the heart of a scrubby, tigerish country. Colonel Lionel Chinn served thirty

years and retired. In the Canal his steamer passed the outwardbound troopship, carrying his son eastward

The Chinns are luckier than most folk, because they know exactly what they must do. A clever Chinn passes

for the Bombay Civil Service, and gets away to Central India, where everybody is glad to see him. A dull

Chinn enters the Police Department or the Woods and Forest, and sooner or later he, too, appears in Central

India, and that is what gave rise to the saying, "Central India is inhabited by Bhils, Mairs, and Chinns, all

very much alike." The breed is smallboned, dark, and silent, and the stupidest of them are good shots. John

Chinn the Second was rather clever, but as the eldest son he entered the army, according to Chinn tradition.

His duty was to abide in his father's regiment for the term of his natural life, though the corps was one which

most men would have paid heavily to avoid. They were irregulars, small, dark, and blackish, clothed in

riflegreen with blackleather trimmings; and friends called them the "Wuddars," which means a race of

lowcaste people who dig up rats to eat. But the Wuddars did not resent it. They were the only Wuddars, and

Firstly, they had fewer English officers than any native regiment. Secondly, their subalterns were not

mounted on parade, as is the general rule, but walked at the head of their men. A man who can hold his own

with the Wuddars at their quickstep must be sound in wind and limb. Thirdly, they were the most pukka

shikarries (outandout hunters) in all India. Fourthlyup to onehundredthly they were the Wuddars

Chinn's Irregular Bhil Levies of the old days, but now, henceforward and for ever, the Wuddars.

No Englishman entered their mess except for love or through family usage. The officers talked to their

soldiers in a tongue not two hundred white folk in India understood; and the men were their children, all

drawn from the Bhils, who are, perhaps, the strangest of the many strange races in India. They were, and at

heart are, wild men, furtive, shy, full of untold superstitions. The races whom we call natives of the country

found the Bhil in possession of the land when they first broke into that part of the world thousands of years

ago. The books call them PreAryan, Aboriginal, Dravidian, and so forth; and, in other words, that is what

the Bhils call themselves. When a Rajput chief whose bards can sing his pedigree backwards for twelve

hundred years is set on the throne, his investiture is not complete till he has been marked on the forehead with

blood from the veins of a Bhil. The Rajputs say the ceremony has no meaning, but the Bhil knows that it is

Centuries of oppression and massacre made the Bhil a cruel and halfcrazy thief and cattlestealer, and when

the English came he seemed to be almost as open to civilisation as the tigers of his own jungles. But John

Chinn the First, father of Lionel, grandfather of our John, went into his country, lived with him, learned his

language, shot the deer that stole his poor crops, and won his confidence, so that some Bhils learned to

plough and sow, while others were coaxed into the Company's service to police their friends.

When they understood that standing in line did not mean instant execution, they accepted soldiering as a

cumbrous but amusing kind of sport, and were zealous to keep the wild Bhils under control. That was the thin

edge of the wedge. John Chinn the First gave them written promises that, if they were good from a certain

date, the Government would overlook previous offences; and since John Chinn was never known to break his

word he promised once to hang a Bhil locally esteemed invulnerable, and hanged him in front of his tribe

for seven proved murders the Bhils settled down as steadily as they knew how. It was slow, unseen work,

of the sort that is being done all over India today; and though John Chinn's only reward came, as I have said,

in the shape of a grave at Government expense, the little people of the hills never forgot him.

Colonel Lionel Chinn knew and loved them, too, and they were very fairly civilised, for Bhils, before his

service ended. Many of them could hardly be distinguished from lowcaste Hindoo farmers; but in the south,

where John Chinn the First was buried, the wildest still clung to the Satpura ranges, cherishing a legend that

some day Jan Chinn, as they called him, would return to his own. In the mean time they mistrusted the white

man and his ways. The least excitement would stampede them, plundering, at random, and now and then

killing; but if they were handled discreetly they grieved like children, and promised never to do it again.

The Bhils of the regiment the uniformed men were virtuous in many ways, but they needed humouring.

They felt bored and homesick unless taken after tiger as beaters; and their coldblooded daring all Wuddars

shoot tigers on foot: it is their castemark made even the officers wonder. They would follow up a

wounded tiger as unconcernedly as though it were a sparrow with a broken wing; and this through a country

full of caves and rifts and pits, where a wild beast could hold a dozen men at his mercy. Now and then some

little man was brought to barracks with his head smashed in or his ribs torn away; but his companions never

Young John Chinn was decanted at the verandah of the Wuddars' lonely messhouse from the back seat of a

twowheeled cart, his guncases cascading all round him. The slender little, hookeynosed boy looked

forlorn as a strayed goat when he slapped the white dust off his knees, and the cart jolted down the glaring

road. But in his heart he was contented. After all, this was the place where he had been born, and things were

There were a few new buildings, but the air and the smell and the sunshine were the same; and the little green

men who crossed the paradeground looked very familiar. Three weeks ago John Chinn would have said he

did not remember a word of the Bhil tongue, but at the mess door he found his lips moving in sentences that

he did not understand bits of old nursery rhymes, and tailends of such orders as his father used to give the

"Look!" he said to the Major. "No need to ask the young un's breed. He's a pukka Chinn. 'Might be his father

"'Hope he'll shoot as straight," said the Major. "He's brought enough ironmongery with him."

"'Wouldn't be a Chinn if he didn't. Watch him blowin' his nose. 'Regular Chinn beak. 'Flourishes his

"'Fairy tale, by Jove!" said the Major, peering through the slats of the jalousies. "If he's the lawful heir, he'll

.... Now old Chinn could no more pass that chick without fiddling with it than ...."

"Well, I be blowed!" said the Major. The boy's eye had been caught by a splitreed screen that hung on a

slew between the veranda pillars, and, mechanically, he had tweaked the edge to set it level. Old Chinn had

sworn three times a day at that screen for many years; he could never get it to his satisfaction.

His son entered the anteroom in the middle of a fivefold silence. They made him welcome for his father's

sake and, as they took stock of him, for his own. He was ridiculously like the portrait of the Colonel on the

wall, and when he had washed a little of the dust from his throat he went to his quarters with the old man's

"So much for heredity," said the Major. "That comes of four generations among the Bhils."

"And the men know it," said a Wing officer. "They've been waiting for this youth with their tongues hanging

out. I am persuaded that, unless he absolutely beats 'em over the head, they'll lie down by companies and

"Nothin' like havin' a father before you," said the Major. "I'm a parvenu with my chaps. I've only been twenty

years in the regiment, and my revered parent he was a simple squire. There's no getting at the bottom of a

Bhil's mind. Now, why is the superior bearer that young Chinn brought with him fleeing across country with

his bundle?" He stepped into the verandah, and shouted after the man a typical newjoined subaltern's

Plenty bad man here. I going, sar," was the reply. "'Have taken Sahib's keys, and say will shoot."

"Doocid lucid doocid convincin'. How those upcountry thieves can leg it! He has been badly frightened by

Young Chinn, walking like a man in a dream, had fetched a compass round the entire cantonment before

going to his own tiny cottage. The captain's quarters, in which he had been born, delayed him for a little; then

he looked at the well on the paradeground, where he had sat of evenings with his nurse, and at the

tenbyfourteen church, where the officers went to service if a chaplain of any official creed happened to

come along. It seemed very small as compared with the gigantic buildings he used to stare up at, but it was

>From time to time he passed a knot of silent soldiers, who saluted. They might have been the very men who

had carried him on their backs when he was in his first knickerbockers. A faint light burned in his room, and,

"I bore you in my arms, Sahib, when I was a strong man and you were a small one crying, crying, crying! I

"I have taken your keys from that fat foreigner, and sent him away; and the studs are in the shirt for mess.

Who should know, if I do not know? And so the baby has become a man, and forgets his nurse; but my

Then there rose up, with a rattle, as straight as a Bhil arrow, a little whitehaired wizened ape of a man, with

medals and orders on his tunic, stammering, saluting, and trembling. Behind him a young and wiry Bhil, in

"Foreigners are bad people. He will never come back again. We are all servants of your father's son. Has the

Sahib forgotten who took him to see the trapped tiger in the village across the river, when his mother was so

The scene came back to Chinn in great magiclantern flashes. "Bukta!" he cried; and all in a breath: "You

The man was at his feet a second time. "He has not forgotten. He remembers his own people as his father

remembered. Now can I die. But first I will live and show the Sahib how to kill tigers. That that yonder is my

nephew. If he is not a good servant, beat him and send him to me, and I will surely kill him, for now the

Sahib is with his own people. Ai, Jan haba Jan haba! My Jan haba! I will stay here and see that this does his

work well. Take off his boots, fool. Sit down upon the bed, Sahib, and let me look. It is Jan haba."

He pushed forward the hilt of his sword as a sign of service, which is an honour paid only to viceroys,

governors, generals, or to little children whom one loves dearly. Chinn touched the hilt mechanically with

three fingers, muttering he knew not what. It happened to be the old answer of his childhood, when Bukta in

The Major's quarters were opposite Chinn's, and when he heard his servant gasp with surprise he looked

across the room. Then the Major sat on the bed and whistled; for the spectacle of the senior native

commissioned officer of the regiment, an "unmixed" Bhil, a Companion of the Order of British India, with

thirtyfive years' spotless service in the army, and a rank among his own people superior to that of many

Bengal princelings, valeting the lastjoined subaltern, was a little too much for his nerves.

The throaty bugles blew the Messcall that has a long legend behind it. First a few piercing notes like the

shrieks of beaters in a faraway cover, and next, large, full, and smooth, the refrain of the wild song: "And

"All little children were in bed when the Sahib heard that call last," said Bukta, passing Chinn a clean

handkerchief. The call brought back memories of his cot under the mosquitonetting, his mother's kiss, and

the sound of footsteps growing fainter as he dropped asleep among his men. So he hooked the dark collar of

his new messjacket, and went to dinner like a prince who has newly inherited his father's crown.

Old Bukta swaggered forth curling his whiskers. He knew his own value, and no money and no rank within

the gift of the Government would have induced him to put studs in young officers' shirts, or to hand them

clean ties. Yet, when he took off his uniform that night, and squatted among his fellows for a quiet smoke, he

told them what he had done, and they said that he was entirely right. Thereat Bukta propounded a theory

which to a white mind would have seemed raving insanity; but the whispering, levelheaded little men of war

considered it from every point of view, and thought that there might be a great deal in it.

At mess under the oillamps the talk turned as usual to the unfailing subject of shikar big gameshooting

of every kind and under all sorts of conditions. Young Chinn opened his eyes when he understood that each

one of his companions had shot several tigers in the Wuddar style on foot, that is making no more of the

"In nine cases out of ten," said the Major, "a tiger is almost as dangerous as a porcupine. But the tenth time

That set all talking, and long before midnight Chinn's brain was in a whirl with stories of tigers maneaters

and cattlekillers each pursuing his own business as methodically as clerks in an office; new tigers that had

lately come into suchandsuch a district; and old, friendly beasts of great cunning, known by nicknames in

the messsuch as "Puggy," who was lazy, with huge paws, and "Mrs. Malaprop," who turned up when you

never expected her, and made female noises. Then they spoke of Bhil superstitions, a wide and picturesque

"'Deed, we aren't," said a man on his left. "We know all about you. You're a Chinn and all that, and you've a

sort of vested right here; but if you don't believe what we're telling you, what will you do when old Bukta

begins his stories? He knows about ghosttigers, and tigers that go to a hell of their own; and tigers that walk

on their hind feet; and your grandpapa's ridingtiger, as well. 'Odd he hasn't spoken of that yet."

"You know you've an ancestor buried down Satpura way, don't you?" said the Major, as Chinn smiled

"Of course I do," said Chinn, who had the chronicle of the Book of Chinn by heart. It lies in a worn old

ledger on the Chinese lacquer table behind the piano in the Devonshire home, and the children are allowed to

"Well, I wasn't sure. Your revered ancestor, my boy, according to the Bhils, has a tiger of his own a

saddletiger that he rides round the country whenever he feels inclined. I don't call it decent in an

exCollector's ghost; but that is what the Southern Bhils believe. Even our men, who might be called

moderately cool, don't care to beat that country if they hear that Jan Chinn is running about on his tiger. It is

supposed to be a clouded animal not stripy, but blotchy, like a tortoiseshell tomcat. No end of a brute, it

is, and a sure sign of war or pestilence or or something. There's a nice family legend for you."

"Ask the Satpura Bhils. Old Jan Chinn was a mighty hunter before the Lord. Perhaps it was the tiger's

revenge, or perhaps he's huntin' 'em still. You must go to his tomb one of these days and inquire. Bukta will

probably attend to that. He was asking me before you came whether by any illluck you had already bagged

your tiger. If not, he is going to enter you under his own wing. Of course, for you of all men it's imperative.

The Major was not wrong. Bukta kept an anxious eye on young Chinn at drill, and it was noticeable that the

first time the new officer lifted up his voice in an order the whole line quivered. Even the Colonel was taken

aback, for it might have been Lionel Chinn returned from Devonshire with a new lease of life. Bukta had

continued to develop his peculiar theory among his intimates, and it was accepted as a matter of faith in the

The old man arranged early that his darling should wipe out the reproach of not having shot a tiger; but he

was not content to take the first or any beast that happened to arrive. In his own villages he dispensed the

high, low, and middle justice, and when his people naked and fluttered came to him with word of a beast

marked down, he bade them send spies to the kills and the wateringplaces, that he might be sure the quarry

Three or four times the reckless trackers returned, most truthfully saying that the beast was mangy,

undersized a tigress worn with nursing, or a brokentoothed old male and Bukta would curb young

At last, a noble animal was marked down a tenfoot cattlekiller with a huge roll of loose skin along the

belly, glossyhided, fullfrilled about the neck, whiskered, frisky, and young. He had slain a man in pure

"Let him be fed," quoth Bukta, and the villagers dutifully drove out a cow to amuse him, that he might lie up

Princes and potentates have taken ship to India and spent great moneys for the mere glimpse of beasts

"It is not good," said he to the Colonel, when he asked for shootingleave, "that my Colonel's son who may

be that my Colonel's son should lose his maidenhead on any small jungle beast. That may come after. I

have waited long for this which is a tiger. He has come in from the Mair country. In seven days we will return

The mess gnashed their teeth enviously. Bukta, had he chosen, might have invited them all. But he went out

alone with Chinn, two days in a shootingcart and a day on foot, till they came to a rocky, glary valley with a

pool of good water in it. It was a parching day, and the boy very naturally stripped and went in for a bathe,

leaving Bukta by the clothes. A white skin shows far against brown jungle, and what Bukta beheld on Chinn's

"I'd forgotten it isn't decent to strip before a man of his position," said Chinn, flouncing in the water. "How

the little devil stares! What is it, Bukta?" "The Mark!" was the whispered answer.

"It is nothing. You know how it is with my people!" Chinn was annoyed. The dullred birthmark on his

shoulder, something like a conventionalised Tartar cloud, had slipped his memory or he would not have

bathed. It occurred, so they said at home, in alternate generations, appearing, curiously enough, eight or nine

years after birth, and, save that it was part of the Chinn inheritance, would not be considered pretty. He

hurried ashore, dressed again, and went on till they met two or three Bhils, who promptly fell on their faces.

"My people," grunted Bukta, not condescending to notice them. "And so your people, Sahib. When I was a

young man we were fewer, but not so weak. Now we are many, but poor stock. As may be remembered. How

will you shoot him, Sahib? From a tree; from a shelter which my people shall build; by day or by night?"

"That was your custom, as I have heard," said Bukta to himself "I will get news of him. Then you and I will

go to him. I will carry one gun. You have yours. There is no need of more. What tiger shall stand against

He was marked down by a little waterhole at the head of a ravine, fullgorged and half asleep in the May

sunlight. He was walked up like a partridge, and he turned to do battle for his life. Bukta made no motion to

raise his rifle, but kept his eyes on Chinn, who met the shattering roar of the charge with a single shot it

seemed to him hours as he sighted which tore through the throat, smashing the backbone below the neck

and between the shoulders. The brute couched, choked, and fell, and before Chinn knew well what had

happened Bukta bade him stay still while he paced the distance between his feet and the ringing jaws.

"Fifteen," said Bukta. "Short paces. No need for a second shot, Sahib. He bleeds cleanly where he lies, and

we need not spoil the skin. I said there would be no need of these, but they came in case."

Suddenly the sides of the ravine were crowned with the heads of Bukta's people a force that could have

blown the ribs out of the beast had Chinn's shot failed; but their guns were hidden, and they appeared as

interested beaters, some five or six waiting the word to skin. Bukta watched the life fade from the wild eyes,

"No need to show that we care," said he. "Now, after this, we can kill what we choose. Put out your hand,

Chinn obeyed. It was entirely steady, and Bukta nodded. "That also was your custom. My men skin quickly.

They will carry the skin to cantonments. Will the Sahib come to my poor village for the night and, perhaps,

"Oh, if they skin clumsily, we will skin them. They are my people. In the lines I am one thing. Here I am

This was very true. When Bukta doffed uniform and reverted to the fragmentary dress of his own people, he

left his civilisation of drill in the next world. That night, after a little talk with his subjects, he devoted to an

orgie; and a Bhil orgie is a thing not to be safely written about. Chinn, flushed with triumph, was in the thick

of it, but the meaning of the mysteries was hidden. Wild folk came and pressed about his knees with

offerings. He gave his flask to the elders of the village. They grew eloquent, and wreathed him about with

flowers. Gifts and loans, not all seemly, were thrust upon him, and infernal music rolled and maddened round

red fires, while singers sang songs of the ancient times, and danced peculiar dances. The aboriginal liquors

are very potent, and Chinn was compelled to taste them often, but, unless the stuff had been drugged, how

came he to fall asleep suddenly, and to waken late the next day half a march from the village?

"The Sahib was very tired. A little before dawn he went to sleep," Bukta explained. "My people carried him

The voice, smooth and deferential, the step, steady and silent, made it hard to believe that only a few hours

"My people were very pleased to see the Sahib. They will never forget. When next the Sahib goes out

recruiting, he will go to my people, and they will give him as many men as we need."

Chinn kept his own counsel, except as to the shooting of the tiger, and Bukta embroidered that tale with a

shameless tongue. The skin was certainly one of the finest ever hung up in the mess, and the first of many.

When Bukta could not accompany his boy on shootingtrips, he took care to put him in good hands, and

Chinn learned more of the mind and desire of the wild Bhil in his marches and campings, by talks at twilight

Presently his men in the regiment grew bold to speak of their relatives mostly in trouble and to lay cases

of tribal custom before him. They would say, squatting in his verandah at twilight, after the easy, confidential

style of the Wuddars, that suchandsuch a bachelor had run away with suchandsuch a wife at a faroff

village. Now, how many cows would Chinn Sahib consider a just fine? Or, again, if written order came from

the Government that a Bhil was to repair to a walled city of the plains to give evidence in a lawcourt, would

it be wise to disregard that order? On the other hand, if it were obeyed, would the rash voyager return alive?

"But what have I to do with these things?" Chinn demanded of Bukta, impatiently. "I am a soldier. I do not

"Hoo! Law is for fools and white men. Give them a large and loud order, and they will abide by it. Thou art

Every trace of expression left Bukta's countenance. The idea might have smitten him for the first time. "How

can I say?" he replied. "Perhaps it is on account of the name. A Bhil does not love strange things. Give them

orders, Sahib two, three, four words at a time such as they can carry away in their heads. That is enough."

Chinn gave orders then, valiantly, not realising that a word spoken in haste before mess became the dread

unappealable law of villages beyond the smoky hills was, in truth, no less than the Law of Jan Chinn the

First, who, so the whispered legend ran, had come back to earth, to oversee the third generation, in the body

There could be no sort of doubt in this matter. All the Bhils knew that Jan Chinn reincarnated had honoured

Bukta's village with his presence after slaying his first in this life tiger; that he had eaten and drunk with

the people, as he was used; and Bukta must have drugged Chinn's liquor very deeply upon his back and

right shoulder all men had seen the same angry red Flying Cloud that the high Gods had set on the flesh of

Jan Chinn the First when first he came to the Bhil. As concerned the foolish white world which has no eyes,

he was a slim and young officer in the Wuddars; but his own people knew he was Jan Chinn, who had made

the Bhil a man; and, believing, they hastened to carry his words, careful never to alter them on the way.

Because the savage and the child who plays lonely games have one horror of being laughed at or questioned,

the little folk kept their convictions to themselves; and the Colonel, who thought he knew his regiment, never

guessed that each one of the six hundred quickfooted, beadyeyed rankandfile, to attention beside their

rifles, believed serenely and unshakenly that the subaltern on the left flank of the line was a demigod twice

born tutelary deity of their land and people. The Earthgods themselves had stamped the incarnation, and

Chinn, being practical above all things, saw that his family name served him well in the lines and in camp.

His men gave no trouble one does not commit regimental offences with a god in the chair of justice and

he was sure of the best beaters in the district when he needed them. They believed that the protection of Jan

Chinn the First cloaked them, and were bold in that belief beyond the utmost daring of excited Bhils.

His quarters began to look like an amateur naturalhistory museum, in spite of duplicate heads and horns and

skulls that he sent home to Devonshire. The people, very humanly, learned the weak side of their god. It is

true he was unbribable, but birdskins, butterflies, beetles, and, above all, news of big game pleased him. In

other respects, too, he lived up to the Chinn tradition. He was feverproof. A night's sitting out over a

tethered goat in a damp valley, that would have filled the Major with a month's malaria, had no effect on him.

Now in the autumn of his second year's service an uneasy rumour crept out of the earth and ran about among

the Bhils. Chinn heard nothing of it till a brotherofficer said across the messtable: "Your revered ancestor's

"I don't want to be disrespectful, but I'm a little sick of my revered ancestor. Bukta talks of nothing else.

"Riding crosscountry by moonlight on his processional tiger. That's the story. He's been seen by about two

thousand Bhils, skipping along the tops of the Satpuras, and scaring people to death. They believe it devoutly,

and all the Satpura chaps are worshipping away at his shrine tomb, I mean like good uns. You really

ought to go down there. Must be a queer thing to see your grandfather treated as a god."

"Because all our men deny it. They say they've never heard of Chinn's tiger. Now that's a manifest lie,

"There's only one thing you've overlooked," said the Colonel, thoughtfully. "When a local god reappears on

earth, it's always an excuse for trouble of some kind; and those Satpura Bhils are about as wild as your

Chinn put the question directly to the old man that night, and the answer surprised him.

"Why should I tell what is well known? Yes, the Clouded Tiger is out in the Satpura country."

They do not know. They wait. Sahib, what is coming? Say only one little word, and we will be content."

"We? What have tales from the south, where the jungly Bhils live, to do with drilled men?"

"Sahib" the old man's eyes were full of tender reproof "if he does not wish to be seen, why does he go

abroad in the moonlight? We know he is awake, but we do not know what he desires. Is it a sign for all the

Bhils, or one that concerns the Satpura folk alone? Say one little word, Sahib, that I may carry it to the lines,

and send on to our villages. Why does Jan Chinn ride out? Who has done wrong? Is it pestilence? Is it

murrain? Will our children die? Is it a sword? Remember, Sahib, we are thy people and thy servants, and in

"Bukta has evidently looked on the cup this evening," Chinn thought; "but if I can do anything to soothe the

He dropped into a deep wicker chair, over which was thrown his first tigerskin, and his weight on the

cushion flapped the clawed paws over his shoulders. He laid hold of them mechanically as he spoke, drawing

"Now will I tell the truth, Bukta," he said, leaning forward, the dried muzzle on his shoulder, to invent a

"Jan Chinn goes abroad among the Satpuras, riding on the Clouded Tiger, ye say? Be it so. Therefore the sign

of the wonder is for the Satpura Bhils only, and does not touch the Bhils who plough in the north and east, the

Bhils of the Khandesh, or any others, except the Satpura Bhils, who, as we know, are wild and foolish."

"Beyond doubt, good. For why should Jan Chinn make evil to those whom he has made men? The nights

over yonder are hot; it is ill to lie in one bed overlong without turning, and Jan Chinn would look again

upon his people. So he rises, whistles his Clouded Tiger, and goes abroad a little to breathe the cool air. If the

Satpura Bhils kept to their villages, and did not wander after dark, they would not see him. Indeed, Bukta, it

is no more than that he would see the light again in his own country. Send this news south, and say that it is

Bukta bowed to the floor. "Good Heavens!" thought Chinn, "and this blinking pagan is a firstclass officer,

"If the Satpura Bhils ask the meaning of the sign, tell them that Jan Chinn would see how they kept their old

promises of good living. Perhaps they have plundered; perhaps they mean to disobey the orders of the

Government; perhaps there is a dead man in the jungle; and so Jan Chinn has come to see."

"Bah! Am I ever angry with my Bhils? I say angry words, and threaten many things. Thou knowest, Bukta. I

have seen thee smile behind the hand. I know, and thou knowest. The Bhils are my children. I have said it

"And no otherwise is it with Jan Chinn, my father's father. He would see the land he loved and the people

once again. It is a good ghost, Bukta. I say it. Go and tell them. And I do hope devoutly," he added, "that it

will calm 'em down." Flinging back the tigerskin, he rose with a long, unguarded yawn that showed his

"It is true," said Bukta. "He wrapped himself in the skin, and spoke from it. He would see his own country

again. The sign is not for us; and, indeed, he is a young man. How should he lie idle of nights? He says his

bed is too hot and the air is bad. He goes to and fro for the love of nightrunning. He has said it."

"He says the Bhils are his children. Ye know he does not lie. He has said it to me."

"Nothing. It is only nightrunning, as I have said. He rides to see if they obey the Government, as he taught

"Look," said Bukta. "Now he goes away. None the less it is a good ghost, as he has said. How shall we fear

Jan Chinn, who made the Bhil a man? His protection is on us; and ye know Jan Chinn never broke a

protection spoken or written on paper. When he is older and has found him a wife he will lie in his bed till

A commanding officer is generally aware of the regimental state of mind a little before the men; and this is

why the Colonel said, a few days later, that some one had been putting the Fear of God into the Wuddars. As

he was the only person officially entitled to do this, it distressed him to see such unanimous virtue. "It's too

good to last," he said. "I only wish I could find out what the little chaps mean."

The explanation, as it seemed to him, came at the change of the moon, when he received orders to hold

himself in readiness to "allay any possible excitement" among the Satpura Bhils, who were, to put it mildly,

uneasy because a paternal Government had sent up against them a Mahratta Stateeducated vaccinator, with

lancets, lymph, and an officially registered calf. In the language of State, they had "manifested a strong

objection to all prophylactic measures," had "forcibly detained the vaccinator," and "were on the point of

"That means they are in a blue funk same as they were at censustime," said the Colonel; "and if we

stampede them into the hills we'll never catch 'em, in the first place, and, in the second, they'll whoop off

plundering till further orders. 'Wonder who the Godforsaken idiot is who is trying to vaccinate a Bhil. I

knew trouble was coming. One good thing is that they'll only use local corps, and we can knock up something

we'll call a campaign, and let them down easy. Fancy us potting our best beaters because they don't want to

"Don't you think, sir," said Chinn, the next day, "that perhaps you could give me a fortnight's

"Desertion in the face of the enemy, by Jove!" The Colonel laughed. "I might, but I'd have to antedate it a

little, because we're warned for service, as you might say. However, we'll assume that you applied for leave

"Of course, yes. I think that will be the best plan. You've some kind of hereditary influence with the little

chaps, and they may listen to you when a glimpse of our uniforms would drive them wild. You've never been

in that part of the world before, have you? Take care they don't send you to your family vault in your youth

and innocence. I believe you'll be all right if you can get 'em to listen to you."

"I think so, sir; but if if they should accidentally put an make asses of 'emselves they might, you know

I hope you'll represent that they were only frightened. There isn't an ounce of real vice in 'em, and I should

Chinn and Bukta departed at once. Bukta did not say that, ever since the official vaccinator had been dragged

into the hills by indignant Bhils, runner after runner had skulked up to the lines, entreating, with forehead in

the dust, that Jan Chinn should come and explain this unknown horror that hung over his people.

The portent of the Clouded Tiger was now too clear. Let Jan Chinn comfort his own, for vain was the help of

mortal man. Bukta toned down these beseechings to a simple request for Chinn's presence. Nothing would

have pleased the old man better than a roughandtumble campaign against the Satpuras, whom he, as an

"unmixed" Bhil, despised; but he had a duty to all his nation as Jan Chinn's interpreter; and he devoutly

believed that forty plagues would fall on his village if he tampered with that obligation. Besides, Jan Chinn

They covered thirty miles a day on foot and pony, raising the blue walllike line of the Satpuras as swiftly as

They began the steep climb a little after noon, but it was near sunset ere they reached the stone platform

clinging to the side of a rifted, junglecovered hill, where Jan Chinn the First was laid, as he had desired, that

he might overlook his people. All India is full of neglected graves that date from the beginning of the

eighteenth century tombs of forgotten colonels of corps long since disbanded; mates of East India men who

went on shooting expeditions and never came back; factors, agents, writers, and ensigns of the Honourable

the East India Company by hundreds and thousands and tens of thousands. English folk forget quickly, but

natives have long memories, and if a man has done good in his life it is remembered after his death. The

weathered marble foursquare tomb of Jan Chinn was hung about with wild flowers and nuts, packets of wax

and honey, bottles of native spirits, and infamous cigars, with buffalo horns and plumes of dried grass. At one

end was a rude clay image of a white man, in the oldfashioned tophat, riding on a bloated tiger.

Bukta salamed reverently as they approached. Chinn bared his head and began to pick out the blurred

inscription. So far as he could read it ran thus word for word, and letter for letter:

To the Memory of JOHN CHINN, Esq. Late Collector of............ ....ithout Bloodshed or...error of Authority

Employ.only..cans of Conciliat...and Confiden. accomplished the...tire Subjection... a Lawless and Predatory

Peop... ....taching them to...ish Government by a Conquest over....Minds The most perma...and rational Mode

of Domini.. ...Governor General and Counc...engal have ordered thi.....erected ....arted this Life Aug. 19,

On the other side of the grave were ancient verses, also very worn. As much as Chinn could decipher said:

....the savage band Forsook their Haunts and b.....is Command ....mended..rais check a...st for spoil. And.s.ing

Hamlets prove his gene....toil. Humanit...survey......ights restor.. A Nation..ield..subdued without a Sword.

For some little time he leaned on the tomb thinking of this dead man of his own blood, and of the house in

Devonshire; then, nodding to the plains: "Yes; it's a big work all of it even my little share. He must have been

"Not here, Sahib. No man comes here except in full sun. They wait above. Let us climb and see."

But Chinn, remembering the first law of Oriental diplomacy, in an even voice answered: "I have come this far

only because the Satpura folk are foolish, and dared not visit our lines. Now bid them wait on me here. I am

"I go I go," clucked the old man. Night was falling, and at any moment Jan Chinn might whistle up his

Now for the first time in a long life Bukta disobeyed a lawful command and deserted his leader; for he did not

come back, but pressed to the flat tabletop of the hill, and called softly. Men stirred all about him little

"Nor I, though I bore him in my arms when he was a child in this his life. Wait here till the day."

"He will be very angry, for he has nothing to eat. But he has said to me many times that the Bhils are his

children. By sunlight I believe this, but by moonlight I am not so sure. What folly have ye Satpura pigs

"One came to us in the name of the Government with little ghostknives and a magic calf, meaning to turn us

into cattle by the cutting off of our arms. We were greatly afraid, but we did not kill the man. He is here,

bound a black man; and we think he comes from the west. He said it was an order to cut us all with knives

especially the women and the children. We did not hear that it was an order, so we were afraid, and kept to

our hills. Some of our men have taken ponies and bullocks from the plains, and others pots and cloths and

"By our men? Not yet. But the young men are blown to and fro by many rumours like flames upon a hill. I

sent runners asking for Jan Chinn lest worse should come to us. It was this fear that he foretold by the sign of

He says it is otherwise," said Bukta; and he repeated, with amplifications, all that young Chinn had told him

"Think you," said the questioner, at last, "that the Government will lay hands on us?"

"Not I," Bukta rejoined. "Jan Chinn will give an order, and ye will obey. The rest is between the Government

and Jan Chinn. I myself know something of the ghostknives and the scratching. It is a charm against the

"If he stands by us and before the anger of the Government we will most strictly obey Jan Chinn, except

They could hear young Chinn below them shouting for Bukta; but they cowered and sat still, expecting the

Clouded Tiger. The tomb had been holy ground for nearly half a century. If Jan Chinn chose to sleep there,

who had better right? But they would not come within eyeshot of the place till broad day.

At first Chinn was exceedingly angry, till it occurred to him that Bukta most probably had a reason (which,

indeed, he had), and his own dignity might suffer if he yelled without answer. He propped himself against the

foot of the grave, and, alternately dozing and smoking, came through the warm night proud that he was a

He prepared his plan of action much as his grandfather would have done; and when Bukta appeared in the

morning with a most liberal supply of food, said nothing of the overnight desertion. Bukta would have been

relieved by an outburst of human anger; but Chinn finished his victual leisurely, and a cheroot, ere he made

They are very much afraid," said Bukta, who was not too bold himself. "It remains only to give orders. They

"That I know," said Chinn, strolling slowly to the tableland. A few of the elder men stood in an irregular

semicircle in an open glade; but the ruck of people women and children were hidden in the thicket. They

Seating himself on a fragment of split rock, he smoked his cheroot to the butt, hearing men breathe hard all

A scuffle and a cry were followed by the appearance of a Hindoo vaccinator, quaking with fear, bound hand

and foot, as the Bhils of old were accustomed to bind their human sacrifices. He was pushed cautiously

"I said the man that was bound. Is it a jest to bring me one tied like a buffalo? Since when could the Bhil

Half a dozen hasty knives cut away the thongs, and the man crawled to Chinn, who pocketed his case of

lancets and tubes of lymph. Then, sweeping the semicircle with one comprehensive forefinger, and in the

"I have come on foot from my house" (the assembly shuddered) "to make clear a matter which any other

Satpura Bhil would have seen with both eyes from a distance. Ye know the Smallpox who pits and scars your

children so that they look like waspcombs. It is an order of the Government that whoso is scratched on the

arm with these little knives which I hold up is charmed against her. All Sahibs are thus charmed, and very

He rolled back his sleeve to the armpit and showed the white scars of the vaccinationmark on his white skin.

A few daring spirits came up, and nodded their heads wisely. There was certainly a mark, and they knew well

what other dread marks were hidden by the shirt. Merciful was Jan Chinn, that then and there proclaimed his

"I did a hundred times; but they answered with blows," groaned the operator, chafing his wrists and ankles.

"But, being pigs, ye did not believe; and so came I here to save you, first from Smallpox, next from a great

folly of fear, and lastly, it may be, from the rope and the jail. It is no gain to me; it is no pleasure to me: but

for the sake of that one who is yonder, who made the Bhil a man" he pointed down the hill " I, who am of

his blood, the son of his son, come to turn your people. And I speak the truth, as did Jan Chinn."

The crowd murmured reverently, and men stole out of the thicket by twos and threes to join it. There was no

"These are my orders. (Heaven send they'll take 'em, but I seem to have impressed 'em so far!) I myself will

stay among you while this man scratches your arms with the knives, after the order of the Government. In

three, or it may be five or seven, days, your arms will swell and itch and burn. That is the power of Smallpox

fighting in your base blood against the orders of the Government I will therefore stay among you till I see that

Smallpox is conquered, and I will not go away till the men and the women and the little children show me

upon their arms such marks as I have even now showed you. I bring with me two very good guns, and a man

whose name is known among beasts and men. We will hunt together, I and he and your young men, and the

There was a long pause while victory hung in the balance. A whitehaired old sinner, standing on one uneasy

"There are ponies and some few bullocks and other things for which we need a kowl [protection]. They were

The battle was won, and John Chinn drew a breath of relief. The young Bhils had been raiding, but if taken

"I will write a kowl so soon as the ponies, the bullocks, and the other things are counted before me and sent

back whence they came. But first we will put the Government mark on such as have not been visited by

Smallpox." In an undertone, to the vaccinator: "If you show you are afraid you'll never see Poona again, my

"There is not sufficient ample supply of vaccination for all this population," said the man. "They destroyed

They won't know the difference. Scrape 'em and give me a couple of lancets; I'll attend to the elders."

The aged diplomat who had demanded protection was the first victim. He fell to Chinn's hand and dared not

cry out. As soon as he was freed he dragged up a companion, and held him fast, and the crisis became, as it

were, a child's sport; for the vaccinated chased the unvaccinated to treatment, vowing that all the tribe must

suffer equally. The women shrieked, and the children ran howling; but Chinn laughed, and waved the

"It is an honour," he cried. "Tell them, Bukta, how great an honour it is that I myself mark them. Nay, I

cannot mark every one the Hindoo must also do his work but I will touch all marks that he makes, so

there will be an equal virtue in them. Thus do the Rajputs stick pigs. Ho, brother with one eye! Catch that girl

and bring her to me. She need not run away yet, for she is not married, and I do not seek her in marriage. She

will not come? Then she shall be shamed by her little brother, a fat boy, a bold boy. He puts out his arm like a

soldier. Look! He does not flinch at the blood. Some day he shall be in my regiment. And now, mother of

many, we will lightly touch thee, for Smallpox has been before us here. It is a true thing, indeed, that this

charm breaks the power of Mata. There will be no more pitted faces among the Satpuras, and so ye can ask

And so on and so on quickpoured showman's patter, sauced in the Bhil huntingproverbs and tales of their

own brand of coarse humour till the lancets were blunted and both operators worn out.

But, nature being the same the world over, the unvaccinated grew jealous of their marked comrades, and

came near to blows about it. Then Chinn declared himself a court of justice, no longer a medical board, and

"We are the thieves of Mahadeo," said the Bhils, simply. "It is our fate, and we were frightened. When we are

Simply and directly as children, they gave in the tale of the plunder, all but two bullocks and some spirits that

had gone amissing (these Chinn promised to make good out of his own pocket), and ten ringleaders were

despatched to the lowlands with a wonderful document, written on the leaf of a notebook, and addressed to

an Assistant District Superintendent of Police. There was warm calamity in that note, as Jan Chinn warned

Armed with this protection, the repentant raiders went downhill. They had no desire whatever to meet Mr.

Dundas Fawne of the Police, aged twentytwo, and of a cheerful countenance, nor did they wish to revisit the

scene of their robberies. Steering a middle course, they ran into the camp of the one Government chaplain

allowed to the various irregular corps through a district of some fifteen thousand square miles, and stood

before him in a cloud of dust. He was by way of being a priest, they knew, and, what was more to the point, a

When he read Chinn's note he laughed, which they deemed a lucky omen, till he called up policemen, who

tethered the ponies and the bullocks by the piled housegear, and laid stern hands upon three of that smiling

band of the thieves of Mahadeo. The chaplain himself addressed them magisterially with a ridingwhip. That

was painful, but Jan Chinn had prophesied it. They submitted, but would not give up the written protection,

fearing the jail. On their way back they met Mr. D. Fawne, who had heard about the robberies, and was not

"Certainly," said the eldest of the gang, when the second interview was at an end, "certainly Jan Chinn's

protection has saved us our liberty, but it is as though there were many beatings in one small piece of paper.

One climbed into a tree, and stuck the letter into a cleft forty feet from the ground, where it could do no harm.

Warmed, sore, but happy, the ten returned to Jan Chinn next day, where he sat among uneasy Bhils, all

looking at their right arms, and all bound under terror of their god's disfavour not to scratch.

"It was a good kowl," said the leader. "First the chaplain, who laughed, took away our plunder, and beat three

of us, as was promised. Next, we meet Fawne Sahib, who frowned, and asked for the plunder. We spoke the

truth, and so he beat us all, one after another, and called us chosen names. He then gave us these two

bundles" they set down a bottle of whisky and a box of cheroots " and we came away. The kowl is left in a

tree, because its virtue is that so soon as we show it to a Sahib we are beaten."

"But for that kowl" said Jan Chinn, sternly, "ye would all have been marching to jail with a policeman on

either side. Ye come now to serve as beaters for me. These people are unhappy, and we will go hunting till

It is written in the chronicles of the Satpura Bhils, together with many other matters not fit for print, that

through five days, after the day that he had put his mark upon them, Jan Chinn the First hunted for his people;

and on the five nights of those days the tribe was gloriously and entirely drunk. Jan Chinn bought country

spirits of an awful strength, and slew wild pig and deer beyond counting, so that if any fell sick they might

Between head and stomachaches they found no time to think of their arms, but followed Jan Chinn

obediently through the jungles, and with each day's returning confidence men, women, and children stole

away to their villages as the little army passed by. They carried news that it was good and right to be

scratched with ghostknives; that Jan Chinn was indeed reincarnated as a god of free food and drink, and that

of all nations the Satpura Bhils stood first in his favour, if they would only refrain from scratching.

Henceforward that kindly demigod would be connected in their minds with great gorgings and the vaccine

"And tomorrow I go back to my home," said Jan Chinn to his faithful few, whom neither spirits, overeating,

nor swollen glands could conquer. It is hard for children and savages to behave reverently at all times to the

idols of their makebelief; and they had frolicked excessively with Jan Chinn. But the reference to his home

"Nay, but come as a white man come as a young man whom we know and love; for, as thou alone knowest,

we are a weak people. If we again saw thy thy horse " They were picking up their courage.

"Thou knowest the thing that thou hast chosen for a nighthorse." The little men squirmed in fear and awe.

Bukta had been a silent leader in Chinn's presence since the night of his desertion, and was grateful for a

They know, Sahib," he whispered. "It is the Clouded Tiger. That that comes from the place where thou didst

"It is no dream. Do dreams leave the tracks of broad pugs on earth? Why make two faces before thy people?

"I will stand close, and we will see to it that Jan Chinn does not ride any more."

>From Chinn's point of view the stalk was nothing more than an ordinary one downhill, through split and

crannied rocks, unsafe, perhaps, if a man did not keep his wits by him, but no worse than twenty others he

had undertaken. Yet his men they refused absolutely to beat, and would only trail dripped sweat at every

move. They showed the marks of enormous pugs that ran, always downhill, to a few hundred feet below Jan

Chinn's tomb, and disappeared in a narrowmouthed cave. It was an insolently open road, a domestic

"The beggar might be paying rent and taxes," Chinn muttered ere he asked whether his friend's taste ran to

"Cattle," was the answer. "Two heifers a week. We drive them for him at the foot of the hill. It is his custom.

"Blackmail and piracy," said Chinn. "I can't say I fancy going into the cave after him. What's to be done?"

The Bhils fell back as Chinn lodged himself behind a rock with his rifle ready. Tigers, he knew, were shy

beasts, but one who had been long cattlefed in this sumptuous style might prove overbold.

"Well, of all the infernal cheek!" said Chinn. There was an angry growl from the cave a direct challenge.

"Come out, then," Chinn shouted. "Come out of that. Let's have a look at you." The brute knew well enough

that there was some connection between brown nude Bhils and his weekly allowance; but the white helmet in

the sunlight annoyed him, and he did not approve of the voice that broke his rest. Lazily as a gorged snake, he

dragged himself out of the cave, and stood yawning and blinking at the entrance. The sunlight fell upon his

flat right side, and Chinn wondered. Never had he seen a tiger marked after this fashion. Except for his head,

which was staringly barred, he was dappled not striped, but dappled like a child's rockinghorse in rich

shades of smoky black on red gold. That portion of his belly and throat which should have been white was

He looked leisurely for some ten seconds, and then deliberately lowered his head, his chin dropped and drawn

in, staring intently at the man. The effect of this was to throw forward the round arch of his skull, with two

broad bands across it, while below the bands glared the unwinking eyes; so that, head on, as he stood, he

showed something like a diabolically scowling pantomimemask. It was a piece of natural mesmerism that

he had practised many times on his quarry, and though Chinn was by no means a terrified heifer, he stood for

a while, held by the extraordinary oddity of the attack. The head the body seemed to have been packed

away behind it the ferocious, skulllike head, crept nearer to the switching of an angry tailtip in the grass.

"My word!" he thought. "He's trying to frighten me!" and fired between the saucerlike eyes, leaping aside

A big coughing mass, reeking of carrion, bounded past him up the hill, and he followed discreetly. The tiger

made no attempt to turn into the jungle; he was hunting for sight and breath nose up, mouth open, the

Scuppered!" said John Chinn, watching the flight. "Now if he was a partridge he'd tower. Lungs must be full

The brute had jerked himself over a boulder and fallen out of sight the other side. John Chinn looked over

with a ready barrel. But the red trail led straight as an arrow even to his grandfather's tomb, and there, among

the smashed spiritbottles and the fragments of the mud image, the life left, with a flurry and a grunt.

"If my worthy ancestor could see that," said John Chinn, "he'd have been proud of me. Eyes, lower jaw, and

lungs. A very nice shot." He whistled for Bukta as he drew the tape over the stiffening bulk.

"Ten six eight by Jove! It's nearly eleven call it eleven. Forearm, twentyfour five seven and a

half. A short tail, too: three feet one. But what a skin! Oh, Bukta! Bukta! The men with the knives swiftly."

"That was not the way I killed my first tiger," said Chinn. "I did not think that Bukta would run. I had no

Whether all the Bhils, vaccinated and unvaccinated, of the Satpuras had lain by to see the kill, Chinn could

not say; but the whole hill's flank rustled with little men, shouting, singing, and stamping. And yet, till he had

made the first cut in the splendid skin, not a man would take a knife; and, when the shadows fell, they ran

from the redstained tomb, and no persuasion would bring them back till dawn. So Chinn spent a second

night in the open, guarding the carcass from jackals, and thinking about his ancestor.

He returned to the lowlands to the triumphal chant of an escorting army three hundred strong, the Mahratta

vaccinator close at his elbow, and the rudely dried skin a trophy before him. When that army suddenly and

noiselessly disappeared, as quail in high corn, he argued he was near civilisation, and a turn in the road

brought him upon the camp of a wing of his own corps. He left the skin on a carttail for the world to see,

"They're perfectly right," he explained earnestly. "There isn't an ounce of vice in 'em. They were only

frightened. I've vaccinated the whole boiling, and they like it awfully. What are what are we doing here,

"That's what I'm trying to find out," said the Colonel. "I don't know yet whether we're a piece of a brigade or

a police force. However, I think we'll call ourselves a police force. How did you manage to get a Bhil

"Well, sir," said Chinn, " I've been thinking it over, and, as far as I can make out, I've got a sort of hereditary

"It's rather rummy. It seems, from what I can make out, that I'm my own grandfather reincarnated, and I've

been disturbing the peace of the country by riding a padtiger of nights. If I hadn't done that, I don't think

they'd have objected to the vaccination; but the two together were more than they could stand. And so, sir,

I've vaccinated 'em, and shot my tigerhorse as a sort o' proof of good faith. You never saw such a skin in

The Colonel tugged his moustache thoughtfully. "Now, how the deuce," said he, "am I to include that in my

Indeed, the official version of the Bhils' antivaccination stampede said nothing about Lieutenant John

Chinn, his godship. But Bukta knew, and the corps knew, and every Bhil in the Satpura hills knew.

And now Bukta is zealous that John Chinn shall swiftly be wedded and impart his powers to a son; for if the

Chinn succession fails, and the little Bhils are left to their own imaginings, there will be fresh trouble in the

All supplies very bad and dear, and there are no facilities for even the smallest repairs. Sailing Directions.

Her nationality was British, but you will not find her houseflag in the list of our mercantile marine. She was

a ninehundredton, iron, schoonerrigged, screw cargoboat, differing externally in no way from any other

tramp of the sea. But it is with steamers as it is with men. There are those who will for a consideration sail

extremely close to the wind; and, in the present state of a fallen world, such people and such steamers have

their use. From the hour that the Aglaia first entered the Clyde new, shiny, and innocent, with a quart of

cheap champagne trickling down her cutwater Fate and her owner, who was also her captain, decreed that

she should deal with embarrassed crowned heads, fleeing Presidents, financiers of overextended ability,

women to whom change of air was imperative, and the lesser lawbreaking Powers. Her career led her

sometimes into the Admiralty Courts, where the sworn statements of her skipper filled his brethren with

envy. The mariner cannot tell or act a lie in the face of the sea, or mislead a tempest; but, as lawyers have

discovered, he makes up for chances withheld when he returns to shore, an affidavit in either hand.

The Aglaia figured with distinction in the great Mackinaw salvagecase. It was her first slip from virtue, and

she learned how to change her name, but not her heart, and to run across the sea. As the Guiding Light she

was very badly wanted in a South American port for the little matter of entering harbour at full speed,

colliding with a coalhulk and the State's only manofwar, just as that manofwar was going to coal. She

put to sea without explanations, though three forts fired at her for half an hour. As the Julia M'Gregor she had

been concerned in picking up from a raft certain gentlemen who should have stayed in Noumea, but who

preferred making themselves vastly unpleasant to authority in quite another quarter of the world; and as the

ShahinShah she had been overtaken on the high seas, indecently full of munitions of war, by the cruiser of

an agitated Power at issue with its neighbour. That time she was very nearly sunk, and her riddled hull gave

eminent lawyers of two countries great profit. After a season she reappeared as the Martin Hunt painted a dull

slatecolour, with pure saffron funnel, and boats of robin'segg blue, engaging in the Odessa trade till she

was invited (and the invitation could not well be disregarded) to keep away from Black Sea ports altogether.

She had ridden through many waves of depression. Freights might drop out of sight, Seamen's Unions throw

spanners and nuts at certificated masters, or stevedores combine till cargo perished on the dockhead; but the

boat of many names came and went, busy, alert, and inconspicuous always. Her skipper made no complaint

of hard times, and port officers observed that her crew signed and signed again with the regularity of Atlantic

liner boatswains. Her name she changed as occasion called; her wellpaid crew never; and a large percentage

of the profits of her voyages was spent with an open hand on her engineroom. She never troubled the

underwriters, and very seldom stopped to talk with a signalstation, for her business was urgent and private.

But an end came to her tradings, and she perished in this manner. Deep peace brooded over Europe, Asia,

Africa, America, Australasia, and Polynesia. The Powers dealt together more or less honestly; banks paid

their depositors to the hour; diamonds of price came safely to the hands of their owners; Republics rested

content with their Dictators; diplomats found no one whose presence in the least incommoded them;

monarchs lived openly with their lawfully wedded wives. It was as though the whole earth had put on its best

Sunday bib and tucker; and business was very bad for the Martin Hunt. The great, virtuous calm engulfed her,

slate sides, yellow funnel, and all, but cast up in another hemisphere the steam whaler Haliotis, black and

rusty, with a manurecoloured funnel, a litter of dingy white boats, and an enormous stove, or furnace, for

boiling blubber on her forward welldeck. There could be no doubt that her trip was successful, for she lay at

several ports not too well known, and the smoke of her tryingout insulted the beaches.

Anon she departed, at the speed of the average London fourwheeler, and entered a semiinland sea, warm,

still, and blue, which is, perhaps, the most strictly preserved water in the world. There she stayed for a certain

time, and the great stars of those mild skies beheld her playing pussinthecorner among islands where

whales are never found. All that while she smelt abominably, and the smell, though fishy, was not

whalesome. One evening calamity descended upon her from the island of PygangWatai, and she fled, while

her crew jeered at a fat blackandbrown gunboat puffing far behind. They knew to the last revolution the

capacity of every boat, on those seas, that they were anxious to avoid. A British ship with a good conscience

does not, as a rule, flee from the manofwar of a foreign Power, and it is also considered a breach of

etiquette to stop and search British ships at sea. These things the skipper of the Haliotis did not pause to

prove, but held on at an inspiriting eleven knots an hour till nightfall. One thing only he overlooked.

The Power that kept an expensive steampatrol moving up and down those waters (they had dodged the two

regular ships of the station with an ease that bred contempt) had newly brought up a third and a

fourteenknot boat with a clean bottom to help the work; and that was why the Haliotis, driving hard from

the east to the west, found herself at daylight in such a position that she could not help seeing an arrangement

of four flags, a mile and a half behind, which read: "Heave to, or take the consequences!"

She had her choice, and she took it. The end came when, presuming on her lighter draught, she tried to draw

away northward over a friendly shoal. The shell that arrived by way of the Chief Engineer's cabin was some

five inches in diameter, with a practice, not a bursting, charge. It had been intended to cross her bows, and

that was why it knocked the framed portrait of the Chief Engineer's wife and she was a very pretty girl on

to the floor, splintered his washhand stand, crossed the alleyway into the engineroom, and striking on a

grating, dropped directly in front of the forward engine, where it burst, neatly fracturing both the bolts that

What follows is worth consideration. The forward engine had no more work to do. Its released pistonrod,

therefore, drove up fiercely, with nothing to check it, and started most of the nuts of the cylindercover. It

came down again, the full weight of the steam behind it, and the foot of the disconnected connectingrod,

useless as the leg of a man with a sprained ankle, flung out to the right and struck the starboard, or

righthand, castiron supportingcolumn of the forward engine, cracking it clean through about six inches

above the base, and wedging the upper portion outwards three inches towards the ship's side. There the

connectingrod jammed. Meantime, the afterengine, being as yet unembarrassed, went on with its work,

and in so doing brought round at its next revolution the crank of the forward engine, which smote the already

jammed connectingrod, bending it and therewith the pistonrod crosshead the big crosspiece that slides

The crosshead jammed sideways in the guides, and, in addition to putting further pressure on the already

broken starboard supportingcolumn, cracked the port, or lefthand, supportingcolumn in two or three

places. There being nothing more that could be made to move, the engines brought up, all standing, with a

hiccup that seemed to lift the Haliotis a foot out of the water; and the engineroom staff, opening every steam

outlet that they could find in the confusion, arrived on deck somewhat scalded, but calm. There was a sound

below of things happening a rushing, clicking, purring, grunting, rattling noise that did not last for more

than a minute. It was the machinery adjusting itself, on the spur of the moment, to a hundred altered

conditions. Mr. Wardrop, one foot on the upper grating, inclined his ear sideways, and groaned. You cannot

stop engines working at twelve knots an hour in three seconds without disorganising them. The Haliotis slid

forward in a cloud of steam, shrieking like a wounded horse. There was nothing more to do. The fiveinch

shell with a reduced charge had settled the situation. And when you are full, all three holds, of strictly

preserved pearls; when you have cleaned out the Tanna Bank, the SeaHorse Bank, and four other banks

from one end to the other of the Amanala Sea when you have ripped out the very heart of a rich

Government monopoly so that five years will not repair your wrongdoings you must smile and take what

is in store. But the skipper reflected, as a launch put out from the manofwar, that he had been bombarded

on the high seas, with the British flag several of them picturesquely disposed above him, and tried to find

Where," said the stolid naval lieutenant hoisting himself aboard, "where are those dam' pearls?"

They were there beyond evasion. No affidavit could do away with the fearful smell of decayed oysters, the

divingdresses, and the shelllittered hatches. They were there to the value of seventy thousand pounds,

The manofwar was annoyed; for she had used up many tons of coal, she had strained her tubes, and, worse

than all, her officers and crew had been hurried. Every one on the Haliotis was arrested and rearrested several

times, as each officer came aboard; then they were told by what they esteemed to be the equivalent of a

midshipman that they were to consider themselves prisoners, and finally were put under arrest.

It's not the least good," said the skipper, suavely. "You'd much better send us a tow "

"Where the devil do you expect we are going to escape to?" We're helpless. You've got to tow us into

somewhere, and explain why you fired on us. Mr. Wardrop, we're helpless, aren't we?"

"Ruined from end to end," said the man of machinery. "If she rolls, the forward cylinder will come down and

go through her bottom. Both columns are clean cut through. There's nothing to hold anything up."

The council of war clanked off to see if Mr. Wardrop's words were true. He warned them that it was as much

as a man's life was worth to enter the engineroom, and they contented themselves with a distant inspection

through the thinning steam. The Haliotis lifted to the long, easy swell, and the starboard supportingcolumn

ground a trifle, as a man grits his teeth under the knife. The forward cylinder was depending on that unknown

force men call the pertinacity of materials, which now and then balances that other heartbreaking power, the

"You see!" said Mr. Wardrop, hurrying them away. "The engines aren't worth their price as old iron."

The manofwar was shorthanded, and did not see the necessity for putting a prizecrew aboard the

Haliotis. So she sent one sublieutenant, whom the skipper kept very drunk, for he did not wish to make the

tow too easy, and, moreover, he had an inconspicuous little rope hanging from the stem of his ship.

Then they began to tow at an average speed of four knots an hour. The Haliotis was very hard to move, and

the gunnerylieutenant, who had fired the fiveinch shell, had leisure to think upon consequences. Mr.

Wardrop was the busy man. He borrowed all the crew to shore up the cylinders with spars and blocks from

the bottom and sides of the ship. It was a day's risky work; but anything was better than drowning at the end

of a towrope; and if the forward cylinder had fallen, it would have made its way to the seabed, and taken

"Where are we going to, and how long will they tow us?" he asked of the skipper.

"There's just the bare chance," Mr. Wardrop whispered, though no one was within hearing "there's just the

bare chance o' repairin' her, if a man knew how. They've twisted the very guts out of her, bringing her up with

that jerk; but I'm saying that, with time and patience, there's just the chance o' making steam yet. We could do

"Oh, no," said Mr. Wardrop. "She'll need three thousand pounds in repairs, at the lowest, if she's to take the

sea again, an' that apart from any injury to her structure. She's like a man fallen down five pair o' stairs. We

can't tell for months what has happened; but we know she'll never be good again without a new inside. Ye

should see the condensertubes an' the steam connections to the donkey, for two things only. I'm not afraid of

"Our reputation's not good enough to ask for explanations. Let's take what we have and be thankful. Ye

would not have consuls remembern' the Guidin' Light, an' the ShahinShah, an' the Aglaia, at this most

alarmin' crisis. We've been no better than pirates these ten years. Under Providence we're no worse than

"I'll leave none," said Mr. Wardrop "none that they'll dare to take. Keep her heavy on the tow, for we need

The skipper never interfered with the affairs of the engineroom, and Mr. Wardrop an artist in his

profession turned to and composed a work terrible and forbidding. His background was the darkgrained

sides of the engineroom; his material the metals of power and strength, helped out with spars, baulks, and

ropes. The manofwar towed sullenly and viciously. The Haliotis behind her hummed like a hive before

swarming. With extra and totally unneeded spars her crew blocked up the space round the forward engine till

it resembled a statue in its scaffolding, and the butts of the shores interfered with every view that a

dispassionate eye might wish to take. And that the dispassionate mind might be swiftly shaken out of its

calm, the wellsunk bolts of the shores were wrapped round untidily with loose ends of ropes, giving a

studied effect of most dangerous insecurity. Next, Mr. Wardrop took up a collection from the afterengine,

which, as you will remember, had not been affected in the general wreck. The cylinder escapevalve he

abolished with a flogginghammer. It is difficult in faroff ports to come by such valves, unless, like Mr.

Wardrop, you keep duplicates in store. At the same time men took off the nuts of two of the great

holdingdown bolts that serve to keep the engines in place on their solid bed. An engine violently arrested in

midcareer may easily jerk off the nut of a holdingdown bolt, and this accident looked very natural.

Passing along the tunnel, he removed several shaft couplingbolts and nuts, scattering other and ancient

pieces of iron underfoot. Cylinderbolts he cut off to the number of six from the afterengine cylinder, so

that it might match its neighbour, and stuffed the bilge and feedpumps with cottonwaste. Then he made

up a neat bundle of the various odds and ends that he had gathered from the engines little things like nuts

and valvespindles, all carefully tallowed and retired with them under the floor of the engineroom, where

he sighed, being fat, as he passed from manhole to manhole of the double bottom, and in a fairly dry

submarine compartment hid them. Any engineer, particularly in an unfriendly port, has a right to keep his

spare stores where he chooses; and the foot of one of the cylinder shores blocked all entrance into the regular

storeroom, even if that had not been already closed with steel wedges. In conclusion, he disconnected the

afterengine, laid piston and connectingrod, carefully tallowed, where it would be most inconvenient to the

casual visitor, took out three of the eight collars of the thrustblock, hid them where only he could find them

again, filled the boilers by hand, wedged the sliding doors of the coalbunkers, and rested from his labours.

The engineroom was a cemetery, and it did not need the contents of the ashlift through the skylight to

Saw ye ever such a forsaken wreck as that?" said he, proudly. "It almost frights me to go under those shores.

He was not wrong. The pleasant days of towing ended all too soon, though the Haliotis trailed behind her a

heavily weighted jib stayed out into the shape of a pocket; and Mr. Wardrop was no longer an artist of

imagination, but one of sevenandtwenty prisoners in a prison full of insects. The manofwar had towed

them to the nearest port, not to the headquarters of the colony, and when Mr. Wardrop saw the dismal little

harbour, with its ragged line of Chinese junks, its one crazy tug, and the boatbuilding shed that, under the

charge of a philosophical Malay, represented a dockyard, he sighed and shook his head.

"I did well," he said. "This is the habitation o' wreckers an' thieves. We're at the uttermost ends of the earth.

They were marched ashore with what they stood up in, under a generous escort, and were judged according to

the customs of the country, which, though excellent, are a little out of date. There were the pearls; there were

the poachers; and there sat a small but hot Governor. He consulted for a while, and then things began to move

with speed, for he did not wish to keep a hungry crew at large on the beach, and the manofwar had gone up

the coast. With a wave of his hand a stroke of the pen was not necessary he consigned them to the black

gangtana, the backcountry, and the hand of the Law removed them from his sight and the knowledge of

men. They were marched into the palms, and the backcountry swallowed them up all the crew of the

Deep peace continued to brood over Europe, Asia, Africa, America, Australasia, and Polynesia.

It was the firing that did it. They should have kept their counsel; but when a few thousand foreigners are

bursting with joy over the fact that a ship under the British flag has been fired at on the high seas, news

travels quickly; and when it came out that the pearlstealing crew had not been allowed access to their consul

(there was no consul within a few hundred miles of that lonely port) even the friendliest of Powers has a right

to ask questions. The great heart of the British public was beating furiously on account of the performance of

a notorious racehorse, and had not a throb to waste on distant accidents; but somewhere deep in the hull of

the ship of State there is machinery which more or less accurately takes charge of foreign affairs. That

machinery began to revolve, and who so shocked and surprised as the Power that had captured the Haliotis? It

explained that colonial governors and faraway menofwar were difficult to control, and promised that it

would most certainly make an example both of the Governor and the vessel. As for the crew reported to be

pressed into military service in tropical climes, it would produce them as soon as possible, and it would

apologise, if necessary. Now, no apologies were needed. When one nation apologises to another, millions of

amateurs who have no earthly concern with the difficulty hurl themselves into the strife and embarrass the

trained specialist. It was requested that the crew be found, if they were still alive they had been eight

The little Governor of the little port was pleased with himself. Sevenandtwenty white men made a very

compact force to throw away on a war that had neither beginning nor end a jungle and stockade fight that

flickered and smouldered through the wet hot years in the hills a hundred miles away, and was the heritage of

every wearied official. He had, he thought, deserved well of his country; and if only some one would buy the

unhappy Haliotis, moored in the harbour below his verandah, his cup would be full. He looked at the neatly

silvered lamps that he had taken from her cabins, and thought of much that might be turned to account. But

his countrymen in that moist climate had no spirit. They would peep into the silent engineroom, and shake

their heads. Even the menofwar would not tow her further up the coast, where the Governor believed that

she could be repaired. She was a bad bargain; but her cabin carpets were undeniably beautiful, and his wife

Three hours later cables were bursting round him like shells, for, though he knew it not, he was being offered

as a sacrifice by the nether to the upper millstone, and his superiors had no regard for his feelings. He had,

said the cables, grossly exceeded his power, and failed to report on events. He would, therefore at this he

cast himself back in his hammock produce the crew of the Haliotis. He would send for them, and, if that

failed, he would put his dignity on a pony and fetch them himself. He had no conceivable right to make

Next morning the cables wished to know whether he had found the crew of the Haliotis. They were to be

found, freed and fed he was to feed them till such time as they could be sent to the nearest English port in

a manofwar. If you abuse a man long enough in great words flashed over the seabeds, things happen. The

Governor sent inland swiftly for his prisoners, who were also soldiers; and never was a militia regiment more

anxious to reduce its strength. No power short of death could make these mad men wear the uniform of their

service. They would not fight, except with their fellows, and it was for that reason the regiment had not gone

to war, but stayed in a stockade, reasoning with the new troops. The autumn campaign had been a fiasco, but

here were the Englishmen. All the regiment marched back to guard them, and the hairy enemy, armed with

blowpipes, rejoiced in the forest. Five of the crew had died, but there lined up on the Governor's verandah

twoandtwenty men marked about the legs with the scars of leechbites. A few of them wore fringes that

had once been trousers; the others used loincloths of gay patterns; and they existed beautifully but simply in

the Governor's verandah, and when he came out they sang at him. When you have lost seventy thousand

pounds' worth of pearls, your pay, your ship, and all your clothes, and have lived in bondage for five months

beyond the faintest pretences of civilisation, you know what true independence means, for you become the

The Governor told the crew that they were evil, and they asked for food. When he saw how they ate, and

when he remembered that none of the pearl patrolboats were expected for two months, he sighed. But the

crew of the Haliotis lay down in the verandah, and said that they were pensioners of the Governor's bounty. A

greybearded man, fat and baldheaded, his one garment a greenandyellow loincloth, saw the Haliotis in

the harbour, and bellowed for joy. The men crowded to the verandahrail, kicking aside the long cane chairs.

They pointed, gesticulated, and argued freely, without shame. The militia regiment sat down in the

Governor's garden. The Governor retired to his hammock it was as easy to be killed lying as standing and

"She sold?" said the greybearded man, pointing to the Haliotis. He was Mr. Wardrop.

"He's taken my lamps, though," said the skipper. He wore one leg of a pair of trousers, and his eye wandered

along the verandah. The Governor quailed. There were cuddy campstools and the skipper's writingtable in

"They've cleaned her out, o' course," said Mr. Wardrop. "They would. We'll go aboard and take an inventory.

They flocked down to the harbourfront, the militia regiment clattering behind, and embarked themselves in

what they found it happened to be the Governor's boat. Then they disappeared over the bulwarks of the

Mr. Wardrop's first bound took him to the engineroom; and when the others were patting the

wellremembered decks, they heard him giving God thanks that things were as he had left them. The

wrecked engines stood over his head untouched; no inexpert hand had meddled with his shores; the steel

wedges of the storeroom were rusted home; and, best of all, the hundred and sixty tons of good Australian

"I don't understand it," said Mr. Wardrop. "Any Malay knows the use o' copper. They ought to have cut away

the pipes. And with Chinese junks coming here, too. It's a special interposition o' Providence."

"You think so," said the skipper, from above. "There's only been one thief here, and he's cleaned her out of all

Here the skipper spoke less than the truth, for under the planking of his cabin, only to be reached by a chisel,

lay a little money which never drew any interest his sheetanchor to windward. It was all in clean

sovereigns that pass current the world over, and might have amounted to more than a hundred pounds.

The Haliotis, except as to her engineroom, had been systematically and scientifically gutted from one end to

the other, and there was strong evidence that an unclean guard had camped in the skipper's cabin to regulate

that plunder. She lacked glass, plate, crockery, cutlery, mattresses, cuddy carpets and chairs, all boats, and her

copper ventilators. These things had been removed, with her sails and as much of the wire rigging as would

"He must have sold those," said the skipper. "The other things are in his house, I suppose."

Every fitting that could be pried or screwed out was gone. Port, starboard, and masthead lights; teak gratings;

sliding sashes of the deckhouse; the captain's chest of drawers, with charts and charttable; photographs,

brackets, and lookingglasses; cabin doors; rubber cuddy mats; hatchirons; half the funnelstays; cork

fenders; carpenter's grindstone and toolchest; holystones, swabs, squeegees; all cabin and pantry lamps;

galleyfittings en bloc; flags and flaglocker; clocks, chronometers; the forward compass and the ship's bell

There were great scarred marks on the deckplanking over which the cargoderricks had been hauled. One

must have fallen by the way, for the bulwarkrails were smashed and bent and the sideplates bruised.

"It's the Governor," said the skipper "He's been selling her on the instalment plan."

"Let's go up with spanners and shovels, and kill 'em all," shouted the crew. "Let's drown him, and keep the

"Then we'll be shot by that blackandtan regiment our regiment. What's the trouble ashore? They've

"We're cut off; that's all. Go and see what they want," said Mr. Wardrop. "You've the trousers."

In his simple way the Governor was a strategist. He did not desire that the crew of the Haliotis should come

ashore again, either singly or in detachments, and he proposed to turn their steamer into a convicthulk. They

would wait he explained this from the quay to the skipper in the barge and they would continue to wait

till the manofwar came along, exactly where they were. If one of them set foot ashore, the entire regiment

would open fire, and he would not scruple to use the two cannon of the town. Meantime food would be sent

daily in a boat under an armed escort. The skipper, bare to the waist, and rowing, could only grind his teeth;

and the Governor improved the occasion, and revenged himself for the bitter words in the cables, by saying

what he thought of the morals and manners of the crew. The barge returned to the Haliotis in silence, and the

"I knew it," said Mr. Wardrop; "and they won't give us good food, either. We shall have bananas morning,

Then the skipper cursed Mr. Wardrop for importing frivolous sideissues into the conversation; and the crew

cursed one another, and the Haliotis, the voyage, and all that they knew or could bring to mind. They sat

down in silence on the empty decks, and their eyes burned in their heads. The green harbour water chuckled

at them overside. They looked at the palmfringed hills inland, at the white houses above the harbour road, at

the single tier of native craft by the quay, at the stolid soldiery sitting round the two cannon, and, last of all, at

the blue bar of the horizon. Mr. Wardrop was buried in thought, and scratched imaginary lines with his

"I make no promise," he said, at last, "for I can't say what may or may not have happened to them. But here's

There was a little scornful laughter at this, and Mr. Wardrop knitted his brows. He recalled that in the days

"Here, sir!" The instinct of obedience waked to answer the rollcall of the engineroom.

"Captain, I'll trouble you for the rest of the men as I want them. We'll get my stores out, and clear away the

shores we don't need, and then we'll patch her up. My men will remember that they're in the Haliotis, under

He went into the engineroom, and the others stared. They were used to the accidents of the sea, but this was

beyond their experience. None who had seen the engineroom believed that anything short of new engines

The engineroom stores were unearthed, and Mr. Wardrop's face, red with the filth of the bilges and the

exertion of travelling on his stomach, lit with joy. The spare gear of the Haliotis had been unusually

complete, and twoandtwenty men, armed with screwjacks, differential blocks, tackle, vices, and a forge

or so, can look Kismet between the eyes without winking. The crew were ordered to replace the

holdingdown and shaftbearing bolts, and return the collars of the thrustblock. When they had finished,

Mr. Wardrop delivered a lecture on repairing compound engines without the aid of the shops, and the men sat

about on the cold machinery. The crosshead jammed in the guides leered at them drunkenly, but offered no

help. They ran their fingers hopelessly into the cracks of the starboard supportingcolumn, and picked at the

ends of the ropes round the shores, while Mr. Wardrop's voice rose and fell echoing, till the quick tropic night

Next morning the work of reconstruction began. It has been explained that the foot of the connectingrod was

forced against the foot of the starboard supportingcolumn, which it had cracked through and driven outward

towards the ship's skin. To all appearance the job was more than hopeless, for rod and column seemed to

have been welded into one. But herein Providence smiled on them for one moment to hearten them through

the weary weeks ahead. The second engineer more reckless than resourceful struck at random with a cold

chisel into the castiron of the column, and a greasy, grey flake of metal flew from under the imprisoned foot

of the connectingrod, while the rod itself fell away slowly, and brought up with a thunderous clang

somewhere in the dark of the crankpit. The guidesplates above were still jammed fast in the guides, but the

first blow had been struck. They spent the rest of the day grooming the donkeyengine, which stood

immediately forward of the engineroom hatch. Its tarpaulin, of course, had been stolen, and eight warm

months had not improved the working parts. Further, the last dying hiccup of the Haliotis seemed or it

might have been the Malay from the boathouse to have lifted the thing bodily on its bolts, and set it down

"If we only had one single cargoderrick!" Mr. Wardrop sighed. "We can take the cylindercover off by

hand, if we sweat; but to get the rod out o' the piston's not possible unless we use steam. Well, there'll be

Next morning men from the shore saw the Haliotis through a cloud, for it was as though the deck smoked.

Her crew were chasing steam through the shaken and leaky pipes to its work in the forward donkeyengine;

and where oakum failed to plug a crack, they stripped off their loincloths for lapping, and swore,

halfboiled and mothernaked. The donkeyengine worked at a price the price of constant attention and

furious stoking worked long enough to allow a wirerope (it was made up of a funnel and a foremaststay)

to be led into the engineroom and made fast on the cylindercover of the forward engine. That rose easily

enough, and was hauled through the skylight and on to the deck, many hands assisting the doubtful steam.

Then came the tug of war, for it was necessary to get to the piston and the jammed pistonrod. They removed

two of the piston junkring studs, screwed in two strong iron eyebolts by way of handles, doubled the

wirerope, and set half a dozen men to smite with an extemporised batteringram at the end of the

pistonrod, where it peered through the piston, while the donkeyengine hauled upwards on the piston itself.

After four hours of this furious work, the pistonrod suddenly slipped, and the piston rose with a jerk,

knocking one or two men over into the engineroom. But when Mr. Wardrop declared that the piston had not

split, they cheered, and thought nothing of their wounds; and the donkeyengine was hastily stopped; its

And day by day their supplies reached them by boat. The skipper humbled himself once more before the

Governor, and as a concession had leave to get drinkingwater from the Malay boatbuilder on the quay. It

was not good drinkingwater, but the Malay was anxious to supply anything in his power, if he were paid for

Now when the jaws of the forward engine stood, as it were, stripped and empty, they began to wedge up the

shores of the cylinder itself. That work alone filled the better part of three days warm and sticky days, when

the hands slipped and sweat ran into the eyes. When the last wedge was hammered home there was no longer

an ounce of weight on the supportingcolumns; and Mr. Wardrop rummaged the ship for boilerplate

threequarters of an inch thick, where he could find it. There was not much available, but what there was was

more than beaten gold to him. In one desperate forenoon the entire crew, naked and lean, haled back, more or

less into place, the starboard supportingcolumn, which, as you remember, was cracked clean through. Mr.

Wardrop found them asleep where they had finished the work, and gave them a day's rest, smiling upon them

as a father while he drew chalkmarks about the cracks. They woke to new and more trying labour; for over

each one of those cracks a plate of threequarterinch boileriron was to be worked hot, the rivetholes

being drilled by hand. All that time they were fed on fruits, chiefly bananas, with some sago.

Those were the days when men swooned over the ratchetdrill and the handforge, and where they fell they

had leave to lie unless their bodies were in the way of their fellows' feet. And so, patch upon patch, and a

patch over all, the starboard supportingcolumn was clouted; but when they thought all was secure, Mr.

Wardrop decreed that the noble patchwork would never support working engines; at the best, it could only

hold the guidebars approximately true. he deadweight of the cylinders must be borne by vertical struts; and,

therefore, a gang would repair to the bows, and take out, with files, the big bowanchor davits, each of which

was some three inches in diameter. They threw hot coals at Wardrop, and threatened to kill him, those who

did not weep (they were ready to weep on the least provocation); but he hit them with iron bars heated at the

end, and they limped forward, and the davits came with them when they returned. They slept sixteen hours on

the strength of it, and in three days two struts were in place, bolted from the foot of the starboard

supportingcolumn to the under side of the cylinder. There remained now the port, or condensercolumn,

which, though not so badly cracked as its fellow, had also been strengthened in four places with boilerplate

patches, but needed struts. They took away the main stanchions of the bridge for that work, and, crazy with

toil, did not see till all was in place that the rounded bars of iron must be flattened from top to bottom to

allow the airpump levers to clear them. It was Wardrop's oversight, and he wept bitterly before the men as

he gave the order to unbolt the struts and flatten them with hammer and the flame. Now the broken engine

was underpinned firmly, and they took away the wooden shores from under the cylinders, and gave them to

the robbed bridge, thanking God for even half a day's work on gentle, kindly wood instead of the iron that

had entered into their souls. Eight months in the backcountry among the leeches, at a temperature of 84

They had kept the hardest work to the last, as boys save Latin prose, and, worn though they were, Mr.

Wardrop did not dare to give them rest. The pistonrod and connectingrod were to be straightened, and this

was a job for a regular dockyard with every appliance. They fell to it, cheered by a little chalk showing of

work done and time consumed which Mr. Wardrop wrote up on the engineroom bulkhead. Fifteen days had

It is curious that no man knows how the rods were straightened. The crew of the Haliotis remember that week

very dimly, as a fever patient remembers the delirium of a long night. There were fires everywhere, they say;

the whole ship was one consuming furnace, and the hammers were never still. Now, there could not have

been more than one fire at the most, for Mr. Wardrop distinctly recalls that no straightening was done except

under his own eye. They remember, too, that for many years voices gave orders which they obeyed with their

bodies, but their minds were abroad on all the seas. It seems to them that they stood through days and nights

slowly sliding a bar backwards and forwards through a white glow that was part of the ship. They remember

an intolerable noise in their burning heads from the walls of the stokehole, and they remember being

savagely beaten by men whose eyes seemed asleep. When their shift was over they would draw straight lines

in the air, anxiously and repeatedly, and would question one another in their sleep, crying, "Is she straight?"

At last they do not remember whether this was by day or by night Mr. Wardrop began to dance clumsily,

and wept the while; and they too danced and wept, and went to sleep twitching all over; and when they woke,

men said that the rods were straightened, and no one did any work for two days, but lay on the decks and ate

fruit. Mr. Wardrop would go below from time to time, and pat the two rods where they lay, and they heard

Then his trouble of mind went from him, and at the end of the third day's idleness he made a drawing in chalk

upon the deck, with letters of the alphabet at the angles. He pointed out that, though the pistonrod was more

or less straight, the pistonrod crosshead the thing that had been jammed sideways in the guides had

been badly strained, and had cracked the lower end of the pistonrod. He was going to forge and shrink a

wroughtiron collar on the neck of the pistonrod where it joined the crosshead, and from the collar he

would bolt a Yshaped piece of iron whose lower arms should be bolted into the crosshead. If anything

So the forges were lit again, and men burned their bodies, but hardly felt the pain. The finished connection

was not beautiful, but it seemed strong enough at least, as strong as the rest of the machinery; and with that

job their labours came to an end. All that remained was to connect up the engines, and to get food and water.

The skipper and four men dealt with the Malay boatbuilder by night chiefly; it was no time to haggle over

the price of sago and dried fish. The others stayed aboard and replaced piston, pistonrod, cylindercover,

crosshead, and bolts, with the aid of the faithful donkeyengine. The cylindercover was hardly

steamproof, and the eye of science might have seen in the connectingrod a flexure something like that of a

Christmastree candle which has melted and been straightened by hand over a stove, but, as Mr. Wardrop

As soon as the last bolt was in place, men tumbled over one another in their anxiety to get to the hand

startinggear, the wheel and worm, by which some engines can be moved when there is no steam aboard.

They nearly wrenched off the wheel, but it was evident to the blindest eye that the engines stirred. They did

not revolve in their orbits with any enthusiasm, as good machines should; indeed, they groaned not a little;

but they moved over and came to rest in a way which proved that they still recognised man's hand. Then Mr.

Wardrop sent his slaves into the darker bowels of the engineroom and the stokehole, and followed them

with a flarelamp. The boilers were sound, but would take no harm from a little scaling and cleaning. Mr.

Wardrop would not have any one overzealous, for he feared what the next stroke of the tool might show.

"The less we know about her now," said he, "the better for us all, I'm thinkin'. Ye'll understand me when I say

As his raiment, when he spoke, was his grey beard and uncut hair, they believed him. They did not ask too

much of what they met, but polished and tallowed and scraped it to a false brilliancy.

"A lick of paint would make me easier in my mind," said Mr. Wardrop, plaintively. "I know half the

condensertubes are started; and the propellershaftin''s God knows how far out of the true, and we'll need a

new airpump, an' the mainsteam leaks like a sieve, and there's worse each way I look; but paint's like

The skipper unearthed some stale ropy paint of the loathsome green that they used for the galleys of

sailingships, and Mr. Wardrop spread it abroad lavishly to give the engines selfrespect.

His own was returning day by day, for he wore his loincloth continuously; but the crew, having worked

under orders, did not feel as he did. The completed work satisfied Mr. Wardrop. He would at the last have

made shift to run to Singapore, and gone home without vengeance taken to show his engines to his brethren

in the craft; but the others and the captain forbade him. They had not yet recovered their selfrespect.

"It would be safer to make what ye might call a trial trip, but beggars mustn't be choosers; an if the engines

will go over to the handgear, the probability I'm only saying it's a probability the chance is that they'll

"God knows! Four hours a day half a week. If I can raise sixty pound I'll not complain."

"My soul and body, man, we're one continuous breakdown, fore an' aft! We might fetch Singapore, though."

"We'll break down at PygangWatai, where we can do good," was the answer, in a voice that did not allow

No man saw the Haliotis depart, though many heard her. She left at two in the morning, having cut her

moorings, and it was none of her crew's pleasure that the engines should strike up a thundering

halfseasover chanty that echoed among the hills. Mr. Wardrop wiped away a tear as he listened to the new

"She's gibberin' she's just gibberin'," he whimpered. "Yon's the voice of a maniac.

And if engines have any soul, as their masters believe, he was quite right. There were outcries and clamours,

sobs and bursts of chattering laughter, silences where the trained ear yearned for the clear note, and torturing

reduplications where there should have been one deep voice. Down the screwshaft ran murmurs and

warnings, while a heartdiseased flutter without told that the propeller needed rekeying.

"She moves, but but she's breakin' my heart. The sooner we're at PygangWatai, the better. She's mad, and

"What do I care how safe she is? She's mad. Hear that, now! To be sure, nothing's hittin' anything, and the

"If she goes," said the skipper, "I don't care a curse. And she's my boat, too."

She went, trailing a fathom of weed behind her. From a slow two knots an hour she crawled up to a

triumphant four. Anything beyond that made the struts quiver dangerously, and filled the engineroom with

steam. Morning showed her out of sight of land, and there was a visible ripple under her bows; but she

complained bitterly in her bowels, and, as though the noise had called it, there shot along across the purple

sea a swift, dark proa, hawklike and curious, which presently ranged alongside and wished to know if the

Haliotis were helpless. Ships, even the steamers of the white men, had been known to break down in those

waters, and the honest Malay and Javanese traders would sometimes aid them in their own peculiar way. But

this ship was not full of lady passengers and welldressed officers. Men, white, naked and savage, swarmed

down her sides some with redhot iron bars, and others with large hammers threw themselves upon those

innocent inquiring strangers, and, before any man could say what had happened, were in full possession of

the proa, while the lawful owners bobbed in the water overside. Half an hour later the proa's cargo of sago

and trepang, as well as a doubtfulminded compass, was in the Haliotis. The two huge triangular mat sails,

with their seventyfoot yards and booms, had followed the cargo, and were being fitted to the stripped masts

They rose, they swelled, they filled, and the empty steamer visibly laid over as the wind took them. They

gave her nearly three knots an hour, and what better could men ask? But if she had been forlorn before, this

new purchase made her horrible to see. Imagine a respectable charwoman in the tights of a balletdancer

rolling drunk along the streets, and you will come to some faint notion of the appearance of that

ninehundredton, welldecked, once schoonerrigged cargoboat as she staggered under her new help,

shouting and raving across the deep. With steam and sail that marvellous voyage continued; and the

brighteyed crew looked over the rail, desolate, unkempt, unshorn, shamelessly clothed beyond the

At the end of the third week she sighted the island of PygangWatai, whose harbour is the turningpoint of a

pearl seapatrol. Here the gunboats stay for a week ere they retrace their line. There is no village at

PygangWatai; only a stream of water, some palms, and a harbour safe to rest in till the first violence of the

They opened up the low coral beach, with its mound of whitewashed coal ready for supply, the deserted huts

Next day there was no Haliotis only a little proa rocking in the warm rain at the mouth of the harbour,

Months afterwards there were a few lines in an English newspaper to the effect that some gunboat of some

foreign Power had broken her back at the mouth of some faraway harbour by running at full speed into a

They've gone as far as to admit 'extreme local scarcity,' and they've started reliefworks in one or two

"That means it will be declared as soon as they can make sure of the men and the rollingstock. 'Shouldn't

"We've had fifteenanna crops in the north, and Bombay and Bengal report more than they know what to do

with. They'll be able to check it before it gets out of hand. It will only be local."

Martyn picked the "Pioneer" from the table, read through the telegrams once more, and put up his feet on the

chairrests. It was a hot, dark, breathless evening, heavy with the smell of the newly watered Mall. The

flowers in the Club gardens were dead and black on their stalks, the little lotuspond was a circle of caked

mud, and the tamarisktrees were white with the dust of weeks. Most of the men were at the bandstand in

the public gardens from the Club verandah you could hear the native Police band hammering stale waltzes

or on the pologround, or in the highwalled fivescourt, hotter than a Dutch oven. Half a dozen grooms,

squatted at the heads of their ponies, waited their masters' return. >From time to time a man would ride at a

footpace into the Club compound, and listlessly loaf over to the whitewashed barracks beside the main

building. These were supposed to be chambers. Men lived in them, meeting the same white faces night after

night at dinner, and drawing out their officework till the latest possible hour, that they might escape that

"What are you going to do?." said Martyn, with a yawn. "Let's have a swim before dinner."

"It's a hundred and five in the hall now. Sit still and don't be so abominably energetic."

A grunting camel swung up to the porch, his badged and belted rider fumbling a leather pouch.

"Kubberkargazkiyektraaa," the man whined, handing down the newspaper extra a slip printed on one

side only, and damp from the press. It was pinned up on the greenbaize board, between notices of ponies for

Martyn rose lazily, read it, and whistled. "It's declared!" he cried. "One, two, three eight districts go under

"Good business!" said Scott, with the first sign of interest he had shown. "When in doubt hire a Punjabi. I

worked under Jimmy when I first came out and he belonged to the Punjab. He has more bundobust than most

"Jimmy's a Jubilee Knight now," said Martyn. "He's a good chap, even though he is a thriceborn civilian and

went to the Benighted Presidency. What unholy names these Madras districts rejoice in all ungas or rungas

A dogcart drove up in the dusk, and a man entered, mopping his head. He was editor of the one daily paper

at the capital of a Province of twentyfive million natives and a few hundred white men: as his staff was

limited to himself and one assistant, his officehours ran variously from ten to twenty a day.

"Hi, Raines; you're supposed to know everything," said Martyn, stopping him. "How's this Madras 'scarcity'

"No one knows as yet. There's a message as long as your arm coming in on the telephone. I've left my cub to

fill it out. Madras has owned she can't manage it alone, and Jimmy seems to have a free hand in getting all the

"The Peshawur chap. Yes: and the Pi wires that Ellis and Clay have been moved from the Northwest already,

and they've taken half a dozen Bombay men, too. It's pukka famine, by the looks of it."

"They're nearer the scene of action than we are; but if it comes to indenting on the Punjab this early, there's

"Here today and gone tomorrow. 'Didn't come to stay for ever," said Scott, dropping one of Marryat's

A rough grey horse was backing and shifting at the edge of the verandah, where the light of a kerosene lamp

"Right, O!" said Martyn. "I'm ready. Better come and dine with us, if you've nothing to do, Scott. William, is

"I'll go home and see," was the rider's answer. "You can drive him over at eight, remember."

Scott moved leisurely to his room, and changed into the eveningdress of the season and the country: spotless

white linen from head to foot, with a broad silk cummerbund. Dinner at the Martyns' was a decided

improvement on the goatmutton, twineytough fowl, and tinned entrees of the Club. But it was a great pity

that Martyn could not afford to send his sister to the hills for the hot weather. As an Acting District

Superintendent of Police, Martyn drew the magnificent pay of six hundred depreciated silver rupees a month,

and his little fourroomed bungalow said just as much. There were the usual blueandwhitestriped

jailmade rugs on the uneven floor; the usual glassstudded Amritsar phulkaris draped on nails driven into

the flaking whitewash of the walls; the usual halfdozen chairs that did not match, picked up at sales of dead

men's effects; and the usual streaks of black grease where the leather punkathong ran through the wall. It

was as though everything had been unpacked the night before to be repacked next morning. Not a door in the

house was true on its hinges. The little windows, fifteen feet up, were darkened with waspnests, and lizards

hunted flies between the beams of the woodceiled roof. But all this was part of Scott's life. Thus did people

live who had such an income; and in a land where each man's pay, age, and position are printed in a book,

that all may read, it is hardly worth while to play at pretence in word or deed. Scott counted eight years'

service in the Irrigation Department, and drew eight hundred rupees a month, on the understanding that if he

served the State faithfully for another twentytwo years he could retire on a pension of some four hundred

rupees a month. His workinglife, which had been spent chiefly under canvas or in temporary shelters where

a man could sleep, eat, and write letters, was bound up with the opening and guarding of irrigation canals, the

handling of two or three thousand workmen of all castes and creeds, and the payment of vast sums of coined

He had finished that spring, not without credit, the last section of the great Mosuhl Canal, and much against

his will, for he hated officework had been sent in to serve during the hot weather on the accounts and

supply side of the Department, with sole charge of the sweltering suboffice at the capital of the Province.

Martyn knew this; William, his sister, knew it; and everybody knew it. Scott knew, too, as well as the rest of

the world, that Miss Martyn had come out to India four years ago to keep house for her brother, who, as every

one knew, had borrowed the money to pay for her passage, and that she ought, as all the world said, to have

married at once. In stead of this, she had refused some half a dozen subalterns, a Civilian twenty years her

senior, one Major, and a man in the Indian Medical Department. This, too, was common property. She had

"stayed down three hot weathers," as the saying is, because her brother was in debt and could not afford the

expense of her keep at even a cheap hillstation. Therefore her face was white as bone, and in the centre of

her forehead was a big silvery scar about the size of a shilling the mark of a Delhi sore, which is the same

as a "Bagdad date." This comes from drinking bad water, and slowly eats into the flesh till it is ripe enough to

None the less William had enjoyed herself hugely in her four years. Twice she had been nearly drowned

while fording a river; once she had been run away with on a camel; had witnessed a midnight attack of

thieves on her brother's camp; had seen justice administered, with long sticks, in the open under trees; could

speak Urdu and even rough Punjabi with a fluency that was envied by her seniors; had entirely fallen out of

the habit of writing to her aunts in England, or cutting the pages of the English magazines; had been through

a very bad cholera year, seeing sights unfit to be told; and had wound up her experiences by six weeks of

typhoid fever, during which her head had been shaved and hoped to keep her twentythird birthday that

September. It is conceivable that the aunts would not have approved of a girl who never set foot on the

ground if a horse were within hail; who rode to dances with a shawl thrown over her skirt; who wore her hair

cropped and curling all over her head; who answered indifferently to the name of William or Bill; whose

speech was heavy with the flowers of the vernacular; who could act in amateur theatricals, play on the banjo,

rule eight servants and two horses, their accounts and their diseases, and look men slowly and deliberately

"I like men who do things," she had confided to a man in the Educational Department, who was teaching the

sons of clothmerchants and dyers the beauty of Wordsworth's "Excursion" in annotated crambooks; and

when he grew poetical, William explained that she "didn't understand poetry very much; it made her head

ache," and another broken heart took refuge at the Club. But it was all William's fault. She delighted in

hearing men talk of their own work, and that is the most fatal way of bringing a man to your feet.

Scott had known her for some three years, meeting her, as a rule, under canvass, when his camp and her

brother's joined for a day on the edge of the Indian Desert. He had danced with her several times at the big

Christmas gatherings, when as many as five hundred white people came in to the station; and had always a

She looked more like a boy than ever when, the meal ended, she sat, rolling cigarettes, her low forehead

puckered beneath the dark curls as she twiddled the papers and stuck out her rounded chin when the tobacco

stayed in place, or, with a gesture as true as a schoolboy's throwing a stone, tossed the finished article across

the room to Martyn, who caught it with one hand, and continued his talk with Scott. It was all "shop,"

canals and the policing of canals; the sins of villagers who stole more water than they had paid for, and the

grosser sin of native constables who connived at the thefts; of the transplanting bodily of villages to newly

irrigated ground, and of the coming fight with the desert in the south when the Provincial funds should

warrant the opening of the longsurveyed Luni Protective Canal System. And Scott spoke openly of his great

desire to be put on one particular section of the work where he knew the land and the people; and Martyn

sighed for a billet in the Himalayan foothills, and said his mind of his superiors, and William rolled

cigarettes and said nothing, but smiled gravely on her brother because he was happy.

At ten Scott's horse came to the door, and the evening was ended. The lights of the two low bungalows in

which the daily paper was printed showed bright across the road. It was too early to try to find sleep, and

Scott drifted over to the editor. Raines, stripped to the waist like a sailor at a gun, lay half asleep in a long

chair, waiting for night telegrams. He had a theory that if a man did not stay by his work all day and most of

"The Madras famine, of course. Martyn's warned, too. They're taking men where they can find 'em. I sent a

note to you at the Club just now, asking if you could do us a letter once a week from the south between two

and three columns, say. Nothing sensational, of course, but just plain facts about who is doing what, and so

"'Sorry, but it's out of my line," Scott answered, staring absently at the map of India on the wall. "It's rough

on Martyn very. 'Wonder what he'll do with his sister? 'Wonder what the deuce they'll do with me? I've no

"Oh, yes. Here's the wire. They'll put you on to reliefworks," Raines said, "with a horde of Madrassis dying

like flies; one native apothecary and half a pint of choleramixture among the ten thousand of you. It comes

of your being idle for the moment. Every man who isn't doing two men's work seems to have been called

upon. Hawkins evidently believes in Punjabis. It's going to be quite as bad as anything they have had in the

"It's all in the day's work, worse luck. I suppose I shall get my orders officially some time tomorrow. I'm

awfully glad I happened to drop in. Better go and pack my kit now. Who relieves me here do you know?"

Scott chuckled. "He thought he was going to be cool all summer. He'll be very sick about this. Well, no good

Two hours later, Scott, with a clear conscience, laid himself down to rest on a string cot in a bare room. Two

worn bullock trunks, a leather waterbottle, a tin icebox, and his pet saddle sewed up in sacking were piled

at the door, and the Club secretary's receipt for last month's bill was under his pillow. His orders came next

morning, and with them an unofficial telegram from Sir James Hawkins; who was not in the habit of

forgetting good men when he had once met them, bidding him report himself with all speed at some

unpronounceable place fifteen hundred miles to the south, for the famine was sore in the land, and white men

A pink and fattish youth arrived in the redhot noonday, whimpering a little at fate and famines, which never

allowed any one three months' peace. He was Scott's successor another cog in the machinery, moved

forward behind his fellow whose services, as the official announcement ran, "were placed at the disposal of

the Madras Government for famine duty until further orders." Scott handed over the funds in his charge,

showed him the coolest corner in the office, warned him against excess of zeal, and, as twilight fell, departed

from the Club in a hired carriage, with his faithful bodyservant, Faiz Ullah, and a mound of disordered

baggage atop, to catch the southern mail at the loopholed and bastioned railwaystation. The heat from the

thick brick walls struck him across the face as if it had been a hot towel; and he reflected that there were at

least five nights and four days of this travel before him. Faiz Ullah, used to the chances of service, plunged

into the crowd on the stone platform, while Scott, a black cheroot between his teeth, waited till his

compartment should be set away. A dozen native policemen, with their rifles and bundles, shouldered into the

press of Punjabi farmers, Sikh craftsmen, and greasylocked Afreedee pedlars, escorting with all pomp

Martyn's uniformcase, waterbottles, icebox, and beddingroll. They saw Faiz Ullah's lifted hand, and

"My Sahib and your Sahib," said Faiz Ullah to Martyn's man, "will travel together. Thou and I, O brother,

will thus secure the servants' places close by; and because of our masters' authority none will dare to disturb

When Faiz Ullah reported all things ready, Scott settled down at full length, coatless and bootless, on the

broad leathercovered bunk. The heat under the ironarched roof of the station might have been anything

"Don't swear," said Scott, lazily; "it's too late to change your carriage; and we'll divide the ice."

"I'm lent to the Madras Government, same as you. By Jove, it's a bender of a night! Are you taking any of

"A dozen. I suppose I shall have to superintend relief distributions. 'Didn't know you were under orders too."

"I didn't till after I left you last night. Raines had the news first. My orders came this morning. McEuan

relieved me at four, and I got off at once. 'Shouldn't wonder if it wouldn't be a good thing this famine if

"Jimmy ought to put you and me to work together," said Martyn; and then, after a pause: "My sister's here."

"Good business," said Scott, heartily. "Going to get off at Umballa, I suppose, and go up to Simla. Who'll she

Scott sat bolt upright under the oillamps as the train jolted past TarnTaran. "What! You don't mean you

"You might have come to me, to begin with," said Scott, stiffly; "we aren't altogether strangers."

"Well, you needn't be stuffy about it. I might, but you don't know my sister. I've been explaining and

exhorting and all the rest of it all day lost my temper since seven this morning, and haven't got it back yet

but she wouldn't hear of any compromise. A woman's entitled to travel with her husband if she wants to; and

William says she's on the same footing. You see, we've been together all our lives, more or less, since my

"All the sisters I've ever heard of would have stayed where they were well off."

She's as clever as a man, confound Martyn went on. "She broke up the bungalow over my head while I was

talking at her. 'Settled the whole thing in three hours servants, horses, and all. I didn't get my orders till

"Mrs. Jim I mean Lady Jim's in camp with him. At any rate, she says she will look after my sister. William

wired down to her on her own responsibility, asking if she could come, and knocked the ground from under

Scott laughed aloud. "If she can do that she can take care of herself, and Mrs. Jim won't let her run into any

mischief. There aren't many women, sisters or wives, who would walk into a famine with their eyes open. It

isn't as if she didn't know what these things mean. She was through the Jalo cholera last year."

The train stopped at Amritsar, and Scott went back to the ladies' compartment, immediately behind their

"Come in and have some tea," she said. "'Best thing in the world for heatapoplexy."

She had arranged her compartment with the knowledge of an old campaigner. A feltcovered waterbottle

hung in the draught of one of the shuttered windows; a teaset of Russian china, packed in a wadded basket,

stood on the seat; and a travelling spiritlamp was clamped against the woodwork above it.

William served them generously, in large cups, hot tea, which saves the veins of the neck from swelling

inopportunely on a hot night. It was characteristic of the girl that, her plan of action once settled, she asked

for no comments on it. Life among men who had a great deal of work to do, and very little time to do it in,

had taught her the wisdom of effacing, as well as of fending for, herself. She did not by word or deed suggest

that she would be useful, comforting, or beautiful in their travels, but continued about her business serenely:

put the cups back without clatter when tea was ended, and made cigarettes for her guests.

"This time last night," said Scott, "we didn't expect er this kind of thing, did we?"

"I've learned to expect anything," said William. "You know, in our service, we live at the end of the

telegraph; but, of course, this ought to be a good thing for us all, departmentally if we live."

"It knocks us out of the running in our own Province," Scott replied, with equal gravity. "I hoped to be put on

the Luni Protective Works this cold weather, but there's no saying how long the famine may keep us."

"Hardly beyond October, I should think," said Martyn. "It will be ended, one way or the other, then."

"And we've nearly a week of this," said William. "Sha'n't we be dusty when it's over?"

For a night and a day they knew their surroundings, and for a night and a day, skirting the edge of the great

Indian Desert on a narrowgauge railway, they remembered how in the days of their apprenticeship they had

come by that road from Bombay. Then the languages in which the names of the stations were written

changed, and they launched south into a foreign land, where the very smells were new. Many long and

heavily laden graintrains were in front of them, and they could feel the hand of Jimmy Hawkins from far

off. They waited in extemporised sidings while processions of empty trucks returned to the north, and were

coupled on to slow, crawling trains, and dropped at midnight, Heaven knew where; but it was furiously hot,

and they walked to and fro among sacks, and dogs howled. Then they came to an India more strange to them

than to the untravelled Englishman the flat, red India of palmtree, palmyrapalm, and rice the India of

the picturebooks, of "Little Harry and His Bearer" all dead and dry in the baking heat. They had left the

incessant passengertraffic of the north and west far and far behind them. Here the people crawled to the side

of the train, holding their little ones in their arms; and a loaded truck would be left behind, the men and

women clustering round it like ants by spilled honey. Once in the twilight they saw on a dusty plain a

regiment of little brown men, each bearing a body over his shoulder; and when the train stopped to leave yet

another truck, they perceived that the burdens were not corpses, but only foodless folk picked up beside dead

oxen by a corps of Irregular troops. Now they met more white men, here one and there two, whose tents stood

close to the line, and who came armed with written authorities and angry words to cut off a truck. They were

too busy to do more than nod at Scott and Martyn, and stare curiously at William, who could do nothing

except make tea, and watch how her men staved off the rush of wailing, walking skeletons, putting them

down three at a time in heaps, with their own hands uncoupling the marked trucks, or taking receipts from the

holloweyed, weary white men, who spoke another argot than theirs. They ran out of ice, out of sodawater,

and out of tea; for they were six days and seven nights on the road, and it seemed to them like seven times

At last, in a dry, hot dawn, in a land of death, lit by long red fires of railwaysleepers, where they were

burning the dead, they came to their destination, and were met by Jim Hawkins, the Head of the Famine,

Martyn, he decreed then and there, was to live on trains till further orders; was to go back with empty trucks,

filling them with starving people as he found them, and dropping them at a faminecamp on the edge of the

Eight Districts. He would pick up supplies and return, and his constables would guard the loaded graincars,

also picking up people, and would drop them at a camp a hundred miles south. Scott Hawkins was very

glad to see Scott again would that same hour take charge of a convoy of bullockcarts, and would go south,

feeding as he went, to yet another faminecamp, where he would leave his starving there would he no lack

of starving on the route and wait for orders by telegraph. Generally, Scott was in all small things to act as

William bit her under lip. There was no one in the wide world like her one brother, but Martyn's orders gave

She came out on the platform, masked with dust from head to foot, a horseshoe wrinkle on her forehead, put

here by much thinking during the past week, but as selfpossessed as ever. Mrs. Jim who should have been

Lady Jim but that no one remembered the title took possession of her with a little gasp.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're here," she almost sobbed. "You oughtn't to, of course, but there there isn't another

woman in the place, and we must help each other, you know; and we've all the wretched people and the little

"Isn't it ghastly? I've bought twenty; they're in our camp; but won't you have something to eat first? We've

more than ten people can do here; and I've got a horse for you. Oh, I'm so glad you've come, dear. You're a

"Steady, Lizzie," said Hawkins, over his shoulder. "We'll look after you, Miss Martyn. 'Sorry I can't ask you

to breakfast, Martyn. You'll have to eat as you go. Leave two of your men to help Scott. These poor devils

can't stand up to load carts. Saunders" (this to the enginedriver, who was half asleep in the cab), "back down

and get those empties away. You've 'line clear' to Anundrapillay; they'll give you orders north of that. Scott,

load up your carts from that B. P. P. truck, and be off as soon as you can. The Eurasian in the pink shirt is

your interpreter and guide. You'll find an apothecary of sorts tied to the yoke of the second wagon. He's been

trying to bolt; you'll have to look after him. Lizzie, drive Miss Martyn to camp, and tell them to send the red

Scott, with Faiz Ullah and two policemen, was already busied with the carts, backing them up to the truck

and unbolting the sideboards quietly, while the others pitched in the bags of millet and wheat. Hawkins

"That's a good man," he said. "If all goes well I shall work him hard." This was Jim Hawkins's notion of the

An hour later Scott was under way; the apothecary threatening him with the penalties of the law for that he, a

member of the Subordinate Medical Department, had been coerced and bound against his will and all laws

governing the liberty of the subject; the pinkshirted Eurasian begging leave to see his mother, who

happened to be dying some three miles away: "Only verree, verree short leave of absence, and will presently

return, sar "; the two constables, armed with staves, bringing up the rear; and Faiz Ullah, a Mohammedan's

contempt for all Hindoos and foreigners in every line of his face, explaining to the drivers that though Scott

Sahib was a man to be feared on all fours, he, Faiz Ullah, was Authority Itself.

The procession creaked past Hawkins's camp three stained tents under a clump of dead trees, behind them

the famineshed, where a crowd of hopeless ones tossed their arms around the cookingkettles.

"'Wish to Heaven William had kept out of it," said Scott to himself, after a glance. "We'll have cholera, sure

But William seemed to have taken kindly to the operations of the Famine Code, which, when famine is

declared, supersede the workings of the ordinary law. Scott saw her, the centre of a mob of weeping women,

"I want fifty rupees, please. I forgot to ask Jack before he went away. Can you lend it me? It's for

Scott took the money from his belt, and handed it over without a word. "For goodness sake, take care of

"Oh, I shall be all right. We ought to get the milk in two days. By the way, the orders are, I was to tell you,

that you're to take one of Sir Jim's horses. There's a grey Cabuli here that I thought would be just your style,

"That's awfully good of you. We can't either of us talk much about style, I am afraid."

Scott was in a weatherstained drill shootingkit, very white at the seams and a little frayed at the wrists.

William regarded him thoughtfully, from his pith helmet to his greased ankleboots. "You look very nice, I

think. Are you sure you've everything you'll need quinine, chlorodyne, and so on?"

"'Think so," said Scott, patting three or four of his shootingpockets as he mounted and rode alongside his

"Goodbye, and good luck," said William. "I'm awfully obliged for the money." She turned on a spurred heel

and disappeared into the tent, while the carts pushed on past the faminesheds, past the roaring lines of the

So let us melt and make no noise, No tearfloods nor sightempests move; 'Twere profanation of our joys To

It was punishing work, even though he travelled by night and camped by day; but within the limits of his

vision there was no man whom Scott could call master. He was as free as Jimmy Hawkins freer, in fact, for

the Government held the Head of the Famine tied neatly to a telegraphwire, and if Jimmy had ever regarded

telegrams seriously, the deathrate of that famine would have been much higher than it was.

At the end of a few days' crawling Scott learned something of the size of the India which he served, and it

astonished him. His carts, as you know, were loaded with wheat, millet, and barley, good foodgrains

needing only a little grinding. But the people to whom he brought the lifegiving stuffs were riceeaters.

They could hull rice in their mortars, but they knew nothing of the heavy stone querns of the North, and less

of the material that the white man convoyed so laboriously. They clamoured for rice unhusked paddy, such

as they were accustomed to and, when they found that there was none, broke away weeping from the sides

of the cart. What was the use of these strange hard grains that choked their throats? They would die. And then

and there very many of them kept their word. Others took their allowance, and bartered enough millet to feed

a man through a week for a few handfuls of rotten rice saved by some less unfortunate. A few put their share

into the ricemortars, pounded it, and made a paste with foul water; but they were very few. Scott understood

dimly that many people in the India of the South ate rice, as a rule, but he had spent his service in a grain

Province, had seldom seen rice in the blade or ear, and least of all would have believed that in time of deadly

need men could die at arm's length of plenty, sooner than touch food they did not know. In vain the

interpreters interpreted; in vain his two policemen showed in vigorous pantomime what should be done. The

starving crept away to their bark and weeds, grubs, leaves, and clay, and left the open sacks untouched. But

sometimes the women laid their phantoms of children at Scott's feet, looking back as they staggered away.

Faiz Ullah opined it was the will of God that these foreigners should die, and it remained only to give orders

to burn the dead. None the less there was no reason why the Sahib should lack his comforts, and Faiz Ullah, a

campaigner of experience, had picked up a few lean goats and had added them to the procession. That they

might give milk for the morning meal, he was feeding them on the good grain that these imbeciles rejected.

"Yes," said Faiz Ullah; "if the Sahib thought fit, a little milk might be given to some of the babies"; but, as

the Sahib well knew, babies were cheap, and, for his own part, Faiz Ullah held that there was no Government

order as to babies. Scott spoke forcefully to Faiz Ullah and the two policemen, and bade them capture goats

where they could find them. This they most joyfully did, for it was a recreation, and many ownerless goats

were driven in. Once fed, the poor brutes were willing enough to follow the carts, and a few days' good food

"When we cross the Bias River again we will talk of izzat," Scott replied. "Till that day thou and the

"Thus, then, it is done," grunted Faiz Ullah, "if the Sahib will have it so"; and he showed how a goat should

"Now we will feed them," said Scott; "twice a day we will feed them"; and he bowed his back to the milking,

When you have to keep connection unbroken between a restless mother of kids and a baby who is at the point

of death, you suffer in all your system. But the babies were fed. Each morning and evening Scott would

solemnly lift them out one by one from their nest of gunnybags under the carttilts. There were always

many who could do no more than breathe, and the milk was dropped into their toothless mouths drop by

drop, with due pauses when they choked. Each morning, too, the goats were fed; and since they would

straggle without a leader, and since the natives were hirelings, Scott was forced to give up riding, and pace

slowly at the head of his flocks, accommodating his step to their weaknesses. All this was sufficiently absurd,

and he felt the absurdity keenly; but at least he was saving life, and when the women saw that their children

did not die, they made shift to eat a little of the strange foods, and crawled after the carts, blessing the master

"Give the women something to live for," said Scott to himself, as he sneezed in the dust of a hundred little

feet, "and they'll hang on somehow. This beats William's condensedmilk trick all to pieces. I shall never live

He reached his destination very slowly, found that a riceship had come in from Burmah, and that stores of

paddy were available; found also an overworked Englishman in charge of the shed, and, loading the carts, set

back to cover the ground he had already passed. He left some of the children and half his goats at the

famineshed. For this he was not thanked by the Englishman, who had already more stray babies than he

knew what to do with. Scott's back was suppled to stooping now, and he went on with his wayside

ministrations in addition to distributing the paddy. More babies and more goats were added unto him; but

now some of the babies wore rags, and beads round their wrists or necks. "That" said the interpreter, as

though Scott did not know, "signifies that their mothers hope in eventual contingency to resume them

The sooner, the better," said Scott; but at the same time he marked, with the pride of ownership, how this or

that little Ramasawmy was putting on flesh like a bantam. As the paddycarts were emptied he headed for

Hawkins's camp by the railway, timing his arrival to fit in with the dinnerhour, for it was long since he had

eaten at a cloth. He had no desire to make any dramatic entry, but an accident of the sunset ordered it that

when he had taken off his helmet to get the evening breeze, the low light should fall across his forehead, and

he could not see what was before him; while one waiting at the tent door beheld with new eyes a young man,

beautiful as Paris, a god in a halo of golden dust, walking slowly at the head of his flocks, while at his knee

ran small naked Cupids. But she laughed William, in a slatecoloured blouse, laughed consumedly till

Scott, putting the best face he could upon the matter, halted his armies and bade her admire the kindergarten.

It was an unseemly sight, but the proprieties had been left ages ago, with the teaparty at Amritsar Station,

"They are coming on nicely," said William. "We've only fiveandtwenty here now. The women are

"Yes Mrs. Jim and I. We didn't think of goats, though. We've been trying condensedmilk and water."

Scott said nothing. There had been many little burials along his route one cannot burn a dead baby many

mothers who had wept when they did not find again the children they had trusted to the care of the

Then Hawkins came out carrying a razor, at which Scott looked hungrily, for he had a beard that he did not

love. And when they sat down to dinner in the tent he told his tale in few words, as it might have been an

official report. Mrs. Jim snuffled from time to time, and Jim bowed his head judicially; but William's grey

eyes were on the cleanshaven face, and it was to her that Scott seemed to appeal.

"Good for the Pauper Province!" said William, her chin on her hand, as she leaned forward among the

wine~glasses. Her cheeks had fallen in, and the scar on her forehead was more prominent than ever, but the

wellturned neck rose roundly as a column from the ruffle of the blouse which was the accepted

"It was awfully absurd at times," said Scott. "You see, I didn't know much about milking or babies. They'll

"Let 'em," said William, haughtily. "We've all done cooliework since we came. I know Jack has." This was

"Your brother's a highly efficient officer, William," said he, "and I've done him the honour of treating him as

"Then you must say that William's worth her weight in gold," said Mrs. Jim. "I don't know what we should

have done without her. She has been everything to us." She dropped her hand upon William's, which was

rough with much handling of reins, and William patted it softly. Jim beamed on the company. Things were

going well with his world. Three of his more grossly incompetent men had died, and their places had been

filled by their betters. Every day brought the Rains nearer. They had put out the famine in five of the Eight

Districts, and, after all, the deathrate had not been too heavy things considered. He looked Scott over

carefully, as an ogre looks over a man, and rejoiced in his thews and ironhard condition.

"He's just the least bit in the world tucked up," said Jim to himself, "but he can do two men's work yet." Then

he was aware that Mrs. Jim was telegraphing to him, and according to the domestic code the message ran: "A

He looked and listened. All that William was saying was: "What can you expect of a country where they call

a bhistee [a watercarrier] a tunnicutch?" and all that Scott answered was: "I shall be glad to get back to the

"It's a far cry from here to the Lawrence Hall," said Jim. "Better turn in early, Scott. It's paddycarts

"'Wish I could, Lizzie, but I'm afraid I can't. As long as he can stand up we must use him."

"Well, I've had one Europe evening, at least. By Jove, I'd nearly forgotten! What do I do about those babies

"Leave them here," said William " we are in charge of that and as many goats as you can spare. I must

"If you care to get up early enough tomorrow I'll show you. I have to milk, you see. Half of 'em have beads

and things round their necks. You must be careful not to take 'em off; in case the mothers turn up."

"I'll take care of her," said Mrs. Jim, telegraphing hundredword messages as she carried William off; while

Jim gave Scott his orders for the coming campaign. It was very late nearly nine o'clock.

"Jim, you're a brute," said his wife, that night; and the Head of the Famine chuckled.

"Not a bit of it, dear. I remember doing the first Jandiala Settlement for the sake of a girl in a crinoline, and

she was slender, Lizzie. I've never done as good a piece of work since. He'll work like a demon."

"I don't believe either of the darlings know what's the matter with them. Isn't it beautiful? Isn't it lovely?"

"Getting up at three to learn to milk, bless her heart! Oh, ye Gods, why must we grow old and fat?"

"Under you? The day after she came she was in charge and you were her subordinate. You've stayed there

"She doesn't, and that's why I love her. She's as direct as a man as her brother."

"Her brother's weaker than she is. He's always to me for orders; but he's honest, and a glutton for work. I

The talk ended. Far away in the Derajat was a child's grave more than twenty years old, and neither Jim nor

Before the stars paled, Scott, who slept in an empty cart, waked and went about his work in silence; it seemed

at that hour unkind to rouse Faiz Ullah and the interpreter. His head being close to the ground, he did not hear

William till she stood over him in the dingy old ridinghabit, her eyes still heavy with sleep, a cup of tea and

a piece of toast in her hands. There was a baby on the ground, squirming on a piece of blanket, and a

"Hai, you little rip," said Scott, "how the deuce do you expect to get your rations if you aren't quiet?"

A cool white hand steadied the brat, who forthwith choked as the milk gurgled into his mouth.

"'Mornin'," said the milker. "You've no notion how these little fellows can wriggle."

"Oh, yes, I have." She whispered, because the world was asleep. "Only I feed them with a spoon or a rag.

Yours are fatter than mine. And you've been doing this day after day?" The voice was almost lost.

"Yes; it was absurd. Now you try," he said, giving place to the girl. "Look out! A goat's not a cow."

The goat protested against the amateur, and there was a scuffle, in which Scott snatched up the baby. Then it

was all to do over again, and William laughed softly and merrily. She managed, however, to feed two babies,

They were very busy and interested, when lo! it was broad daylight, and before they knew, the camp was

awake, and they kneeled among the goats, surprised by the day, both flushed to the temples. Yet all the round

world rolling up out of the darkness might have heard and seen all that had passed between them.

"Oh," said William, unsteadily, snatching up the tea and toast, "I had this made for you. It's stonecold now. I

thought you mightn't have anything ready so early. 'Better not drink it. It's it's stonecold."

"That's awfully kind of you. It's just right. It's awfully good of you, really. I'll leave my kids and goats with

you and Mrs. Jim, and, of course, any one in camp can show you about the milking."

"Of course," said William; and she grew pinker and pinker and statelier and more stately, as she strode back

There were shrill lamentations through the camp when the elder children saw their nurse move off without

them. Faiz Ullah unbent so far as to jest with the policemen, and Scott turned purple with shame because

A child escaped from the care of Mrs. Jim, and, running like a rabbit, clung to Scott's boot, William pursuing

"I will not go I will not go!" shrieked the child, twining his feet round Scott's ankle. They will kill me here.

"I say," said Scott, in broken Tamil, "I say, she will do you no harm. Go with her and be well fed."

"Come!" said William, panting, with a wrathful glance at Scott, who stood helpless and, as it were,

"Go back," said Scott quickly to William. I'll send the little chap over in a minute."

The tone of authority had its effect, but in a way Scott did not exactly intend. The boy loosened his grasp, and

said with gravity: "I did not know the woman was thine. I will go." Then he cried to his companions, a mob

of three, four, and fiveyearolds waiting on the success of his venture ere they stampeded: "Go back and

Jim collapsed where he sat; Faiz Ullah and the two policemen grinned; and Scott's orders to the cartmen flew

"That is the custom of the Sahibs when truth is told in their presence," said Faiz Ullah. "The time comes that I

must seek new service. Young wives, especially such as speak our language and have knowledge of the ways

of the Police, make great trouble for honest butlers in the matter of weekly accounts."

What William thought of it all she did not say, but when her brother, ten days later, came to camp for orders,

and heard of Scott's performances, he said, laughing: "Well, that settles it. He'll be Bakri Scott to the end of

his days." (Bakri in the Northern vernacular, means a goat.) "What a lark! I'd have given a month's pay to

have seen him nursing famine babies. I fed some with conjee [ricewater], but that was all right."

"It's perfectly disgusting," said his sister, with blazing eyes. "A man does something like like that and all

you other men think of is to give him an absurd nickname, and then you laugh and think it's funny."

"Well, you can't talk, William. You christened little Miss Demby the Buttonquail, last cold weather; you

"That's different," William replied. "She was only a girl, and she hadn't done anything except walk like a

"Scott won't care," said Martyn. "You can't get a rise out of old Scotty. I've been trying for eight years, and

"He looks very well," said William, and went away with a flushed cheek. "Bakri Scott, indeed!" Then she

laughed to herself, for she knew her country. "But it will he Bakri all the same"; and she repeated it under her

When he returned to his duties on the railway, Martyn spread the name far and wide among his associates, so

that Scott met it as he led his paddycarts to war. The natives believed it to be some English title of honour,

and the cartdrivers used it in all simplicity till Faiz Ullah, who did not approve of foreign japes, broke their

heads. There was very little time for milking now, except at the big camps, where Jim had extended Scott's

idea and was feeding large flocks on the useless northern grains. Sufficient paddy had come now into the

Eight Districts to hold the people safe, if it were only distributed quickly, and for that purpose no one was

better than the big Canal officer, who never lost his temper, never gave an unnecessary order, and never

questioned an order given. Scott pressed on, saving his cattle, washing their galled necks daily, so that no

time should be lost on the road; reported himself with his rice at the minor faminesheds, unloaded, and went

back light by forced nightmarch to the next distributing centre, to find Hawkins's unvarying telegram: "Do it

again." And he did it again and again, and yet again, while Jim Hawkins, fifty miles away, marked off on a

big map the tracks of his wheels gridironing the stricken lands. Others did well Hawkins reported at the end

they all did well but Scott was the most excellent, for he kept good coined rupees by him, settled for his

own cartrepairs on the spot, and ran to meet all sorts of unconsidered extras, trusting to be recouped later on.

Theoretically, the Government should have paid for every shoe and linchpin, for every hand employed in the

loading; but Government vouchers cash themselves slowly, and intelligent and efficient clerks write at great

length, contesting unauthorised expenditures of eight annas. The man who wants to make his work a success

"I told you he'd work," said Jimmy to his wife, at the end of six weeks. "He's been in sole charge of a couple

of thousand men up north, on the Mosuhl Canal, for a year; but he gives less trouble than young Martyn with

his ten constables; and I'm morally certain only Government doesn't recognise moral obligations he's

spent about half his pay to grease his wheels. Look at this, Lizzie, for one week's work! Forty miles in two

days with twelve carts; two days' halt building a famineshed for young Rogers. (Rogers ought to have built

it himself, the idiot!) Then forty miles back again, loading six carts on the way, and distributing all Sunday.

Then in the evening he pitches in a twentypage DemiOfficial to me, saying the people where he is might

be 'advantageously employed on reliefwork,' and suggesting that he put 'em to work on some brokendown

old reservoir he's discovered, so as to have a good watersupply when the Rains break. 'Thinks he can cauk

the dam in a fortnight. Look at his marginal sketches aren't they clear and good? I knew he was pukka, but I

"I must show these to William," said Mrs. Jim. "The child's wearing herself out among the babies."

"Not more than you are, dear. Well, another two months ought to see us out of the wood. I'm sorry it's not in

William sat late in her tent that night, reading through page after page of the square handwriting, patting the

sketches of proposed repairs to the reservoir, and wrinkling her eyebrows over the columns of figures of

estimated watersupply. "And he finds time to do all this," she cried to herself, "and well, I also was

She dreamed for the twentieth time of the god in the golden dust, and woke refreshed to feed loathsome black

children, scores of them, wastrels picked up by the wayside, their bones almost breaking their skin, terrible

Scott was not allowed to leave his cartwork, but his letter was duly forwarded to the Government, and he

had the consolation, not rare in India, of knowing that another man was reaping where he had sown. That also

"He's much too good to waste on canals," said Jimmy. "Any one can oversee coolies. You needn't be angry,

William; he can but I need my pearl among bullockdrivers, and I've transferred him to the Khanda district,

"He's not a coolie," said William, furiously. "He ought to be doing his regulation work."

"He's the best man in his service, and that's saying a good deal; but if you must use razors to cut grindstones,

"Isn't it almost time we saw him again?" said Mrs. Jim. "I'm sure the poor boy hasn't had a respectable meal

"No; it was Midshipman Easy," William laughed. "I sometimes wonder how it will feel to dance or listen to a

band again, or sit under a roof. I can't believe I ever wore a ballfrock in my life."

"One minute," said Mrs. Jim, who was thinking. "If he goes to Khanda, he passes within five miles of us. Of

"It depends on his own judgment. There's absolutely no reason why he shouldn't, if he thinks fit," said Jim.

"He won't see fit," William replied, without sorrow or emotion. "It wouldn't be him if he did."

"One certainly gets to know people rather well in times like these," said Jim, drily; but William's face was

The Rains fell at last, late, but heavily; and the dry, gashed earth was red mud, and servants killed snakes in

the camp, where every one was weatherbound for a fortnight all except Hawkins, who took horse and

plashed about in the wet, rejoicing. Now the Government decreed that seedgrain should be distributed to the

people, as well as advances of money for the purchase of new oxen; and the white men were doubly worked

for this new duty, while William skipped from brick to brick laid down on the trampled mud, and dosed her

charges with warming medicines that made them rub their little round stomachs; and the milch goats throve

on the rank grass. There was never a word from Scott in the Khanda district, away to the southeast, except the

regular telegraphic report to Hawkins. The rude country roads had disappeared; his drivers were half

mutinous; one of Martyn's loaned policemen had died of cholera; and Scott was taking thirty grains of

quinine a day to fight the fever that comes with the rain: but those were things Scott did not consider

necessary to report. He was, as usual, working from a base of supplies on a railway line, to cover a circle of

fifteen miles radius, and since full loads were impossible, he took quarterloads, and toiled four times as hard

by consequence; for he did not choose to risk an epidemic which might have grown uncontrollable by

assembling villagers in thousands at the reliefsheds. It was cheaper to take Government bullocks, work them

That was the time when eight years of clean living and hard condition told, though a man's head were ringing

like a bell from the cinchona, and the earth swayed under his feet when he stood and under his bed when he

slept. If Hawkins had seen fit to make him a bullockdriver, that, he thought, was entirely Hawkins's own

affair. There were men in the North who would know what he had done; men of thirty years' service in his

own department who would say that it was "not half bad"; and above, immeasurably above, all men of all

grades, there was William in the thick of the fight, who would approve because she understood. He had so

trained his mind that it would hold fast to the mechanical routine of the day, though his own voice sounded

strange in his own ears, and his hands, when he wrote, grew large as pillows or small as peas at the end of his

wrists. That steadfastness bore his body to the telegraphoffice at the railwaystation, and dictated a telegram

to Hawkins saying that the Khanda district was, in his judgment, now safe, and he "waited further orders."

The Madrassee telegraphclerk did not approve of a large, gaunt man falling over him in a dead faint, not so

much because of the weight as because of the names and blows that Faiz Ullah dealt him when he found the

body rolled under a bench. Then Faiz Ullah took blankets, quilts, and coverlets where he found them, and lay

down under them at his master's side, and bound his arms with a tentrope, and filled him with a horrible

stew of herbs, and set the policeman to fight him when he wished to escape from the intolerable heat of his

coverings, and shut the door of the telegraphoffice to keep out the curious for two nights and one day; and

when a light engine came down the line, and Hawkins kicked in the door, Scott hailed him weakly but in a

"For two nights, Heavenborn, he was pagal" said Faiz Ullah. "Look at my nose, and consider the eye of the

policeman. He beat us with his bound hands; but we sat upon him, Heavenborn, and though his words were

tez, we sweated him. Heavenborn, never has been such a sweat! He is weaker now than a child; but the

fever has gone out of him, by the grace of God. There remains only my nose and the eye of the constabeel.

Sahib, shall I ask for my dismissal because my Sahib has beaten me?" And Faiz Ullah laid his long thin hand

carefully on Scott's chest to be sure that the fever was all gone, ere he went out to open tinned soups and

"The district's all right," Scott whispered. "It doesn't make any difference. You got my wire?" I shall be fit in

"It's all over except the shouting. We sha'n't need you Punjabis any more. On my honour, we sha'n't. Martyn

goes back in a few weeks; Arbuthnot's returned already; Ellis and Clay are putting the last touches to a new

feederline the Government's built as reliefwork. Morten's dead he was a Bengal man, though; you

wouldn't know him. 'Pon my word, you and Will Miss Martyn seem to have come through it as well as

"Going strong when I left her. The Roman Catholic Missions are adopting the unclaimed babies to turn them

into little priests; the Basil Mission is taking some, and the mothers are taking the rest. You should hear the

little beggars howl when they're sent away from William. She's pulled down a bit, but so are we all. Now,

"Well, you are rather a sight, but from what I gathered there it seemed to me they'd be glad to see you under

any conditions. I'll look over your work here, if you like, for a couple of days, and you can pull yourself

Scott could walk dizzily by the time Hawkins's inspection was ended, and he flushed all over when Jim said

of his work that it was "not half bad," and volunteered, further, that he had considered Scott his righthand

So they came back by rail to the old camp; but there were no crowds near it; the long fires in the trenches

"You see!" said Jim. "There isn't much more to do. 'Better ride up and see the wife. They've pitched a tent for

Riding at a footpace, Faiz Ullah by his stirrup, Scott came to William in the browncalico ridinghabit,

sitting at the diningtent door, her hands in her lap, white as ashes, thin and worn, with no lustre in her hair.

There did not seem to be any Mrs. Jim on the horizon, and all that William could say was: "My word, how

"Before Christmas, Mrs. Jim says. Sha'n't you be glad to go back? I can smell the woodsmoke already";

William sniffed. "We shall be in time for all the Christmas doings. I don't suppose even the Punjab

"It seems hundreds of years ago the Punjab and all that doesn't it? Are you glad you came?"

"Now it's all over, yes. It has been ghastly here, though. You know we had to sit still and do nothing, and Sir

"That reminds me, I owe you fifty rupees for the condensedmilk. I thought perhaps you'd be coming here

when you were transferred to the Khanda district, and I could pay you then; but you didn't."

"I passed within five miles of the camp, but it was in the middle of a march, you see, and the carts were

breaking down every few minutes, and I couldn't get 'em over the ground till ten o'clock that night. I wanted

"I believe I did," said William, facing him with level eyes. She was no longer white."

"If you had come in but I knew you wouldn't but if you had, I should have cared a great deal. You know I

"Thank God I didn't! Oh, but I wanted to! I couldn't trust myself to ride in front of the carts, because I kept

Scott bent forward and kissed the hand that held the greasy notes. Its fellow patted him awkwardly but very

"No, on my honour, I didn't. I hadn't the the cheek to expect anything of the kind, except ... I say, were you

William nodded, and smiled after the manner of an angel surprised in a good deed.

"Palmgrove on the Southern cartroad. I saw your helmet when you came up from the mullah by the temple

This time Scott did not kiss her hand, for they were in the dusk of the diningtent, and, because William's

knees were trembling under her, she had to sit down in the nearest chair, where she wept long and happily,

her head on her arms; and when Scott imagined that it would be well to comfort her, she needing nothing of

the kind, she ran to her own tent; and Scott went out into the world, and smiled upon it largely and idiotically.

But when Faiz Ullah brought him a drink, he found it necessary to support one hand with the other, or the

good whisky and soda would have been spilled abroad. There are fevers and fevers.

But it was worse much worse the strained, eyeshirking talk at dinner till the servants had withdrawn,

and worst of all when Mrs. Jim, who had been on the edge of weeping from the soup down, kissed Scott and

William, and they drank one whole bottle of champagne, hot, because there was no ice, and Scott and

William sat outside the tent in the starlight till Mrs. Jim drove them in for fear of more fever.

Apropos of these things and some others William said: "Being engaged is abominable, because, you see, one

"Things to do!" said Jim, when that was reported to him. "They're neither of them any good any more. I can't

"Oh, but they're so beautiful to watch, Jimmy. It will break my heart when they go. Can't you do anything for

"I've given the Government the impression at least, I hope I have that he personally conducted the entire

famine. But all he wants is to get on to the Luni Canal Works, and William's just as bad. Have you ever heard

'em talking of barrage and aprons and wastewater? It's their style of spooning, I suppose."

And so Love ran about the camp unrebuked in broad daylight, while men picked up the pieces and put them

* * * * * * * * * * * * * Morning brought the penetrating chill of the Northern December, the layers of

woodsmoke, the dusty greyblue of the tamarisks, the domes of ruined tombs, and all the smell of the white

Northern plains, as the mailtrain ran on to the milelong Sutlej Bridge. William, wrapped in a poshteen a

silkembroidered sheepskin jacket trimmed with rough astrakhan looked out with moist eyes and nostrils

that dilated joyously. The South of pagodas and palmtrees, the overpopulated Hindu South, was done with.

Here was the land she knew and loved, and before her lay the good life she understood, among folk of her

They were picking them up at almost every station now men and women coming in for the Christmas

Week, with racquets, with bundles of polosticks, with dear and bruised cricketbats, with foxterriers and

saddles. The greater part of them wore jackets like William's, for the Northern cold is as little to be trifled

with as the Northern heat. And William was among them and of them, her hands deep in her pockets, her

collar turned up over her ears, stamping her feet on the platforms as she walked up and down to get warm,

visiting from carriage to carriage and everywhere being congratulated. Scott was with the bachelors at the far

end of the train, where they chaffed him mercilessly about feeding babies and milking goats; but from time to

time he would stroll up to William's window, and murmur: "Good enough, isn't it?" and William would

answer with sighs of pure delight: "Good enough, indeed." The large open names of the home towns were

good to listen to. Umballa, Ludianah, Phillour, Jullundur, they rang like the coming marriagebells in her

ears, and William felt deeply and truly sorry for all strangers and outsiders visitors, tourists, and those

It was a glorious return, and when the bachelors gave the Christmas Ball, William was, unofficially, you

might say, the chief and honoured guest among the Stewards, who could make things very pleasant for their

friends. She and Scott danced nearly all the dances together, and sat out the rest in the big dark gallery

overlooking the superb teak floor, where the uniforms blazed, and the spurs clinked, and the new frocks and

four hundred dancers went round and round till the draped flags on the pillars flapped and bellied to the whirl

About midnight half a dozen men who did not care for dancing came over from the Club to play "Waits," and

that was a surprise the Stewards had arranged before any one knew what had happened, the band stopped,

and hidden voices broke into "Good King Wenceslaus," and William in the gallery hummed and beat time

"Mark my footsteps well, my page, Tread thou in them boldly. Thou shalt feel the winter's rage Freeze thy

"Oh, I hope they are going to give us another! Isn't it pretty, coming out of the dark in that way? Look look

"All seated on the ground, The Angel of the Lord came down, And glory shone around. 'Fear not,' said he (for

mighty dread Had seized their troubled mind); 'Glad tidings of great joy I bring To you and all mankind.'"

A locomotive is, next to a marine engine, the most sensitive thing man ever made; and No. .007, besides

being sensitive, was new. The red paint was hardly dry on his spotless bumperbar, his headlight shone like a

fireman's helmet, and his cab might have been a hardwoodfinish parlour. They had run him into the

roundhouse after his trial he had said goodbye to his best friend in the shops, the overhead

travellingcrane the big world was just outside; and the other locos were taking stock of him. He looked at

the semicircle of bold, unwinking headlights, heard the low purr and mutter of the steam mounting in the

gauges scornful hisses of contempt as a slack valve lifted a little and would have given a month's oil for

leave to crawl through his own drivingwheels into the brick ashpit beneath him. .007 was an

eightwheeled "American" loco, slightly different from others of his type, and as he stood he was worth ten

thousand dollars on the Company's books. But if you had bought him at his own valuation, after half an

hour's waiting in the darkish, echoing roundhouse, you would have saved exactly nine thousand nine

A heavy Mogul freight, with a short cowcatcher and a firebox that came down within three inches of the

rail, began the impolite game, speaking to a Pittsburgh Consolidation, who was visiting.

"Where did this thing blow in from?" he asked, with a dreamy puff of light steam.

"it's all I can do to keep track of our makes," was the answer, "without lookin' after your backnumbers.

.007 quivered; his steam was getting up, but he held his tongue. Even a handcar knows what sort of

locomotive it was that Peter Cooper experimented upon in the faraway Thirties. It carried its coal and water

Then up and spoke a small, newish switchingengine, with a little step in front of his bumpertimber, and his

"Something's wrong with the road when a Pennsylvania gravelpusher tells us anything about our stock, I

think. That kid's all right. Eustis designed him, and Eustis designed me. Ain't that good enough?"

.007 could have carried the switchingloco round the yard in his tender, but he felt grateful for even this little

"We don't use handcars on the Pennsylvania," said the Consolidation. "That er peanutstand is old

"He hasn't bin spoken to yet. He's bin spoke at. Hain't ye any manners on the Pennsylvania?" said the

"You ought to be in the yard, Poney," said the Mogul, severely. "We're all longhaulers here."

"That's what you think," the little fellow replied. "You'll know more 'fore the night's out. I've bin down to

"I've trouble enough in my own division," said a lean, light suburban loco with very shiny brakeshoes. "My

commuters wouldn't rest till they got a parlourcar. They've hitched it back of all, and it hauls worsen a

snowplough. I'll snap her off someday sure, and then they'll blame every one except their foolselves. They'll

"They made you in New Jersey, didn't they?" said Poney. "Thought so. Commuters and truckwagons ain't

any sweet haulin', but I tell you they're a heap better 'n cuttin' out refrigeratorcars or oiltanks. Why, I've

"Haul! You?" said the Mogul, contemptuously. "It's all you can do to bunt a coldstorage car up the yard.

Now, I " he paused a little to let the words sink in "I handle the Flying Freight eleven cars worth just

anything you please to mention. On the stroke of eleven I pull out; and I'm timed for thirtyfive an hour.

Costlyperishablefragileimmediate that's me! Suburban traffic's only but one degree better than

"Well, I ain't given to blowing, as a rule," began the Pittsburgh Consolidation.

"Where I grunt, you'd lie down, Poney: but, as I was saying, I don't blow much. Notwithstandin', if you want

to see freight that is freight moved lively, you should see me warbling through the Alleghanies with

thirtyseven orecars behind me, and my brakemen fightin' tramps so's they can't attend to my tooter. I have

to do all the holdin' back then, and, though I say it, I've never had a load get away from me yet. No, sir.

Haulin's's one thing, but judgment and discretion's another. You want judgment in my business."

"Ah! But but are you not paralysed by a sense of your overwhelming responsibilities?" said a curious,

"CompoundexperimentN.G. She's bin switchin' in the B. A. yards for six months, when she wasn't in the

shops. She's economical (I call it mean) in her coal, but she takes it out in repairs. Ahem! I presume you

"I am never so well occupied as when I am alone." The Compound seemed to be talking from halfway up

"Sure," said the irreverent Poney, under his breath. "They don't hanker after her any in the yard."

"But, with my constitution and temperament my work lies in Boston I find your outrecuidance "

"Outer which?" said the Mogul freight. "Simple cylinders are good enough for me."

"Git 'em all shapes in this world, don't ye?" said Poney. "that's Mass'chusetts all over. They half start, an' then

they stick on a deadcentre, an' blame it all on other folk's ways o' treatin' them. Talkin' o' Boston, Comanche

told me, last night, he had a hotbox just beyond the Newtons, Friday. That was why, he says, the

"If I'd heard that in the shops, with my boiler out for repairs, I'd know 't was one o' Comanche's lies," the New

Jersey commuter snapped. "Hotbox! Him! What happened was they'd put an extra car on, and he just lay

down on the grade and squealed. They had to send 127 to help him through. Made it out a hotbox, did he?

Time before that he said he was ditched! Looked me square in the headlight and told me that as cool as as a

watertank in a cold wave. Hotbox! You ask 127 about Comanche's hotbox. Why, Comanche he was

sidetracked, and 127 (he was just about as mad as they make 'em on account o' being called out at ten

o'clock at night) took hold and snapped her into Boston in seventeen minutes. Hotbox! Hot fraud! that's

Then .007 put both drivers and his pilot into it, as the saying is, for he asked what sort of thing a hotbox

"Paint my bell skyblue!" said Poney, the switcher. "Make me a surfacerailroad loco with a hardwood

skirtin'board round my wheels. Break me up and cast me into fivecent sidewalkfakirs' mechanical toys!

Here's an eightwheel coupled 'American' don't know what a hotbox is! Never heard of an emergencystop

either, did ye? Don't know what ye carry jackscrews for? You're too innocent to be left alone with your own

There was a roar of escaping steam before any one could answer, and .007 nearly blistered his paint off with

"A hotbox," began the Compound, picking and choosing her words as though they were coal, "a hotbox is

"Hotbox!" said the Jersey Suburban. "It's the price you pay for going on the tear. It's years since I've had

"We never have hotboxes on the Pennsylvania," said the Consolidation. "They get 'em in New York same

"Ah, go home on a ferryboat," said the Mogul. "You think because you use worse grades than our road 'u'd

allow, you're a kind of Alleghany angel. Now, I'll tell you what you ... Here's my folk. Well, I can't stop. See

He rolled forward majestically to the turntable, and swung like a manofwar in a tideway, till he picked up

his track. "But as for you, you peagreen swiveling' coffeepot (this to .007'), you go out and learn

something before you associate with those who've made more mileage in a week than you'll roll up in a year.

"Split my tubes if that's actin' polite to a new member o' the Brotherhood," said Poney. "There wasn't any call

to trample on ye like that. But manners was left out when Moguls was made. Keep up your fire, kid, an' burn

Men were talking rather excitedly in the roundhouse. One man, in a dingy jersey, said that he hadn't any

locomotives to waste on the yard. Another man, with a piece of crumpled paper in his hand, said that the

yardmaster said that he was to say that if the other man said anything, he (the other man) was to shut his

head. Then the other man waved his arms, and wanted to know if he was expected to keep locomotives in his

hippocket. Then a man in a black Prince Albert, without a collar, came up dripping, for it was a hot August

night, and said that what he said went; and between the three of them the locomotives began to go, too first

Now, deep down in his firebox, .007 had cherished a hope that as soon as his trial was done, he would be

led forth with songs and shoutings, and attached to a greenandchocolate vestibuled flyer, under charge of a

bold and noble engineer, who would pat him on his back, and weep over him, and call him his Arab steed.

(The boys in the shops where he was built used to read wonderful stories of railroad life, and .007 expected

things to happen as he had heard.) But there did not seem to be many vestibuled fliers in the roaring,

"Now, what sort of a foolsort of an injector has Eustis loaded on to this rig this time?" And he put the lever

over with an angry snap, crying: "Am I supposed to switch with this thing, hey?"

The collarless man mopped his head, and replied that, in the present state of the yard and freight and a few

other things, the engineer would switch and keep on switching till the cows came home. .007 pushed out

gingerly, his heart in his headlight, so nervous that the clang of his own bell almost made him jump the track.

Lanterns waved, or danced up and down, before and behind him; and on every side, six tracks deep, sliding

backward and forward, with clashings of couplers and squeals of handbrakes, were cars more cars than

.007 had dreamed of. There were oilcars, and haycars, and stockcars full of lowing beasts, and orecars,

and potatocars with stovepipeends sticking out in the middle; coldstorage and refrigerator cars dripping

ice water on the tracks; ventilated fruit and milkcars; flatcars with truckwagons full of marketstuff;

flatcars loaded with reapers and binders, all red and green and gilt under the sizzling electric lights; flatcars

piled high with strongscented hides, pleasant hemlockplank, or bundles of shingles; flatcars creaking to

the weight of thirtyton castings, angleirons, and rivetboxes for some new bridge; and hundreds and

hundreds and hundreds of boxcars loaded, locked, and chalked. Men hot and angry crawled among and

between and under the thousand wheels; men took flying jumps through his cab, when he halted for a

moment; men sat on his pilot as he went forward, and on his tender as he returned; and regiments of men ran

along the tops of the boxcars beside him, screwing down brakes, waving their arms, and crying curious

He was pushed forward a foot at a time; whirled backward, his rear drivers clinking and clanking, a quarter of

a mile; jerked into a switch (yardswitches are very stubby and unaccommodating), bunted into a Red D, or

Merchant's Transport car, and, with no hint or knowledge of the weight behind him, started up anew. When

his load was fairly on the move, three or four cars would be cut off, and .007 would bound forward, only to

be held hiccupping on the brake. Then he would wait a few minutes, watching the whirled lanterns, deafened

with the clang of the bells, giddy with the vision of the sliding cars, his brakepump panting forty to the

minute, his front coupler lying sideways on his cowcatcher, like a tired dog's tongue in his mouth, and the

"'Tisn't so easy switching with a straightbacked tender," said his little friend of the roundhouse, bustling by

at a trot. "But you're comin' on pretty fair. 'Ever seen a flyin' switch? No? Then watch me."

Poney was in charge of a dozen heavy flatcars. Suddenly he shot away from them with a sharp "Whutt !" A

switch opened in the shadows ahead; he turned up it like a rabbit as it snapped behind him, and the long line

of twelvefoothigh lumber jolted on into the arms of a fullsized roadloco, who acknowledged receipt

"My man's reckoned the smartest in the yard at that trick," he said, returning. "Gives me cold shivers when

another fool tries it, though. That's where my short wheelbase comes in. Like as not you'd have your tender

"No? Of course this ain't your regular business, but say, don't you think it's interestin'? Have you seen the

yardmaster? Well, he's the greatest man on earth, an' don't you forget it. When are we through? Why, kid,

it's always like this, day an' night Sundays an' weekdays. See that thirtycar freight slidin' in four, no, five

tracks off? She's all mixed freight, sent here to be sorted out into straight trains. That's why we're cuttin' out

the cars one by one." He gave a vigorous push to a westbound car as he spoke, and started back with a little

"Jack my drivers, but it's Homeless Kate! Why, Kate, ain't there no gettin' you back to your friends? There's

forty chasers out for you from your road, if there's one. Who's holdin' you now?"

"Wish I knew," whimpered Homeless Kate. "I belong in Topeka, but I've bin to Cedar Rapids; I've bin to

Winnipeg; I've bin to Newport News; I've bin all down the old Atlanta and West Point; an' I've bin to Buffalo.

Maybe I'll fetch up at Haverstraw. I've only bin out ten months, but I'm homesick I'm just achin' homesick."

"Try Chicago, Katie," said the switchingloco; and the battered old car lumbered down the track, jolting: "I

"'Yard's full o' Homeless Kates an' Wanderin' Willies," he explained to .007. "I knew an old Fitchburg

flatcar out seventeen months; an' one of ours was gone fifteen 'fore ever we got track of her. Dunno quite

how our men fix it. 'Swap around, I guess. Anyway, I've done my duty. She's on her way to Kansas, via

Chicago; but I'll lay my next boilerful she'll be held there to wait consignee's convenience, and sent back to

"Can't get all them twelve on to the flat. Break 'em in half, Dutchy!" cried Poney. But it was .007 who was

backed down to the last six cars, and he nearly blew up with surprise when he found himself pushing them on

to a huge ferryboat. He had never seen deep water before, and shivered as the flat drew away and left his

After this he was hurried to the freighthouse, where he saw the yardmaster, a smallish, whitefaced man in

shirt, trousers, and slippers, looking down upon a sea of trucks, a mob of bawling truckmen, and squadrons of

"That's shippers' carts loadin' on to the receivin' trucks," said the small engine, reverently. "But he don't care.

He lets 'em cuss. He's the CzarKingBoss! He says 'Please,' and then they kneel down an' pray. There's

three or four strings o' today's freight to be pulled before he can attend to them. When he waves his hand that

A string of loaded cars slid out down the track, and a string of empties took their place. Bales, crates, boxes,

jars, carboys, frails, cases, and packages flew into them from the freighthouse as though the cars had been

A purplefaced truckman shouldered his way to the yardmaster, and shook his fist under his nose. The

yardmaster never looked up from his bundle of freight receipts. He crooked his forefinger slightly, and a tall

young man in a red shirt, lounging carelessly beside him, hit the truckman under the left ear, so that he

"Eleven, seven, ninetyseven, L. Y. S.; fourteen ought ought three; nineteen thirteen; one one four; seventeen

ought twentyone M. B.; and the ten westbound. All straight except the two last. Cut 'em off at the junction.

An' that's all right. Pull that string." The yardmaster, with mild blue eyes, looked out over the howling

"All things bright and beautiful, All creatures great and small, All things wise and wonderful, The Lawd

.007 moved out the cars and delivered them to the regular roadengine. He had never felt quite so limp in his

"Curious, ain't it?" said Poney, puffing, on the next track. "You an' me, if we got that man under our bumpers,

we'd work him into red waste an' not know what we'd done; butup there with the steam hummin' in his

"I know," said .007. "Makes me feel as if I'd dropped my Fire an' was getting cold. He is the greatest man on

They were at the far north end of the yard now, under a switchtower, looking down on the fourtrack way of

the main traffic. The Boston Compound was to haul .007's string to some faraway northern junction over an

indifferent roadbed, and she mourned aloud for the ninetysix pound rails of the B. A.

"You're young; you're young," she coughed. "You don't realise your responsibilities."

"Yes, he does," said Poney, sharply; "but he don't lie down under 'em." Then, with asidespurt of steam,

exactly like a tough spitting: "There ain't more than fifteen thousand dollars' worth o' freight behind her

anyway, and she goes on as if 't were a hundred thousand same as the Mogul's. Excuse me, madam, but

you've the track .... She's stuck on a deadcentre again bein' specially designed not to."

The Compound crawled across the tracks on a long slant, groaning horribly at each switch, and moving like a

cow in a snowdrift. There was a little pause along the yard after her taillights had disappeared; switches

"Now I'll show you something worth," said Poney. "When the Purple Emperor ain't on time, it's about time to

"Boom!" went the clock in the big yardtower, and far away .007 heard a full, vibrating " Yah! Yah! Yah!" A

headlight twinkled on the horizon like a star, grew an overpowering blaze, and whooped up the humming

"With a michnai ghignai shtingal! Yah! Yah! Yah! Ein zwei drei Mutter! Yah! Yah! Yah! She

climb upon der shteeple, Und she frighten all der people. Singin' michnai ghignai shtingal! Yah! Yah!"

The last defiant "yah! yah!" was delivered a mile and a half beyond the passengerdepot; but .007 had caught

one glimpse of the superb sixwheelcoupled racinglocomotive, who hauled the pride and glory of the road

the giltedged Purple Emperor, the millionaires' southbound express, laying the miles over his shoulder as

a man peels a shaving from a soft board. The rest was a blur of maroon enamel, a bar of white light from the

electrics in the cars, and a flicker of nickelplated handrail on the rear platform.

"Seventyfive miles an hour these five miles. Baths, I've heard; barber's shop; ticker; and a library and the,

rest to match. Yes, sir; seventyfive an hour! But he'll talk to you in the roundhouse just as democratic as I

would. And I cuss my wheelbase! I'd kick clean off the track at half his gait. He's the Master of our

Lodge. Cleans up at our house. I'll introdooce you some day. He's worth knowin'! There ain't many can sing

.007 was too full of emotions to answer. He did not hear a raging of telephonebells in the switchtower, nor

"'Nough to run her a hundred mile out o' this, if I could," said the engineer, who belonged to the open road

"Then get. The Flying Freight's ditched forty mile out, with fifty rod o' track ploughed up. No; no one's hurt,

but both tracks are blocked. Lucky the wreckin'car an' derrick are this end of the yard. Crew 'll be along in a

" Well, I could jest kick my little sawedoff self," said Poney, as .007 was backed, with a bang, on to a grim

and grimy car like a caboose, but full of tools a flatcar and a derrick behind it. "Some folks are one thing,

and some are another; but you're in luck, kid. They push a wreckingcar. Now, don't get rattled. Your

wheelbase will keep you on the track, and there ain't any curves worth mentionin'. Oh, say! Comanche told

me there's one section o' sawedged track that's liable to jounce ye a little. Fifteen an' a half out, after the grade

at Jackson's crossin'. You'll know it by a farmhouse an' a windmill an' five maples in the dooryard.

Windmill's west o' the maples. An' there's an eightyfoot iron bridge in the middle o' that section with no

Before he knew well what had happened, .007 was flying up the track into the dumb, dark world. Then fears

of the night beset him. He remembered all he had ever heard of landslides, rainpiled boulders, blown trees,

and strayed cattle, all that the Boston Compound had ever said of responsibility, and a great deal more that

came out of his own head. With a very quavering voice he whistled for his first gradecrossing (an event in

the life of a locomotive), and his nerves were in no way restored by the sight of a frantic horse and a

whitefaced man in a buggy less than a yard from his right shoulder. Then he was sure he would jump the

track; felt his flanges mounting the rail at every curve; knew that his first grade would make him lie down

even as Comanche had done at the Newtons. He whirled down the grade to Jackson's crossing, saw the

windmill west of the maples, felt the badly laid rails spring under him, and sweated big drops all over his

boiler. At each jarring bump he believed an axle had smashed, and he took the eightyfoot bridge without the

guardrail like a hunted cat on the top of a fence. Then a wet leaf stuck against the glass of his headlight and

threw a flying shadow on the track, so that he thought it was some little dancing animal that would feel soft if

he ran over it; and anything soft underfoot frightens a locomotive as it does an elephant. But the men behind

seemed quite calm. The wreckingcrew were climbing carelessly from the caboose to the tender even

jesting with the engineer, for he heard a shuffling of feet among the coal, and the snatch of a song, something

"Oh, the Empire State must learn to wait, And the Cannonball go hang! When the Westbound's ditched,

and the toolcar's hitched, And it's 'way for the Breakdown Gang (Tarera!) 'Way for the Breakdown Gang!"

"Say! Eustis knew what he was doin' when he designed this rig. She's a hummer. New, too."

A burning pain shot through .007's right rear driver a crippling, stinging pain.

"This," said .007, as he flew, "is a hotbox. Now I know what it means. I shall go to pieces, I guess. My first

"She'll hold for all we want of her. We're 'most there. Guess you chaps back had better climb into your car,"

But the crew fled back with laughter. They had no wish to be jerked on to the track. The engineer half turned

"Now it's come!" said .007, as he yelled aloud, and slid like a sleigh. For the moment he fancied that he

"That must be the emergencystop that Poney guyed me about," he gasped, as soon as he could think.

"Hotboxemergencystop. They both hurt; but now I can talk back in the roundhouse."

He was halted, all hissing hot, a few feet in the rear of what doctors would call a compoundcomminuted car.

His engineer was kneeling down among his drivers, but he did not call .007 his "Arab steed," nor cry over

him, as the engineers did in the newspapers. He just bad worded .007, and pulled yards of charred

cottonwaste from about the axles, and hoped he might some day catch the idiot who had packed it. Nobody

else attended to him, for Evans, the Mogul's engineer, a little cut about the head, but very angry, was

"Dangerousest beasts they are," said one of the crew. "Get under the pilot an' sort o' twiddle ye off the track,

"Don't they?" roared Evans, who was a redheaded Welshman. "You talk as if I was ditched by a hog every

foolday o' the week. I ain't friends with all the cussed halffed shotes in the State o' New York. No, indeed!

It was not a bad night's work for one stray piglet. The Flying Freight seemed to have flown in every direction,

for the Mogul had mounted the rails and run diagonally a few hundred feet from right to left, taking with him

such cars as cared to follow. Some did not. They broke their couplers and lay down, while rear cars frolicked

over them. In that game, they had ploughed up and removed and twisted a good deal of the lefthand track.

The Mogul himself had waddled into a cornfield, and there he knelt fantastic wreaths of green twisted

round his crankpins; his pilot covered with solid clods of field, on which corn nodded drunkenly; his fire put

out with dirt (Evans had done that as soon as he recovered his senses); and his broken headlight half full of

halfburnt moths. His tender had thrown coal all over him, and he looked like a disreputable buffalo who had

tried to wallow in a general store. For there lay scattered over the landscape, from the burst cars,

typewriters, sewingmachines, bicycles in crates, a consignment of silverplated imported harness, French

dresses and gloves, a dozen finely moulded hardwood mantels, a fifteenfoot naphthalaunch, with a solid

brass bedstead crumpled around her bows, a case of telescopes and microscopes, two coffins, a case of very

best candies, some giltedged dairy produce, butter and eggs in an omelette, a broken box of expensive toys,

and a few hundred other luxuries. A camp of tramps hurried up from nowhere, and generously volunteered to

help the crew. So the brakemen, armed with couplerpins, walked up and down on one side, and the

freightconductor and the fireman patrolled the other with their hands in their hippockets. A longbearded

man came out of a house beyond the cornfield, and told Evans that if the accident had happened a little later

in the year, all his corn would have been burned, and accused Evans of carelessness. Then he ran away, for

Evans was at his heels shrieking: "'T was his hog done it his hog done it! Let me kill him! Let me kill him!"

Then the wreckingcrew laughed; and the farmer put his head out of a window and said that Evans was no

But .007 was very sober. He had never seen a wreck before, and it frightened him. The crew still laughed, but

they worked at the same time; and .007 forgot horror in amazement at the way they handled the Mogul

freight. They dug round him with spades; they put ties in front of his wheels, and jackscrews under him;

they embraced him with the derrickchain and tickled him with crowbars; while .007 was hitched on to

wrecked cars and backed away till the knot broke or the cars rolled clear of the track. By dawn thirty or forty

men were at work, replacing and ramming down the ties, gauging the rails and spiking them. By daylight all

cars who could move had gone on in charge of another loco; the track was freed for traffic; and .007 had

hauled the old Mogul over a small pavement of ties, inch by inch, till his flanges bit the rail once more, and

he settled down with a clank. But his spirit was broken, and his nerve was gone.

"'T weren't even a hog," he repeated dolefully; "'t were a shote; and you you of all of 'em had to help me

"But how in the whole long road did it happen?" asked .007, sizzling with curiosity.

"Happen! It didn't happen! It just come! I sailed right on top of him around that last curve thought he was a

skunk. Yes; he was all as little as that. He hadn't more 'n squealed once 'fore I felt my bogies lift (he'd rolled

right under the pilot), and I couldn't catch the track again to save me. Swivelled clean off, I was. Then I felt

him sling himself along, all greasy, under my left leadin' driver, and, oh, Boilers! that mounted the rail. I

heard my flanges zippin' along the ties, an' the next I knew I was playin' 'Sally, Sally Waters' in the corn, my

tender shuckin' coal through my cab, an' old man Evans lyin' still an' bleedin' in front o' me. Shook? There

"Eighty. Call him a hundred pound at the outside. He's worth about four 'n' a half dollars. Ain't it awful? Ain't

it enough to give you nervous prostration? Ain't it paralysin'? Why, I come just around that curve " and the

"Well, it's all in the day's run, I guess," said .007, soothingly; "an' an' a cornfield's pretty soft fallin'."

"If it had bin a sixtyfoot bridge, an' I could ha' slid off into deep water an' blown up an' killed both men,

same as others have done, I wouldn't ha' cared; but to be ditched by a shote an' you to help me out in a

cornfield an' an old hayseed in his nightgown cussin' me like as if I was a sick truckhorse! ... Oh, it's

awful! Don't call me Mogul! I'm a sewin'machine. they'll guy my sandbox off in the yard."

And .007, his hotbox cooled and his experience vastly enlarged, hauled the Mogul freight slowly to the

"Hello, old man! Bin out all night, hain't ye?" said the irrepressible Poney, who had just come off duty.

"Well, I must say you look it. Costlyperishablefragileimmediate that's you! Go to the shops, take them

"Leave him alone, Poney, " said .007 severely, as he was swung on the turntable, "or I'll "

"'Didn't know the old granger was any special friend o' yours, kid. He wasn't overcivil to you last time I saw

"I know it; but I've seen a wreck since then, and it has about scared the paint off me. I'm not going to guy

anyone as long as I steam not when they're new to the business an' anxious to learn. And I'm not goin' to

guy the old Mogul either, though I did find him wreathed around with roastin'ears. 'T was a little bit of a

shote not a hog just a shote, Poney no bigger'n a lump of anthracite I saw it that made all the mess.

"Found that out already, have you? Well, that's a good beginnin'." It was the Purple Emperor, with his high,

tight, plateglass cab and green velvet cushion, waiting to be cleaned for his next day's fly.

"Let me make you two gen'lemen acquainted," said Poney. "This is our Purple Emperor, kid, whom you were

admirin' and, I may say, envyin' last night. This is a new brother, worshipful sir, with most of his mileage

"'Happy to meet you," said the Purple Emperor, with a glance round the crowded roundhouse. "I guess there

are enough of us here to form a full meetin'. Ahem! By virtue of the authority vested in me as Head of the

Road, I hereby declare and pronounce No. .007 a full and accepted Brother of the Amalgamated Brotherhood

of Locomotives, and as such entitled to all shop, switch, track, tank, and roundhouse privileges throughout

my jurisdiction, in the Degree of Superior Flier, it bein' well known and credibly reported to me that our

Brother has covered fortyone miles in thirtynine minutes and a half on an errand of mercy to the afflicted.

At a convenient time, I myself will communicate to you the Song and Signal of this Degree whereby you may

be recognised in the darkest night. Take your stall, newly entered Brother among Locomotives! "

Now, in the darkest night, even as the Purple Emperor said, if you will stand on the bridge across the

freightyard, looking down upon the fourtrack way, at 2:30 A. M., neither before nor after, when the White

Moth, that takes the overflow from the Purple Emperor, tears south with her seven vestibuled creamwhite

cars, you will hear, as the yardclock makes the halfhour, a faraway sound like the bass of a violoncello,

"With a michnai ghignai shtingal! Yah! Yah! Yah! Ein zwei drei Mutter! Yah! Yah! Yah! She

climb upon der shteeple, Und she frighten all der people, Singin' michnai ghignai shtingal! Yah! Yah!"

That is .007 covering his one hundred and fiftysix miles in two hundred and twentyone minutes.

They had good reason to be proud, and better reason to be afraid, all twelve of them; for though they had

fought their way, game by game, up the teams entered for the polo tournament, they were meeting

theArchangels that afternoon in the final match; and the Archangels men were playing with half a dozen

ponies apiece. As the game was divided into six quarters of eight minutes each, that meant a fresh pony after

every halt. The Skidars' team, even supposing there were no accidents, could only supply one pony for every

other change; and two to one is heavy odds. Again, as Shiraz, the grey Syrian, pointed out, they were meeting

the pink and pick of the poloponies of Upper India, ponies that had cost from a thousand rupees each, while

they themselves were a cheap lot gathered, often from countrycarts, by their masters, who belonged to a

"Money means pace and weight," said Shiraz, rubbing his blacksilk nose dolefully along his neatfitting

"Ah, but we aren't playing the maxims," said The Maltese Cat. "We're playing the game; and we've the great

advantage of knowing the game. Just think a stride, Shiraz! We've pulled up from bottom to second place in

two weeks against all those fellows on the ground here. That's because we play with our heads as well as our

"It makes me feel undersized and unhappy all the same," said Kittiwynk, a mousecoloured mare with a red

browband and the cleanest pair of legs that ever an aged pony owned. "They've twice our style, these

Kittiwynk looked at the gathering and sighed. The hard, dusty pologround was lined with thousands of

soldiers, black and white, not counting hundreds and hundreds of carriages and drags and dogcarts, and ladies

with brilliantcoloured parasols, and officers in uniform and out of it, and crowds of natives behind them;

and orderlies on camels, who had halted to watch the game, instead of carrying letters up and down the

station; and native horsedealers running about on thineared Biluchi mares, looking for a chance to sell a

few firstclass poloponies. Then there were the ponies of thirty teams that had entered for the Upper India

FreeforAll Cup nearly every pony of worth and dignity, from Mhow to Peshawar, from Allahabad to

Multan; prize ponies, Arabs, Syrian, Barb, countrybred, Deccanee, Waziri, and Kabul ponies of every

colour and shape and temper that you could imagine. Some of them were in matroofed stables, close to the

pologround, but most were under saddle, while their masters, who had been defeated in the earlier games,

It was a glorious sight, and the come and go of the little, quick hooves, and the incessant salutations of ponies

that had met before on other pologrounds or racecourses were enough to drive a fourfooted thing wild.

But the Skidars' team were careful not to know their neighbours, though half the ponies on the ground were

anxious to scrape acquaintance with the little fellows that had come from the North, and, so far, had swept the

"Let's see," said a soft goldcoloured Arab, who had been playing very badly the day before, to The Maltese

Cat; "didn't we meet in Abdul Rahman's stable in Bombay, four seasons ago? I won the Paikpattan Cup next

"Not me," said The Maltese Cat, politely. "I was at Malta then, pulling a vegetablecart. I don't race. I play

"Keep yourselves to yourselves," said The Maltese Cat to his companions. "We don't want to rub noses with

all those gooserumped halfbreeds of Upper India. When we've won this Cup they'll give their shoes to

"Stale as last night's feed when a muskrat has run over it," said Polaris, a rather heavyshouldered grey; and

"The sooner you forget that the better," said The Maltese Cat, cheerfully. "They've finished tiffin in the big

tent. We shall be wanted now. If your saddles are not comfy, kick. If your bits aren't easy, rear, and let the

Each pony had his sais, his groom, who lived and ate and slept with the animal, and had betted a good deal

more than he could afford on the result of the game. There was no chance of anything going wrong, but to

make sure, each sais was shampooing the legs of his pony to the last minute. Behind the saises sat as many of

the Skidars' regiment as had leave to attend the match about half the native officers, and a hundred or two

dark, blackbearded men with the regimental pipers nervously fingering the big, beribboned bagpipes. The

Skidars were what they call a Pioneer regiment, and the bagpipes made the national music of half their men.

The native officers held bundles of polosticks, long canehandled mallets, and as the grand stand filled after

lunch they arranged themselves by ones and twos at different points round the ground, so that if a stick were

broken the player would not have far to ride for a new one. An impatient British Cavalry Band struck up "If

you want to know the time, ask a p'leeceman!" and the two umpires in light dustcoats danced out on two

little excited ponies. The four players of the Archangels' team followed, and the sight of their beautiful

"Wait till we know," said The Maltese Cat. "Two of 'em are playing in blinkers, and that means they can't see

to get out of the way of their own side, or they may shy at the umpires' ponies. They've all got white

"And," said Kittiwynk, dancing to take the stiffness out of her, "they carry their whips in their hands instead

"True enough. No man can manage his stick and his reins and his whip that way," said The Maltese Cat. "I've

He quivered his little, fleabitten withers just to show how satisfied he felt; but his heart was not so light.

Ever since he had drifted into India on a troopship, taken, with an old rifle, as part payment for a racing

debt, The Maltese Cat had played and preached polo to the Skidars' team on the Skidars' stony pologround.

Now a polopony is like a poet. If he is born with a love for the game, he can be made. The Maltese Cat

knew that bamboos grew solely in order that poloballs might be turned from their roots, that grain was given

to ponies to keep them in hard condition, and that ponies were shod to prevent them slipping on a turn. But,

besides all these things, he knew every trick and device of the finest game in the world, and for two seasons

"Remember," he said for the hundredth time, as the riders came up, "you must play together, and you must

Kittiwynk, Shiraz, Polaris, and a short high little bay fellow with tremendous hocks and no withers worth

speaking of (he was called Corks) were being girthed up, and the soldiers in the background stared with all

"I want you men to keep quiet," said Lutyens, the captain of the team, "and especially not to blow your

"If we win you can do what you please," said Lutyens, with a smile, as he slipped the loop of his stick over

his wrist, and wheeled to canter to his place. The Archangels' ponies were a little bit above themselves on

account of the manycoloured crowd so close to the ground. Their riders were excellent players, but they

were a team of crack players instead of a crack team; and that made all the difference in the world. They

honestly meant to play together, but it is very hard for four men, each the best of the team he is picked from,

to remember that in polo no brilliancy in hitting or riding makes up for playing alone. Their captain shouted

his orders to them by name, and it is a curious thing that if you call his name aloud in public after an

Englishman you make him hot and fretty. Lutyens said nothing to his men, because it had all been said

before. He pulled up Shiraz, for he was playing "back," to guard the goal. Powell on Polaris was halfback,

and Macnamara and Hughes on Corks and Kittiwynk were forwards. The tough, bamboo ball was set in the

middle of the ground, one hundred and fifty yards from the ends, and Hughes crossed sticks, heads up, with

the Captain of the Archangels, who saw fit to play forward; that is a place from which you cannot easily

control your team. The little click as the caneshafts met was heard all over the ground, and then Hughes

made some sort of quick wriststroke that just dribbled the ball a few yards. Kittiwynk knew that stroke of

old, and followed as a cat follows a mouse. While the Captain of the Archangels was wrenching his pony

round, Hughes struck with all his strength, and next instant Kittiwynk was away, Corks following close

" Pull out to the left," said Kittiwynk between her teeth; "it's coming your way, Corks!"

The back and halfback of the Archangels were tearing down on her just as she was within reach of the ball.

Hughes leaned forward with a loose rein, and cut it away to the left almost under Kittiwynk's foot, and it

hopped and skipped off to Corks, who saw that, if he was not quick it would run beyond the boundaries. That

long bouncing drive gave the Archangels time to wheel and send three men across the ground to head off

Corks. Kittiwynk stayed where she was; for she knew the game. Corks was on the ball half a fraction of a

second before the others came up, and Macnamara, with a backhanded stroke, sent it back across the ground

to Hughes, who saw the way clear to the Archangels' goal, and smacked the ball in before any one quite knew

"That's luck," said Corks, as they changed ends. "A goal in three minutes for three hits, and no riding to speak

"'Don't know," said Polaris. "We've made 'em angry too soon. Shouldn't wonder if they tried to rush us off

"Keep the ball hanging, then," said Shiraz. "That wears out every pony that is not used to it."

Next time there was no easy galloping across the ground. All the Archangels closed up as one man, but there

they stayed, for Corks, Kittiwynk, and Polaris were somewhere on the top of the ball, marking time among

"We can do this all day," said Polaris, ramming his quarters into the side of another pony. "Where do you

"I'll I'll be driven in an ekka if I know," was the gasping reply, "and I'd give a week's feed to get my

"The dust is rather bad. Whew! That was one for my offhock. Where's the ball, Corks?"

"Under my tail. At least, the man's looking for it there! This is beautiful. They can't use their sticks, and it's

"Here, don't touch me! I can't see. I'll I'll back out, I think," said the pony in blinkers, who knew that if you

Corks was watching the ball where it lay in the dust, close to his near foreleg, with Macnamara's shortened

stick taptapping it from time to time. Kittiwynk was edging her way out of the scrimmage, whisking her

"Ho! They've got it," she snorted. "Let me out!" and she galloped like a riflebullet just behind a tall lanky

"Not today, thank you," said Hughes, as the blow slid off his raised stick, and Kittiwynk laid her shoulder to

the tall pony's quarters, and shoved him aside just as Lutyens on Shiraz sent the ball where it had come from,

and the tall pony went skating and slipping away to the left. Kittiwynk, seeing that Polaris had joined Corks

in the chase for the ball up the ground, dropped into Polaris' place, and then "time" was called.

The Skidars' ponies wasted no time in kicking or fuming. They knew that each minute's rest meant so much

gain, and trotted off to the rails, and their saises began to scrape and blanket and rub them at once.

"Whew!" said Corks, stiffening up to get all the tickle of the big vulcanite scraper. "If we were playing pony

for pony, we would bend those Archangels double in half an hour. But they'll bring up fresh ones and fresh

"Looks puffy," said Corks. "You must have had rather a wipe. Don't let it stiffen. You 'll be wanted again in

"'Ground's like your shoe, except where they put too much water on it," said Kittiwynk. "Then it's slippery.

Don't play in the centre. There's a bog there. I don't know how their next four are going to behave, but we

kept the ball hanging, and made 'em lather for nothing. Who goes out? Two Arabs and a couple of

Kitty was talking with a neck of a lathercovered sodawater bottle between her teeth, and trying to look

"What's bad?" said Grey Dawn, giving to the girth and admiring his wellset shoulders.

"You Arabs can't gallop fast enough to keep yourselves warm that's what Kitty means," said Polaris,

limping to show that his hock needed attention. "Are you playing back, Grey Dawn?"

"'Looks like it," said Grey Dawn, as Lutyens swung himself up. Powell mounted The Rabbit, a plain bay

countrybred much like Corks, but with mulish ears. Macnamara took FaizUllah, a handy, shortbacked

little red Arab with a long tail, and Hughes mounted Benami, an old and sullen brown beast, who stood over

"Benami looks like business," said Shiraz. "How's your temper, Ben?" The old campaigner hobbled off

without answering, and The Maltese Cat looked at the new Archangel ponies prancing about on the ground.

They were four beautiful blacks, and they saddled big enough and strong enough to eat the Skidars' team and

"They're chargerscavalry chargers!" said Kittiwynk, indignantly. "They'll never see thirteenthree again."

"They've all been fairly measured, and they've all got their certificates," said The Maltese Cat, " or they

wouldn't be here. We must take things as they come along, and keep your eyes on the ball."

The game began, but this time the Skidars were penned to their own end of the ground, and the watching

"FaizUllah is eating whip," said Corks. They could hear the leatherthonged poloquirt lacing the little

fellow's wellrounded barrel. Then The Rabbit's shrill neigh came across the ground.

"Play the game don't talk," The Maltese Cat whickered; and all the ponies wriggled with excitement, and

the soldiers and the grooms gripped the railings and shouted. A black pony with blinkers had singled out old

Benami, and was interfering with him in every possible way. They could see Benami shaking his head up and

The game flickered up and down between goalpost and goalpost, and the black ponies were getting more

confident as they felt they had the legs of the others. The ball was hit out of a little scrimmage, and Benami

The blinkered black pony came up like a hawk, with two of his own side behind him, and Benami's eye

glittered as he raced. The question was which pony should make way for the other, for each rider was

perfectly willing to risk a fall in a good cause. The black, who had been driven nearly crazy by his blinkers,

trusted to his weight and his temper; but Benami knew how to apply his weight and how to keep his temper.

They met, and there was a cloud of dust. The black was lying on his side, all the breath knocked out of his

body. The Rabbit was a hundred yards up the ground with the ball, and Benami was sitting down. He had slid

nearly ten yards on his tail, but he had had his revenge, and sat cracking his nostrils till the black pony rose.

"That's what you get for interfering. Do you want any more?" said Benami, and he plunged into the game.

Nothing was done that quarter, because FaizUllah would not gallop, though Macnamara beat him whenever

he could spare a second. The fall of the black pony had impressed his companions tremendously, and so the

But as The Maltese Cat said when "time" was called, and the four came back blowing and dripping,

FaizUllah ought to have been kicked all round Umballa. If he did not behave better next time The Maltese

The third quarter of a game is generally the hottest, for each side thinks that the others must be pumped; and

Lutyens took over The Maltese Cat with a pat and a hug, for Lutyens valued him more than anything else in

the world; Powell had Shikast, a little grey rat with no pedigree and no manners outside polo; Macnamara

mounted Bamboo, the largest of the team; and Hughes Who's Who, alias The Animal. He was supposed to

have Australian blood in his veins, but he looked like a clotheshorse, and you could whack his legs with an

They went out to meet the very flower of the Archangels' team; and when Who's Who saw their elegantly

booted legs and their beautiful satin skins, he grinned a grin through his light, wellworn bridle.

"My word!" said Who's Who. "We must give 'em a little football. These gentlemen need a rubbing down."

"No biting," said The Maltese Cat, warningly; for once or twice in his career Who's Who had been known to

"Who said anything about biting? I'm not playing tiddlywinks. I'm playing the game."

The Archangels came down like a wolf on the fold, for they were tired of football, and they wanted polo.

They got it more and more. Just after the game began, Lutyens hit a ball that was coming towards him

rapidly, and it rolled in the air, as a ball sometimes will, with the whirl of a frightened partridge. Shikast

heard, but could not see it for the minute, though he looked everywhere and up into the air as The Maltese

Cat had taught him. When he saw it ahead and overhead he went forward with Powell as fast as he could put

foot to ground. It was then that Powell, a quiet and levelheaded man, as a rule, became inspired, and played

a stroke that sometimes comes off successfully after long practice. He took his stick in both hands, and,

standing up in his stirrups, swiped at the ball in the air, Munipore fashion. There was one second of paralysed

astonishment, and then all four sides of the ground went up in a yell of applause and delight as the ball flew

true (you could see the amazed Archangels ducking in their saddles to dodge the line of flight, and looking at

it with open mouths), and the regimental pipes of the Skidars squealed from the railings as long as the pipers

had breath. Shikast heard the stroke; but he heard the head of the stick fly off at the same time. Nine hundred

and ninetynine ponies out of a thousand would have gone tearing on after the ball with a useless player

pulling at their heads; but Powell knew him, and he knew Powell; and the instant he felt Powell's right leg

shift a trifle on the saddleflap, he headed to the boundary, where a native officer was frantically waving a

Once before in his life The Maltese Cat had heard that very same stroke played off his own back, and had

profited by the confusion it wrought. This time he acted on experience, and leaving Bamboo to guard the goal

in case of accidents, came through the others like a flash, head and tail low Lutyens standing up to ease him

swept on and on before the other side knew what was the matter, and nearly pitched on his head between

the Archangels' goalpost as Lutyens kicked the ball in after a straight scurry of a hundred and fifty yards. If

there was one thing more than another upon which The Maltese Cat prided himself, it was on this quick,

streaking kind of run half across the ground. He did not believe in taking balls round the field unless you

were clearly overmatched. After this they gave the Archangels fiveminuted football; and an expensive fast

pony hates football because it rumples his temper. Who's Who showed himself even better than Polaris in this

game. He did not permit any wriggling away, but bored joyfully into the scrimmage as if he had his nose in a

feedbox and was looking for something nice. Little Shikast jumped on the ball the minute it got clear, and

every time an Archangel pony followed it, he found Shikast standing over it, asking what was the matter.

"If we can live through this quarter," said The Maltese Cat, "I sha'n't care. Don't take it out of yourselves. Let

So the ponies, as their riders explained afterwards, "shutup." The Archangels kept them tied fast in front of

their goal, but it cost the Archangels' ponies all that was left of their tempers; and ponies began to kick, and

men began to repeat compliments, and they chopped at the legs of Who's Who, and he set his teeth and stayed

where he was, and the dust stood up like a tree over the scrimmage until that hot quarter ended.

They found the ponies very excited and confident when they went to their saises; and The Maltese Cat had to

"Now we are all going in for the second time," said he, "and they are trotting out fresh ponies. You think you

"How long does it take to get a goal?" The Maltese Cat answered. "For pity's sake, don't run away with a

notion that the game is halfwon just because we happen to be in luck now! They'll ride you into the grand

"Don't let them have a look at the ball, if you can help it. Now leave me alone. I must get all the rest I can

He hung down his head and let all his muscles go slack, Shikast, Bamboo, and Who's Who copying his

"Better not watch the game," he said. "We aren't playing, and we shall only take it out of ourselves if we

They did their best, but it was hard advice to follow. The hooves were drumming and the sticks were rattling

all up and down the ground, and yells of applause from the English troops told that the Archangels were

pressing the Skidars hard. The native soldiers behind the ponies groaned and grunted, and said things in

undertones, and presently they heard a longdrawn shout and a clatter of hurrahs!

"One to the Archangels," said Shikast, without raising his head. "Time's nearly up. Oh, my sire and dam!"

"FaizUllah," said The Maltese Cat, "if you don't play to the last nail in your shoes this time, I'll kick you on

The saises looked at each other gravely as they rubbed their ponies' legs. This was the time when long purses

began to tell, and everybody knew it. Kittiwynk and the others came back, the sweat dripping over their

"Yes; but it's two Arabs and two countrybreds to play now," said Corks. "FaizUllah, remember!" He spoke

As Lutyens mounted Grey Dawn he looked at his men, and they did not look pretty. They were covered with

dust and sweat in streaks. Their yellow boots were almost black, their wrists were red and lumpy, and their

eyes seemed two inches deep in their heads; but the expression in the eyes was satisfactory.

"Did you take anything at tiffin?" said Lutyens; and the team shook their heads. They were too dry to talk.

"They've got the better ponies," said Powell. "I sha'n't be sorry when this business is over."

That fifth quarter was a painful one in every way. FaizUllah played like a little red demon, and The Rabbit

seemed to be everywhere at once, and Benami rode straight at anything and everything that came in his way;

while the umpires on their ponies wheeled like gulls outside the shifting game. But the Archangels had the

better mounts, they had kept their racers till late in the game, and never allowed the Skidars to play

football. They hit the ball up and down the width of the ground till Benami and the rest were outpaced. Then

they went forward, and time and again Lutyens and Grey Dawn were just, and only just, able to send the ball

away with a long, spitting backhander. Grey Dawn forgot that he was an Arab; and turned from grey to blue

as he galloped. Indeed, he forgot too well, for he did not keep his eyes on the ground as an Arab should, but

stuck out his nose and scuttled for the dear honour of the game. They had watered the ground once or twice

between the quarters, and a careless waterman had emptied the last of his skinful all in one place near the

Skidars' goal. It was close to the end of the play, and for the tenth time Grey Dawn was bolting after the ball,

when his near hindfoot slipped on the greasy mud, and he rolled over and over, pitching Lutyens just clear

of the goalpost; and the triumphant Archangels made their goal. Then "time" was calledtwo goals all; but

Lutyens had to be helped up, and Grey Dawn rose with his near hindleg strained somewhere.

"Collarbone, of course," said Lutyens, between his teeth. It was the third time he had broken it in two years,

"Hold on. We've five good minutes yet, and it isn't my right hand. We 'll stick it out."

"I say," said the Captain of the Archangels, trotting up, "are you hurt, Lutyens? We'll wait if you care to put

in a substitute. I wish I mean the fact is, you fellows deserve this game if any team does. 'Wish we could

The Captain of the Archangels stared for a little. "That's not half bad," he said, and went back to his own side,

while Lutyens borrowed a scarf from one of his native officers and made a sling of it. Then an Archangel

galloped up with a big bathsponge, and advised Lutyens to put it under his armpit to ease his shoulder, and

between them they tied up his left arm scientifically; and one of the native officers leaped forward with four

The team looked at Lutyens piteously, and he nodded. It was the last quarter, and nothing would matter after

that. They drank out the dark golden drink, and wiped their moustaches, and things looked more hopeful.

The Maltese Cat had put his nose into the front of Lutyens' shirt and was trying to say how sorry he was.

"He knows," said Lutyens, proudly. "The beggar knows. I've played him without a bridle before now for

"No," said Lutyens. "It's the last quarter, and we've got to make our goal and win. I'll trust The Cat."

"You hear that?" said The Maltese Cat, proudly, to the others. "It's worth while playing polo for ten years to

have that said of you. Now then, my sons, come along. We'll kick up a little bit, just to show the Archangels

And, sure enough, as they went on to the ground, The Maltese Cat, after satisfying himself that Lutyens was

home in the saddle, kicked out three or four times, and Lutyens laughed. The reins were caught up anyhow in

the tips of his strapped left hand, and he never pretended to rely on them. He knew The Cat would answer to

the least pressure of the leg, and by way of showing off for his shoulder hurt him very much he bent the

little fellow in a close figureofeight in and out between the goalposts. There was a roar from the native

officers and men, who dearly loved a piece of dugabashi (horsetrick work), as they called it, and the pipes

very quietly and scornfully droned out the first bars of a common bazaar tune called "Freshly Fresh and

Newly New," just as a warning to the other regiments that the Skidars were fit. All the natives laughed.

"And now," said The Maltese Cat, as they took their place, "remember that this is the last quarter, and follow

"Let me go on. All those people on all four sides will begin to crowd in just as they did at Malta. You'll

hear people calling out, and moving forward and being pushed back; and that is going to make the Archangel

ponies very unhappy. But if a ball is struck to the boundary, you go after it, and let the people get out of your

way. I went over the pole of a fourinhand once, and picked a game out of the dust by it. Back me up when

There was a sort of an allround sound of sympathy and wonder as the last quarter opened, and then there

began exactly what The Maltese Cat had foreseen. People crowded in close to the boundaries, and the

Archangels' ponies kept looking sideways at the narrowing space. If you know how a man feels to be

cramped at tennis not because he wants to run out of the court, but because he likes to know that he can at a

pinch you will guess how ponies must feel when they are playing in a box of human beings.

"I'll bend some of those men if I can get away," said Who's Who, as he rocketed behind the ball; and Bamboo

nodded without speaking. They were playing the last ounce in them, and The Maltese Cat had left the goal

undefended to join them. Lutyens gave him every order that he could to bring him back, but this was the first

time in his career that the little wise grey had ever played polo on his own responsibility, and he was going to

"What are you doing here?" said Hughes, as The Cat crossed in front of him and rode off an Archangel.

"The Cat's in charge mind the goal!" shouted Lutyens, and bowing forward hit the ball full, and followed

"No football," said The Maltese Cat. "Keep the ball by the boundaries and cramp 'em. Play open order, and

Across and across the ground in big diagonals flew the ball, and whenever it came to a flying rush and a

stroke close to the boundaries the Archangel ponies moved stiffly. They did not care to go headlong at a wall

of men and carriages, though if the ground had been open they could have turned on a sixpence.

"Wriggle her up the sides," said The Cat. "Keep her close to the crowd. They hate the carriages. Shikast, keep

Shikast and Powell lay left and right behind the uneasy scuffle of an open scrimmage, and every time the ball

was hit away Shikast galloped on it at such an angle that Powell was forced to hit it towards the boundary;

and when the crowd had been driven away from that side, Lutyens would send the ball over to the other, and

Shikast would slide desperately after it till his friends came down to help. It was billiards, and no football,

"If they get us out in the middle of the ground they'll walk away from us. Dribble her along the sides," cried

So they dribbled all along the boundary, where a pony could not come on their righthand side; and the

Archangels were furious, and the umpires had to neglect the game to shout at the people to get back, and

several blundering mounted policemen tried to restore order, all close to the scrimmage, and the nerves of the

Five or six times an Archangel hit the ball up into the middle of the ground, and each time the watchful

Shikast gave Powell his chance to send it back, and after each return, when the dust had settled, men could

Every now and again there were shouts of "Side! Off side!" from the spectators; but the teams were too busy

to care, and the umpires had all they could do to keep their maddened ponies clear of the scuffle.

At last Lutyens missed a short easy stroke, and the Skidars had to fly back helterskelter to protect their own

goal, Shikast leading. Powell stopped the ball with a backhander when it was not fifty yards from the

goalposts, and Shikast spun round with a wrench that nearly hoisted Powell out of his saddle.

"Now's our last chance," said The Cat, wheeling like a cockchafer on a pin. "We've got to ride it out. Come

Lutyens felt the little chap take a deep breath, and, as it were, crouch under his rider. The ball was hopping

towards the righthand boundary, an Archangel riding for it with both spurs and a whip; but neither spur nor

whip would make his pony stretch himself as he neared the crowd. The Maltese Cat glided under his very

nose, picking up his hind legs sharp, for there was not a foot to spare between his quarters and the other

pony's bit. It was as neat an exhibition as fancy figureskating. Lutyens hit with all the strength he had left,

but the stick slipped a little in his hand, and the ball flew off to the left instead of keeping close to the

boundary. Who's Who was far across the ground, thinking hard as he galloped. He repeated stride for stride

The Cat's manoeuvres with another Archangel pony, nipping the ball away from under his bridle, and

clearing his opponent by half a fraction of an inch, for Who's Who was clumsy behind. Then he drove away

towards the right as The Maltese Cat came up from the left; and Bamboo held a middle course exactly

between them. The three were making a sort of Governmentbroadarrowshaped attack; and there was only

the Archangels' back to guard the goal; but immediately behind them were three Archangels racing all they

knew, and mixed up with them was Powell sending Shikast along on what he felt was their last hope. It takes

a very good man to stand up to the rush of seven crazy ponies in the last quarters of a Cup game, when men

are riding with their necks for sale, and the ponies are delirious. The Archangels' back missed his stroke and

pulled aside just in time to let the rush go by. Bamboo and Who's Who shortened stride to give The Cat room,

and Lutyens got the goal with a clean, smooth, smacking stroke that was heard all over the field. But there

was no stopping the ponies. They poured through the goalposts in one mixed mob, winners and losers

together, for the pace had been terrific. The Maltese Cat knew by experience what would happen, and, to save

Lutyens, turned to the right with one last effort, that strained a backsinew beyond hope of repair. As he did

so he heard the righthand goalpost crack as a pony cannoned into it crack, splinter and fall like a mast. It

had been sawed three parts through in case of accidents, but it upset the pony nevertheless, and he blundered

into another, who blundered into the lefthand post, and then there was confusion and dust and wood.

Bamboo was lying on the ground, seeing stars; an Archangel pony rolled beside him, breathless and angry;

Shikast had sat down dogfashion to avoid falling over the others, and was sliding along on his little bobtail

in a cloud of dust; and Powell was sitting on the ground, hammering with his stick and trying to cheer. All the

others were shouting at the top of what was left of their voices, and the men who had been spilt were shouting

too. As soon as the people saw no one was hurt, ten thousand native and English shouted and clapped and

yelled, and before any one could stop them the pipers of the Skidars broke on to the ground, with all the

native officers and men behind them, and marched up and down, playing a wild Northern tune called

"Zakhme Began," and through the insolent blaring of the pipes and the highpitched native yells you could

hear the Archangels' band hammering, "For they are all jolly good fellows," and then reproachfully to the

Besides all these things and many more, there was a Commanderinchief, and an InspectorGeneral of

Cavalry, and the principal veterinary officer of all India standing on the top of a regimental coach, yelling

like schoolboys; and brigadiers and colonels and commissioners, and hundreds of pretty ladies joined the

chorus. But The Maltese Cat stood with his head down, wondering how many legs were left to him; and

Lutyens watched the men and ponies pick themselves out of the wreck of the two goalposts, and he patted

" I say," said the Captain of the Archangels, spitting a pebble out of his mouth, "will you take three thousand

"No thank you. I've an idea he's saved my life," said Lutyens, getting off and lying down at full length. Both

teams were on the ground too, waving their boots in the air, and coughing and drawing deep breaths, as the

saises ran up to take away the ponies, and an officious watercarrier sprinkled the players with dirty water till

"My aunt!" said Powell, rubbing his back, and looking at the stumps of the goalposts, "That was a game!"

They played it over again, every stroke of it, that night at the big dinner, when the FreeforAll Cup was

filled and passed down the table, and emptied and filled again, and everybody made most eloquent speeches.

About two in the morning, when there might have been some singing, a wise little, plain little, grey little head

"Hurrah! Bring him in," said the Archangels; and his sais, who was very happy indeed, patted The Maltese

Cat on the flank, and he limped in to the blaze of light and the glittering uniforms, looking for Lutyens. He

was used to messes, and men's bedrooms, and places where ponies are not usually encouraged, and in his

youth had jumped on and off a messtable for a bet. So he behaved himself very politely, and ate bread

dipped in salt, and was petted all round the table, moving gingerly; and they drank his health, because he had

That was glory and honour enough for the rest of his days, and The Maltese Cat did not complain much when

the veterinary surgeon said that he would be no good for polo any more. When Lutyens married, his wife did

not allow him to play, so he was forced to be an umpire; and his pony on these occasions was a fleabitten

grey with a neat polotail, lame all round, but desperately quick on his feet, and, as everybody knew, Past

If you remember my improper friend Brugglesmith, you will also bear in mind his friend McPhee, Chief

Engineer of the Breslau, whose dingey Brugglesmith tried to steal. His apologies for the performances of

Brugglesmith may one day be told in their proper place: the tale before us concerns McPhee. He was never a

racing engineer, and took special pride in saying as much before the Liverpool men; but he had a thirtytwo

years' knowledge of machinery and the humours of ships. One side of his face had been wrecked through the

bursting of a pressuregauge in the days when men knew less than they do now, and his nose rose grandly

out of the wreck, like a club in a public riot. There were cuts and lumps on his head, and he would guide your

forefinger through his short irongrey hair and tell you how he had come by his trademarks. He owned all

sorts of certificates of extracompetency, and at the bottom of his cabin chest of drawers, where he kept the

photograph of his wife, were two or three Royal Humane Society medals for saving lives at sea.

Professionally it was different when crazy steeragepassengers jumped overboard professionally,

McPhee does not approve of saving life at sea, and he has often told me that a new Hell awaits stokers and

trimmers who sign for a strong man's pay and fall sick the second day out. He believes in throwing boots at

fourth and fifth engineers when they wake him up at night with word that a bearing is redhot, all because a

lamp's glare is reflected red from the twirling metal. He believes that there are only two poets in the world;

one being Robert Burns, of course, and the other Gerald Massey. When he has time for novels he reads

Wilkie Collins and Charles Reade chiefly the latter and knows whole pages of "Very Hard Cash" by heart.

In the saloon his table is next to the captain's, and he drinks only water while his engines work.

He was good to me when we first met, because I did not ask questions, and believed in Charles Reade as a

most shamefully neglected author. Later he approved of my writings to the extent of one pamphlet of

twentyfour pages that I wrote for Holdock, Steiner Chase, owners of the line, when they bought some

ventilating patent and fitted it to the cabins of the Breslau, Spandau, and Koltzau. The purser of the Breslau

recommended me to Holdock's secretary for the job; and Holdock, who is a Wesleyan Methodist, invited me

to his house, and gave me dinner with the governess when the others had finished, and placed the plans and

specifications in my hand, and I wrote the pamphlet that same afternoon. It was called "Comfort in the

Cabin," and brought me seven pound ten, cash down an important sum of money in those days; and the

governess, who was teaching Master John Holdock his scales, told me that Mrs. Holdock had told her to keep

an eye on me, in case I went away with coats from the hatrack. McPhee liked that pamphlet enormously, for

it was composed in the BouverieByzantine style, with baroque and rococo embellishments; and afterwards

he introduced me to Mrs. McPhee, who succeeded Dinah in my heart; for Dinah was half a world away, and

it is wholesome and antiseptic to love such a woman as Janet McPhee. They lived in a little twelvepound

house, close to the shipping. When McPhee was away Mrs. McPhee read the Lloyds column in the papers,

and called on the wives of senior engineers of equal social standing. Once or twice, too, Mrs. Holdock visited

Mrs. McPhee in a brougham with celluloid fittings, and I have reason to believe that, after she had played

owner's wife long enough, they talked scandal. The Holdocks lived in an oldfashioned house with a big

brick garden not a mile from the McPhees, for they stayed by their money as their money stayed by them; and

in summer you met their brougham solemnly junketing by Theydon Bois or Loughton. But I was Mrs.

McPhee's friend, for she allowed me to convoy her westward, sometimes, to theatres where she sobbed or

laughed or shivered with a simple heart; and she introduced me to a new world of doctors' wives, captains'

wives, and engineers' wives, whose whole talk and thought centred in and about ships and lines of ships you

have never heard of. There were sailingships, with stewards and mahogany and maple saloons, trading to

Australia, taking cargoes of consumptives and hopeless drunkards for whom a seavoyage was

recommended; there were frowzy little West African boats, full of rats and cockroaches, where men died

anywhere but in their bunks; there were Brazilian boats whose cabins could be hired for merchandise, that

went out loaded nearly awash; there were Zanzibar and Mauritius steamers and wonderful reconstructed

boats that plied to the other tide of Borneo. These were loved and known, for they earned our bread and a

little butter, and we despised the big Atlantic boats, and made fun of the P. O. and Orient liners, and swore by

I had only just come back to England when Mrs. McPhee invited me to dinner at three o'clock in the

afternoon, and the notepaper was almost bridal in its scented creaminess. When I reached the house I saw that

there were new curtains in the window that must have cost fortyfive shillings a pair; and as Mrs. McPhee

Now, that hatrack was oakthirty shillings, at least. McPhee came downstairs with a sober foot he steps

as lightly as a cat, for all his weight, when he is at sea and shook hands in a new and awful manner a

parody of old Holdock's style when he says goodbye to his skippers. I perceived at once that a legacy had

come to him, but I held my peace, though Mrs. McPhee begged me every thirty seconds to eat a great deal

and say nothing. It was rather a mad sort of meal, because McPhee and his wife took hold of hands like little

children (they always do after voyages), and nodded and winked and choked and gurgled, and hardly ate a

A female servant came in and waited; though Mrs. McPhee had told me time and again that she would thank

no one to do her housework while she had her health. But this was a servant with a cap, and I saw Mrs.

McPhee swell and swell under her garancecoloured gown. There is no small freeboard to Janet McPhee,

nor is garance any subdued tint; and with all this unexplained pride and glory in the air I felt like watching

fireworks without knowing the festival. When the maid had removed the cloth she brought a pineapple that

would have cost half a guinea at that season (only McPhee has his own way of getting such things, and a

Canton china bowl of dried lichis, and a glass plate of preserved ginger, and a small jar of sacred and

Imperial chowchow that perfumed the room. McPhee gets it from a Dutchman in Java, and I think he

doctors it with liqueurs. But the crown of the feast was some Madeira of the kind you can only come by if

you know the wine and the man. A little maizewrapped fig of clotted Madeira cigars went with the wine,

and the rest was a pale blue smoky silence; Janet, in her splendour, smiling on us two, and patting McPhee's

"We'll drink," said McPhee, slowly, rubbing his chin, "to the eternal damnation o' Holdock, Steiner Chase."

Of course I answered "Amen," though I had made seven pound ten shillings out of the firm. McPhee's

"Tell him, Mac," said she; and that is another proof of Janet's goodness and wifely love. A smaller woman

"I'll go to sea no more unless there's no sayin' a private yacht, maybe wi' a small an' handy auxiliary."

"It's not enough for that," said Janet. "We're fair rich welltodo, but no more. A new gown for church, and

"Twentyfive thousand pounds." I drew a long breath. "An' I've been earnin' twentyfive an' twenty pound a

The last words came away with a roar, as though the wide world was conspiring to beat him down.

"All this time I'm waiting," I said. "I know nothing since last September. Was it left you?"

They laughed aloud together. "It was left," said McPhee, choking. " Ou, ay, it was left. That's vara good. Of

course it was left. Janet, d' ye note that? It was left. Now if you'd put that in your pamphlet it would have

been vara jocose. It was left." He slapped his thigh and roared till the wine quivered in the decanter.

The Scotch are a great people, but they are apt to hang over a joke too long, particularly when no one can see

"When I rewrite my pamphlet I'll put it in, McPhee. Only I must know something more first."

McPhee thought for the length of half a cigar, while Janet caught my eye and led it round the room to one

new thing after another the new vinepattern carpet, the new chiming rustic clock between the models of

the Colombo outriggerboats, the new inlaid sideboard with a purple cutglass flowerstand, the fender of

"In October o' last year the Board sacked me," began McPhee. "In October o' last year the Breslau came in for

winter overhaul. She'd been runnin' eight months two hunder an' forty days an' I was three days makin' up

my indents, when she went to drydock. All told, mark you, it was this side o' three hunder pound to be

preceese, two hunder an' eightysix pound four shillings. There's not another man could ha' nursed the

Breslau for eight months to that tune. Never again never again! They may send their boats to the bottom,

"It's irritatin', Janet, it's just irritatin'. I ha' been justified from first to last, as the world knows, but but I

canna forgie 'em. Ay, wisdom is justified o' her children; an' any other man than me wad ha' made the indent

eight hunder. Hay was our skipper ye'll have met him. They shifted him to the Torgau, an' bade me wait for

the Breslau under young Bannister. Ye'll obsairve there'd been a new election on the Board. I heard the shares

were sellin' hither an' yon, an' the major part of the Board was new to me. The old Board would ne'er ha' done

it. They trusted me. But the new Board were all for reorganisation. Young Steiner Steiner's son the Jew,

was at the bottom of it, an' they did not think it worth their while to send me word. The first I knew an' I

was Chief Engineer was the notice of the line's winter sailin's, and the Breslau timed for sixteen days

between port an' port! Sixteen days, man! She's a good boat, but eighteen is her summer time, mark you.

"We've got to make it,' he said. 'Ye should not ha' sent in a three hunder pound indent.'

"'E'en tell 'em so,' he says. 'I'm a married man, an' my fourth's on the ways now, she says.'"

"A boy wi' red hair," Janet put in. Her own hair is the splendid redgold that goes with a creamy

"My word, I was an angry man that day! Forbye I was fond o' the old Breslau, I looked for a little

consideration from the Board after twenty years' service. There was Boardmeetin' on Wednesday, an' I slept

overnight in the engineroom, takin' figures to support my case. Well, I put it fair and square before them all.

'Gentlemen,' I said, 'I've run the Breslau eight seasons, an' I believe there's no fault to find wi' my wark. But if

ye haud to this' I waggled the advertisement at 'em 'this that I've never heard of it till I read it at breakfast,

I do assure you on my professional reputation, she can never do it. That is to say, she can for a while, but at a

"'What the deil d' ye suppose we pass your indents for?' says old Holdock. 'Man, we're spendin' money like

"'I'll leave it in the Board's hands,' I said, 'if two hunder an' eightyseven pound is anything beyond right and

reason for eight months.' I might ha' saved my breath, for the Board was new since the last election, an' there

they sat, the damned deevidendhuntin' shipchandlers, deaf as the adders o' Scripture.

"'Keep faith wi' the Breslau, then,' I said. 'She's served you well, an' your father before you. She'll need her

bottom restiffenin', an' new bedplates, an' turnin' out the forward boilers, an' returnin' all three cylinders,

"'Because one employee is afraid? 'says young Steiner. 'Maybe a piano in the Chief Engineer's cabin would

"'Understand, gentlemen,' I said. 'If the Breslau is made a sixteenday boat, ye'll find another engineer.'

"'I'm speakin' for myself,' I said. 'Bannister has bairns. 'An' then I lost my temper. 'Ye can run her into Hell

"'Ye can consider yourself dismissed. We must preserve discipline among our employees,' said old Holdock,

an' he looked round to see that the Board was with him. They knew nothin' God forgie 'em an' they

"I went out an' sat down by the hall porter to get my wits again. I'm thinkin' I swore at the Board. Then auld

McRimmon o' McNaughten McRimmon came, oot o' his office, that's on the same floor, an' looked at

me, proppin' up one eyelid wi' his forefinger. Ye know they call him the Blind Deevil, forbye he onythin' but

"I was past prayin' for by then. 'A Chief Engineer sacked after twenty years' service because he'll not risk the

"The auld man sucked in his lips an' whistled. 'AH,' said he, 'the new timin'. I see!' He doddered into the

Boardroom I'd just left, an' the Dandiedog that is just his blind man's leader stayed wi' me. That was

providential. In a minute he was back again. 'Ye've cast your bread on the watter, McPhee, an' be damned to

you,' he says. 'Whaur's my dog? My word, is he on your knee? There's more discernment in a dog than a Jew.

"'They'll pay more for the Breslau,' I said. 'Get off my knee, ye smotherin' beast.'

"'Bearin's hot, eh?' said McRimmon. 'It's thirty year since a man daur curse me to my face. Time was I'd ha'

"'Forgie's all!' I said. He was wearin' to eighty, as I knew. 'I was wrong, McRimmon; but when a man's shown

"'So I hear,' says McRimmon. 'Ha' ye ony objection to a tramp freighter? It's only fifteen a month, but they

say the Blind Deevil feeds a man better than others. She's my Kite. Come ben. Ye can thank Dandie, here. I'm

no used to thanks. An' noo,' says he, 'what possessed ye to throw up your berth wi' Holdock?'

"'Hoot, oot,' said he. 'Ye might ha' crammed her a little enough to show ye were drivin' her an' brought

her in twa days behind. What's easier than to say ye slowed for bearin's, eh? All my men do it, and I believe

"He puckered his dry face an' twisted in his chair. 'The warld an' a',' says he. 'My God, the vara warld an' a'

"'This,' I said. 'There's just one thing that each one of us in his trade or profession will not do for ony

consideration whatever. If I run to time I run to time barrio' always the risks o' the high seas. Less than that,

under God, I have not done. More than that, by God, I will not do! There's no trick o' the trade I'm not

"'But yon matter o' fair rennin"s just my Shekinah, ye'll understand. I daurna tamper wi' that. Nursing weak

engines is fair craftsmanship; but what the Board ask is cheatin', wi' the risk o' manslaughter addeetional.'

"There was some more talk, an' next week I went aboard the Kite, twentyfive hunder ton, simple compound,

a Black Bird tramp. The deeper she rode, the better she'd steam. I've snapped as much as eleven out of her,

but eight point three was her fair normal. Good food forward an' better aft, all indents passed wi'out marginal

remarks, the best coal, new donkeys, and good crews. There was nothin' the old man would not do, except

paint. That was his deeficulty. Ye could no more draw paint than his last teeth from him. He'd come down to

dock, an' his boats a scandal all along the watter, an' he'd whine an' cry an' say they looked all he could

desire. Every owner has his non plus ultra, I've obsairved. Paint was McRimmon's. But you could get round

his engines without riskin' your life, an', for all his blindness, I've seen him reject five flawed intermediates,

one after the other, on a nod from me; an' his cattlefittin's were guaranteed for North Atlantic winter

weather. Ye ken what that means? McRimmon an' the Black Bird Line, God bless him!

"Oh, I forgot to say she would lie down an' fill her forward deck green, an' snore away into a twentyknot

gale fortyfive to the minute, three an' a half knots an hour, the engines runnin' sweet an' true as a bairn

breathin' in its sleep. Bell was skipper; an' forbye there's no love lost between crews an' owners, we were fond

o' the auld Blind Deevil an' his dog, an' I'm thinkin' he liked us. He was worth the windy side o' twa million

sterlin', an' no friend to his own bloodkin. Money's an awfu' thing overmuch for a lonely man.

I'd taken her out twice, there an' back again, when word came o' the Breslau's breakdown, just as I

prophesied. Calder was her engineer he's not fit to run a tug down the Solent and he fairly lifted the

engines off the bedplates, an' they fell down in heaps, by what I heard. So she filled from the after

stuffin'box to the after bulkhead, an' lay stargazing, with seventynine squealin' passengers in the saloon,

till the Camaralzaman o' Ramsey Gold's Cartagena line gave her a tow to the tune o' five thousand seven

hunder an' forty pound, wi' costs in the Admiralty Court. She was helpless, ye'll understand, an' in no case to

meet ony weather. Five thousand seven hunder an' forty pounds, with costs, an' exclusive o' new engines!

"But, even so, the new Board were all for retrenchment. Young Steiner, the Jew, was at the bottom of it. They

sacked men right an' left, that would not eat the dirt the Board gave 'em. They cut down repairs; they fed

crews wi' leavin's an' scrapin's; and, reversin', McRimmon's practice, they hid their defeeciencies wi' paint an'

"In January we went to drydock, an' in the next dock lay the Grotkau, their big freighter that was the

Dolabella o' Piegan, Piegan Walsh's line in '84 a Clydebuilt iron boat, a flatbottomed, pigeonbreasted,

underengined, bullnosed bitch of a five thousand ton freighter, that would neither steer, nor steam, nor stop

when ye asked her. Whiles she'd attend to her helm, whiles she'd take charge, whiles she'd wait to scratch

herself, an' whiles she'd buttock into a dockhead. But Holdock and Steiner had bought her cheap, and painted

her all over like the Hoor o' Babylon, an' we called her the Hoor for short." (By the way, McPhee kept to that

name throughout the rest of his tale; so you must read accordingly.) "I went to see young Bannister he had

to take what the Board gave him, an' he an' Calder were shifted together from the Breslau to this abortion

an' talkin' to him I went into the dock under her. Her plates were pitted till the men that were paint, paint,

paintin' her laughed at it. But the warst was at the last. She'd a great clumsy iron twelvefoot Thresher

propeller Aitcheson designed the Kites' and just on the tail o' the shaft, behind the boss, was a red weepin'

"He knew what I meant. 'Oh, yon's a superfeecial flaw,' says he, not lookin' at me.

"'Superfeecial Gehenna!' I said. 'Ye'll not take her oot wi' a solution o' continuity that like.'

"'They'll putty it up this evening,' he said. 'I'm a married man, an' ye used to know the Board.'

"I e'en said what was gied me in that hour. Ye know how a drydock echoes. I saw young Steiner standin'

listenin' above me, an', man, he used language provocative of a breach o' the peace. I was a spy and a

disgraced employ, an' a corrupter o' young Bannister's morals, an' he'd prosecute me for libel. He went away

when I ran up the steps I'd ha' thrown him into the dock if I'd caught him an' there I met McRimmon, wi'

"'McPhee,' said he, 'ye're no paid to fight Holdock, Steiner, Chase Company, Limited, when ye meet. What's

"'No more than a tailshaft rotten as a kailstump. For ony sakes go an' look, McRimmon. It's a comedietta.'

"'I'm feared o' yon conversational Hebrew,' said he. 'Whaur's the flaw, an' what like?'

"'A seveninch crack just behind the boss. There's no power on earth will fend it just jarrin' off.'

"'So it is; so it is,' said McRimmon. 'We've all oor leemitations. Ye're certain it was a crack?'

"'Man, it's a crevasse,' I said, for there were no words to describe the magnitude of it. 'An' young Bannister's

"'Weell, I tak' it oor business is to mind oor business. If ye've ony friends aboard her, McPhee, why not bid

"'I was thinkin' o' tea in the cuddy,' I said. 'Engineers o' tramp freighters cannot afford hotel prices.'

"'Na! na!' says the auld man, whimperin'. 'Not the cuddy. They'll laugh at my Kite, for she's no plastered with

paint like the Hoor. Bid them to Radley's, McPhee, an' send me the bill. Thank Dandie, here, man. I'm no

used to thanks.' Then he turned him round. (I was just thinkin' the vara same thing.) 'Mister McPhee,' said he,

"'Preserve 's!' I said, clean jumped oot o' mysel'. 'I was but thinkin' you're fey, McRimmon.'

"Dod, the auld deevil laughed till he nigh sat down on Dandie. 'Send me the bill,' says he. 'I'm long past

"Bell and I bid young Bannister and Calder to dinner at Radley's. They'll have no laughin' an' singin' there,

"We were no drunk in ony preceese sense o' the word, but Radley's showed me the dead men. There were six

"Do you mean to tell me that you four got away with a magnum and a half a piece, besides whisky " I

"Man, we were not settin' down to drink," he said. "They no more than made us wutty. To be sure, young

Bannister laid his head on the table an' greeted like a bairn, an' Calder was all for callin' on Steiner at two in

the morn an' painting him galleygreen; but they'd been drinkin' the afternoon. Lord, how they twa cursed the

Board, an' the Grotkau, an' the tailshaft, an' the engines, an' a'! They didna talk o' superfeecial flaws that

night. I mind young Bannister an' Calder shakin' hands on a bond to be revenged on the Board at ony

reasonable cost this side o' losing their certificates. Now mark ye how false economy ruins business. The

Board fed them like swine (I have good reason to know it), an' I've obsairved wi' my ain people that if ye

touch his stomach ye wauken the deil in a Scot. Men will tak' a dredger across the Atlantic if they 're well fed,

an' fetch her somewhere on the broadside o' the Americas; but bad food's bad service the warld over.

"The bill went to McRimmon, an' he said no more to me till the weekend, when I was at him for more paint,

for we'd heard the Kite was chartered Liverpoolside. 'Bide whaur ye're put,' said the Blind Deevil. 'Man, do

ye wash in champagne? The Kite's no leavin' here till I gie the order, an' how am I to waste paint onher, wi'

"She was our big freighter McIntyre was engineer an' I knew she'd come from overhaul not three months.

That morn I met McRimmon's headclerk ye'll not know him fair bitin' his nails off wi' mortification.

"'That's just what he's done and South American freights higher than we'll live to see them again. He's laid

her up to paint her to paint her to paint her!' says the little clerk, dancin' like a hen on a hot plate. 'Five

thousand ton o' potential freight rottin' in drydock, man; an' he dolin' the paint out in quarterpound tins, for

it cuts him to the heart, mad though he is. An' the Grotkau the Grotkau of all conceivable bottoms

"I was staggered wi' this folly considerin' the dinner at Radley's in connection wi' the same.

"Ye may well stare, McPhee,' says the headclerk. 'There's engines, an' rollin' stock, an' iron bridgesd' ye

know what freights are noo? an' pianos, an' millinery, an' fancy Brazil cargo o' every species pourin' into the

"I could say no more than 'Obey orders, if ye break owners,' but on the Kite we believed McRimmon was

mad; an' McIntyre of the Lammergeyer was for lockin' him up by some patent legal process he'd found in a

book o' maritime law. An' a' that week South American freights rose an' rose. It was sinfu'!

"Syne Bell got orders to tak' the Kite round to Liverpool in waterballast, and McRimmon came to bid's

goodbye, yammerin' an' whinin' o'er the acres o' paint he'd lavished on the Lammergeyer.

"'I look to you to retrieve it,' says he. 'I look to you to reimburse me! 'Fore God, why are ye not cast off? Are

"'What odds, McRimmon?' says Bell. 'We'll be a day behind the fair at Liverpool. The Grotkau's got all the

freight that might ha' been ours an' the Lammergeyer's.' McRimmon laughed an' chuckled the pairfect

eemage o' senile dementia. Ye ken his eyebrows wark up an' down like a gorilla's.

"'Ye're under sealed orders,' said he, teeheein' an' scratchin' himself. 'Yon's they' to be opened seriatim.

"Says Bell, shufflin' the envelopes when the auld man had gone ashore: 'We're to creep round a' the south

coast, standin' in for orders his weather, too. There's no question o' his lunacy now.'

"Well, we buttocked the auld Kite along vara bad weather we made standin' in all alongside for

telegraphic orders, which are the curse o' skippers. Syne we made over to Holyhead, an' Bell opened the last

envelope for the last instructions. I was wi' him in the cuddy, an' he threw it over to me, cryin': 'Did ye ever

"I'll no say what McRimmon had written, but he was far from mad. There was a sou'wester brewin' when we

made the mouth o' the Mersey, a bitter cold morn wi' a greygreen sea and a greygreen sky Liverpool

weather, as they say; an' there we lay choppin', an' the crew swore. Ye canna keep secrets aboard ship. They

"Syne we saw the Grotkau rollin' oot on the top o' flood, deep an' double deep, wi' her newpainted funnel an'

her newpainted boats an' a'. She looked her name, an', moreover, she coughed like it. Calder tauld me at

Radley's what ailed his engines, but my own ear would ha' told me twa mile awa', by the beat o' them. Round

we came, plungin' an' squatterin' in her wake, an' the wind cut wi' good promise o' more to come. By six it

blew hard but clear, an' before the middle watch it was a sou'wester in airnest.

"'She'll edge into Ireland, this gait,' says Bell. I was with him on the bridge, watchin' the Grotkau's port light.

Ye canna see green so far as red, or we'd ha' kept to leeward. We'd no passengers to consider, an' (all eyes

being on the Grotkau) we fair walked into a liner rampin' home to Liverpool. Or, to be preceese, Bell no more

than twisted the Kite oot from under her bows, and there was a little damnin' betwix' the twa bridges. "Noo a

passenger" McPhee regarded me benignantly "wad ha' told the papers that as soon as he got to the

Customs. We stuck to the Grotkau's tail that night an' the next twa days she slowed down to five knot by

"But you don't go by the Fastnet to get to any South American port, do you?" I said.

"We do not. We prefer to go as direct as may be. But we were followin' the Grotkau, an' she'd no walk into

that gale for ony consideration. Knowin' what I did to her discredit, I couldna blame young Bannister. It was

warkin' up to a North Atlantic winter gale, snow an' sleet an' a perishin' wind. Eh, it was like the Deil walkin'

abroad o' the surface o' the deep, whuppin' off the top o' the waves before he made up his mind. They'd bore

up against it so far, but the minute she was clear o' the Skelligs she fair tucked up her skirts an' ran for it by

"'They'll roll the funnel oot o' her, this gait,' says Bell. 'Why canna Bannister keep her head to sea?'

"It's the tailshaft. Ony rollin''s better than pitchin' wi' superfeecial cracks in the tailshaft. Calder knows that

"'It's ill wark retreevin' steamers this weather,' said Bell. His beard and whiskers were frozen to his oilskin,

an' the spray was white on the weather side of him. Pairfect North Atlantic winter weather!

"One by one the sea raxed away our three boats, an' the davits were crumpled like ram's horns.

"'Yon's bad,' said Bell, at the last. 'Ye canna pass a hawser wi'oot a boat.' Bell was a vara judeecious man

"I'm not one that fashes himself for eventualities outside the engineroom, so I e'en slipped down betwixt

waves to see how the Kite fared. Man, she's the best geared boat of her class that ever left Clyde! Kinloch,

my second, knew her as well as I did. I found him dryin' his socks on the mainsteam, an' combin' his

whiskers wi' the comb Janet gied me last year, for the warld an' a' as though we were in port. I tried the feed,

speered into the stokehole, thumbed all bearin's, spat on the thrust for luck, gied 'em my blessin', an' took

"Then Bell handed me the wheel, an' went below to warm himself. When he came up my gloves were frozen

to the spokes an' the ice clicked over my eyelids. Pairfect North Atlantic winter weather, as I was sayin'.

"The gale blew out by night, but we lay in smotherin' crossseas that made the auld Kite chatter from stem to

stern. I slowed to thirtyfour, I mind no, thirtyseven. There was a long swell the morn, an' the Grotkau

"We were then, maybe, a hunder and fifty mile westsou'west o' Slyne Head, by dead reckonin'. Next day we

made a hunder an' thirty ye'll note we were not racinboats an' the day after a hunder an' sixtyone, an'

that made us, we'll say, Eighteen an' a bittock west, an' maybe Fiftyone an' a bittock north, crossin' all the

North Atlantic liner lanes on the long slant, always in sight o' the Grotkau, creepin' up by night and fallin'

"I was in the engineroom on Friday night, just before the middle watch, when Bell whustled down the tube:

"The Grotkau was just a fair distance south, an' one by one she ran up the three red lights in a vertical line

"'Yon's a tow for us,' said Bell, lickin' his chops. 'She'll be worth more than the Breslau. We'll go down to her,

"'Gie her till daylight. She knows we're here. If Bannister needs help he'll loose a rocket.'

"'Wha told ye Bannister's need? We'll ha' some ragan'bone tramp snappin' her up under oor nose,' said he;

"'Bannister wad like better to go home on a liner an' eat in the saloon. Mind ye what they said o' Holdock

Steiner's food that night at Radley's? Keep her awa', man keep her awa'. A tow's a tow, but a derelict's big

"'Eeh! 'said Bell. 'Yon's an inshot o' yours, Mac. I love ye like a brother. We'll bide whaur we are till

"Syne up went a rocket forward, an' twa on the bridge, an' a blue light aft. Syne a tarbarrel forward again.

"'She's sinkin',' said Bell. 'It's all gaun, an' I'll get no more than a pair o' nightglasses for pickin' up young

"' Fair an' soft again,' I said. 'She's signallin' to the south of us. Bannister knows as well as I that one rocket

would bring the Breslau. He'll no be wastin' fireworks for nothin'. Hear her ca'!'

"The Grotkau whustled an' whustled for five minutes, an' then there were more fireworks a regular

"'That's no for men in the regular trade,' says Bell. 'Ye're right, Mac. That's for a cuddy full o' passengers.' He

"'Liner,' he says. 'Yon's her rocket. Ou, ay; they've waukened the goldstrapped skipper, an' noo they've

waukened the passengers. They're turnin' on the electrics, cabin by cabin. Yon's anither rocket! They're

"'Gie me the glass,' I said. But Bell danced on the bridge, clean dementit. 'Mailsmailsmails!' said he.

'Under contract wi' the Government for the due conveyance o' the mails; an' as such, Mac, yell note, she may

rescue life at sea, but she canna tow! she canna tow! Yon's her nightsignal. She'll be up in half an hour!'

"'Gowk!' I said, 'an' we blazin' here wi' all oor lights. Oh, Bell, ye're a fool!'

"He tumbled off the bridge forward, an' I tumbled aft, an' before ye could wink our lights were oot, the

engineroom hatch was covered, an' we lay pitchdark, watchin' the lights o' the liner come up that the

Grotkau'd been signallin' to. Twenty knot an hour she came, every cabin lighted, an' her boats swung awa'. It

was grandly done, an' in the inside of an hour. She stopped like Mrs. Holdock's machine; down went the

gangway, down went the boats, an' in ten minutes we heard the passengers cheerin', an' awa' she fled.

"'They'll tell o' this all the days they live,' said Bell. 'A rescue at sea by night, as pretty as a play. Young

Bannister an' Calder will be drinkin' in the saloon, an' six months hence the Board o' Trade 'll gie the skipper

"We'll lay by till day ye may think we waited for it wi' sore eyes an' there sat the Grotkau, her nose a bit

"'She'll be fillin' aft,' says Bell; 'for why is she down by the stern? The tailshaft's punched a hole in her, an'

we 've no boats. There's three hunder thousand pound sterlin', at a conservative estimate, droonin' before our

eyes. What's to do?' An' his bearin's got hot again in a minute: he was an incontinent man.

"'Run her as near as ye daur,' I said. 'Gie me a jacket an' a lifeline, an' I'll swum for it.' There was a bit lump

of a sea, an' it was cold in the wind vara cold; but they'd gone overside like passengers, young Bannister an'

Calder an' a', leaving the gangway down on the leeside. It would ha' been a flyin' in the face o' manifest

Providence to overlook the invitation. We were within fifty yards o' her while Kinloch was garmin' me all

over wi' oil behind the galley; an' as we ran past I went outboard for the salvage o' three hunder thousand

pound. Man, it was perishin' cold, but I'd done my job judgmatically, an' came scrapin' all along her side slap

on to the lower gratin' o' the gangway. No one more astonished than me, I assure ye. Before I'd caught my

breath I'd skinned both my knees on the gratin', an' was climbin' up before she rolled again. I made my line

fast to the rail, an' squattered aft to young Bannister's cabin, whaaur I dried me wi' everything in his bunk, an'

put on every conceivable sort o' rig I found till the blood was circulatin'. Three pair drawers, I mind I found

to begin upon an' I needed them all. It was the coldest cold I remember in all my experience.

"Syne I went aft to the engineroom. The Grotkau sat on her own tail, as they say. She was vara shortshafted,

an' her gear was all aft. There was four or five foot o' water in the engineroom slummockin' to and fro, black

an' greasy; maybe there was six foot. The stokehold doors were screwed home, an' the stokehold was tight

enough, but for a minute the mess in the engineroom deceived me. Only for a minute, though, an' that was

because I was not, in a manner o' speakin', as calm as ordinar'. I looked again to mak' sure. 'T was just black

"McPhee, I'm only a passenger," I said, "but you don't persuade me that six foot o' water can come into an

"Who's tryin' to persuade one way or the other?" McPhee retorted. "I'm statin' the facts o' the case the

simple, natural facts. Six or seven foot o' dead watter in the engineroom is a vara depressin' sight if ye think

there's like to be more comin'; but I did not consider that such was likely, and so, yell note, I was not

"I've told ye. There was six feet or more there, wi' Calder's cap floatin' on top."

"Weel, in the confusion o' things after the propeller had dropped off an' the engines were racin' an' a', it's vara

possible that Calder might ha' lost it off his head an' no troubled himself to pick it up again. I remember seem'

"I don't want to know about the cap. I'm asking where the water came from and what it was doing there, and

"Weel, it's a reason that does not properly concern myself only. To be preceese, I'm of opinion that it was

due, the watter, in part to an error o' judgment in another man. We can a' mak' mistakes."

"'She'll do,' I said. 'Send's o'er a hawser, an' a man to steer. I'll pull him in by the lifeline.'

"I could see heads bobbin' back an' forth, an' a whuff or two o' strong words. Then Bell said: 'They'll not trust

"'I'll guarantee ye nothing,' I said, 'except maybe a hammerin' for keepin' me this long.'

"Then he sings out: 'There's no more than one lifebelt, an' they canna find it, or I'd come.'

"'Throw him over, the Jezebel,' I said, for I was oot o' patience; an' they took haud o' that volunteer before he

knew what was in store, and hove him over, in the bight of my lifeline. So I e'en hauled him upon the sag of

it, hand over fist a vara welcome recruit when I'd tilted the salt watter oot of him: for, by the way, he could

"Syne they bent a twainch rope to the lifeline, an' a hawser to that, an' I led the rope o'er the drum of a

handwinch forward, an' we sweated the hawser inboard an' made it fast to the Grotkau's bitts.

"Bell brought the Kite so close I feared she'd roll in an' do the Grotkau's plates a mischief. He hove anither

lifeline to me, an' went astern, an' we had all the weary winch work to do again wi' a second hawser. For all

that, Bell was right: we'd along tow before us, an' though Providence had helped us that far, there was no

sense in leavin' too much to its keepin'. When the second hawser was fast, I was wet wi' sweat, an' I cried Bell

to tak' up his slack an' go home. The other man was by way o' helpin' the work wi' askin' for drinks, but I e'en

told him he must hand reef an' steer, beginnin' with steerin', for I was goin' to turn in. He steered oh, ay, he

steered, in a manner o' speakin'. At the least, he grippit the spokes an' twiddled 'em an' looked wise, but I

doubt if the Hoor ever felt it. I turned in there an' then, to young Bannister's bunk, an' slept past expression. I

waukened ragin' wi' hunger, a fair lump o' sea runnin', the Kite snorin' awa' four knots an hour; an' the

Grotkau slappin' her nose under, an' yawin' an' standin' over at discretion. She was a most disgracefu' tow.

But the shameful thing of all was the food. I raxed me a meal fra galleyshelves an' pantries an' lazareetes an'

cubbyholes that I would not ha' gied to the mate of a Cardiff collier; an' ye ken we say a Cardiff mate will

eat clinkers to save waste. I'm sayin' it was simply vile! The crew had written what they thought of it on the

new paint o' the fo'c'sle, but I had not a decent soul wi' me to complain on. There was nothin' for me to do

save watch the hawsers an' the Kite's tail squatterin' down in white watter when she lifted to a sea; so I got

steam on the after donkeypump, an' pumped oot the engineroom. There's no sense in leavin' waiter loose in

a ship. When she was dry, I went doun the shafttunnel, an' found she was leakin' a little through the

stuffin'box, but nothin' to make wark. The propeller had e'en jarred off, as I knew it must, an' Calder had been

waitin' for it to go wi' his hand on the gear. He told me as much when I met him ashore. There was nothin'

started or strained. It had just slipped awa' to the bed o' the Atlantic as easy as a man dyin' wi' due warning

a most providential business for all concerned. Syne I took stock o' the Grotkau's upper works. Her boats had

been smashed on the davits, an' here an' there was the rail missin', an' a ventilator or two had fetched awa', an'

the bridgerails were bent by the seas; but her hatches were tight, and she'd taken no sort of harm. Dod, I

came to hate her like a human bein', for I was eight weary days aboard, starvin' ay, starvin' within a

cable's length o' plenty. All day I laid in the bunk reading the' WomanHater,' the grandest book Charlie

Reade ever wrote, an' pickin' a toothful here an' there. It was weary, weary work. Eight days, man, I was

aboard the Grotkau, an' not one full meal did I make. Sma' blame her crew would not stay by her. The other

"It came on to blow when we fetched soundin's, an' that kept me standin' by the hawsers, lashed to the

capstan, breathin' twixt green seas. I near died o' cauld an' hunger, for the Grotkau towed like a barge, an' Bell

howkit her along through or over. It was vara thick upChannel, too. We were standin' in to make some sort

o' light, an' we near walked over twa three fishin'boats, an' they cried us we were overclose to Falmouth.

Then we were near cut down by a drunken foreign fruiter that was blunderin' between us an' the shore, and it

got thicker an' thicker that night, an' I could feel by the tow Bell did not know whaur he was. Losh, we knew

in the morn, for the wind blew the fog oot like a candle, an' the sun came clear; and as surely as McRimmon

gied me my cheque, the shadow o' the Eddystone lay across our towrope! We were that near ay, we were

that near! Bell fetched the Kite round with the jerk that came close to tearin' the bitts out o' the Grotkau, an' I

mind I thanked my Maker in young Bannister's cabin when we were inside Plymouth breakwater.

"The first to come aboard was McRimmon, wi' Dandie. Did I tell you our orders were to take anything we

found into Plymouth? The auld deil had just come down overnight, puttin' two an' two together from what

Calder had told him when the liner landed the Grotkau's men. He had preceesely hit oor time. I'd hailed Bell

for something to eat, an' he sent it o'er in the same boat wi' McRimmon, when the auld man came to me. He

"'Ye can see,' I said, knockin' the top off another beerbottle. 'I did not sign to be starved, McRimmon.'

"'Nor to swum, either,' said he, for Bell had tauld him how I carried the line aboard. 'Well, I'm thinkin' you'll

be no loser. What freight could we ha' put into the Lammergeyer would equal salvage on four hunder

thousand pounds hull an' cargo? Eh, McPhee? This cuts the liver out o' Holdock, Steiner, Chase Company,

Limited. Eh, McPhee? An' I'm sufferin' from senile dementia now? Eh, MCPhee? An' I'm not daft, am I, till I

begin to paint the Lammergeyer? Eh, McPhee? Ye may weel lift your leg, Dandie! I ha' the laugh o' them all.

"'They thought she was sinkin' after the propeller went. She filled wi' extraordinary rapeedity. Calder said it

"I thought o' the dinner at Radley's, an' what like o' food I'd eaten for eight days.

"'But the crew would not hear o' stayin' and workin' her back under canvas. They're gaun up an' down sayin'

"'Ye know more than I, McRimmon' I said. 'Speakin' wi'oot prejudice, for we're all in the same boat, who

"'Oh, that's it is it?' said the auld man, an' I could see he was surprised. 'A bilgecock, ye say?'

"'I believe it was a bilgecock. They were all shut when I came aboard, but some one had flooded the

engineroom eight feet over all, and shut it off with the worman'wheel gear from the second gratin'

"'Losh!' said McRimmon. 'The ineequity o' man's beyond belief. But it's awfu' discreditable to Holdock,

"'Aweel, Dandie's afflicted wi' the same disease. Dandie, strive against curiosity, for it brings a little dog into

traps an' suchlike. Whaur was the Kite when yon painted liner took off the Grotkau's people?'

"'Dandle,' I said to the dog, 'we must both strive against curiosity. It's an unremunerative business. What's our

"He laughed till he choked. 'Tak' what I gie you, McPhee, an' be content,' he said. 'Lord, how a man wastes

time when he gets old. Get aboard the Kite, mon, as soon as ye can. I've clean forgot there's a Baltic charter

yammerin' for you at London. That'll be your last voyage, I'm thinkin', excep' by way o' pleasure.'

"Steiner's men were comin' aboard to take charge an' tow her round, an' I passed young Steiner in a boat as I

went to the Kite. He looked down his nose; but McRimmon pipes up: 'Here's the man ye owe the Grotkau to

at a price, Steiner at a price! Let me introduce Mr. McPhee to you. Maybe ye've met before; but ye've

"Young Steiner looked angry enough to eat him as he chuckled an' whustled in his dry old throat.

"'Na, na,' says the auld man, in a screech ye could hear to the Hoe, 'but I've twa million sterlin', an' no bairns,

ye Judeeas Apella, if ye mean to fight; an' I'll match ye p'und for p'und till the last p'und's oot. Ye ken me,

"'Dod,' he said betwix' his teeth, sittin' back in the boat, 'I've waited fourteen year to break that Jewfirm, an'

"The Kite was in the Baltic while the auld man was warkin' his warks, but I know the assessors valued the

Grotkau, all told, at over three hunder and sixty thousand her manifest was a treat o' richness an'

McRimmon got a third for salvin' an abandoned ship. Ye see, there's vast deeference between towin' a ship

wi' men on her an' pickin' up a derelict a vast deeference in pounds sterlin'. Moreover, twa three o' the

Grotkau's crew were burnin' to testify about food, an' there was a note o' Calder to the Board, in regard to the

tailshaft, that would ha' been vara damagin' if it had come into court. They knew better than to fight.

"Syne the Kite came back, an' McRimmon paid off me an' Bell personally, an' the rest of the crew pro rata, I

believe it's ca'ed. My share oor share, I should say was just twentyfive thousand pound sterlin'."

"Fiveandtwenty thousand pound sterlin'. Noo, I'm fra the North, and I'm not the like to fling money awa'

rashly, but I'd gie six months' pay one hunder an' twenty pounds to know who flooded the engineroom

of the Grotkau. I'm fairly well acquaint wi' McRimmon's eediosyncrasies, and he'd no hand in it. It was not

Calder, for I've asked him, an' he wanted to fight me. It would be in the highest degree unprofessional o'

Calder not fightin', but openin' bilgecocks but for a while I thought it was him. Ay, I judged it might be

"Weel, I'm inclined to think it was one o' those singular providences that remind us we're in the hands o'

"I did not mean that; but some halfstarvin' oiler or, maybe, trimmer must ha' opened it awhile to mak' sure o'

leavin' the Grotkau. It's a demoralisin' thing to see an engineroom flood up after any accident to the gear

demoralisin' and deceptive both. Aweel, the man got what he wanted, for they went aboard the liner cryin'

that the Grotkau was sinkin'. But it's curious to think o' the consequences. In a' human probability, he's bein'

damned in heaps at the present moment aboard another tramp freighter; an' here am I, wi' fivean'twenty

thousand pound invested, resolute to go to sea no more providential's the preceese word except as a

McPhee kept his word. He and Janet went for a voyage as passengers in the firstclass saloon. They paid

seventy pounds for their berths; and Janet found a very sick woman in the secondclass saloon, so that for

sixteen days she lived below, and chatted with the stewardesses at the foot of the secondsaloon stairs while

her patient slept. McPhee was a passenger for exactly twentyfour hours. Then the engineers' mess where

the oilcloth tables are joyfully took him to its bosom, and for the rest of the voyage that company was

Before he was thirty, he discovered that there was no one to play with him. Though the wealth of three

toilsome generations stood to his account, though his tastes in the matter of books, bindings, rugs, swords,

bronzes, lacquer, pictures, plate, statuary, horses, conservatories, and agriculture were educated and catholic,

the public opinion of his country wanted to know why he did not go to office daily, as his father had before

So he fled, and they howled behind him that he was an unpatriotic Anglomaniac, born to consume fruits, one

totally lacking in public spirit. He wore an eyeglass; he had built a wall round his country house, with a high

gate that shut, instead of inviting America to sit on his flowerbeds; he ordered his clothes from England; and

the press of his abiding city cursed him, from his eyeglass to his trousers, for two consecutive days.

When he rose to light again, it was where nothing less than the tents of an invading army in Piccadilly would

make any difference to anybody. If he had money and leisure, England stood ready to give him all that money

and leisure could buy. That price paid, she would ask no questions. He took his chequebook and

accumulated things warily at first, for he remembered that in America things own the man. To his delight,

he discovered that in England he could put his belongings under his feet; for classes, ranks, and

denominations of people rose, as it were, from the earth, and silently and discreetly took charge of his

possessions. They had been born and bred for that sole purpose servants of the chequebook. When that

The impenetrability of this regulated life irritated him, and he strove to learn something of the human side of

these people. He retired baffled, to be trained by his menials. In America, the native demoralises the English

servant. In England, the servant educates the master. Wilton Sargent strove to learn all they taught as ardently

as his father had striven to wreck, before capture, the railways of his native land; and it must have been some

touch of the old bandit railway blood that bade him buy, for a song, Holt Hangars, whose fortyacre lawn, as

every one knows, sweeps down in velvet to the quadruple tracks of the Great Buchonian Railway. Their

trains flew by almost continuously, with a beelike drone in the day and a flutter of strong wings at night.

The son of Merton Sargent had good right to be interested in them. He owned controlling interests in several

thousand miles of track, not permanent way, built on altogether different plans, where locomotives

eternally whistled for gradecrossings, and parlorcars of fabulous expense and unrestful design skated

round curves that the Great Buchonian would have condemned as unsafe in a constructionline. From the

edge of his lawn he could trace the chaired metals falling away, rigid as a bowstring, into the valley of the

Prest, studded with the long perspective of the block signals, buttressed with stone, and carried, high above

Left to himself, he would have builded a private car, and kept it at the nearest railwaystation, Amberley

Royal, five miles away. But those into whose hands he had committed himself for his English training had

little knowledge of railways and less of private cars. The one they knew was something that existed in the

scheme of things for their convenience. The other they held to be "distinctly American"; and, with the

versatility of his race, Wilton Sargent had set out to be just a little more English than the English.

He succeeded to admiration. He learned not to redecorate Holt Hangars, though he warmed it; to leave his

guests alone; to refrain from superfluous introductions; to abandon manners of which he had great store, and

to hold fast by manner which can after labour be acquired. He learned to let other people, hired for the

purpose, attend to the duties for which they were paid. He learned this he got from a ditcher on the estate

that every man with whom he came in contact had his decreed position in the fabric of the realm, which

position he would do well to consult. Last mystery of all, he learned to golf well: and when an American

knows the innermost meaning of "Don't press, slow back, and keep your eye on the ball," he is, for practical

His other education proceeded on the pleasantest lines. Was he interested in any conceivable thing in heaven

above, or the earth beneath, or the waters under the earth? Forthwith appeared at his table, guided by those

safe hands into which he had fallen, the very men who had best said, done, written, explored, excavated,

built, launched, created, or studied that one thing herders of books and prints in the British Museum;

specialists in scarabs, cartouches, and dynasties Egyptian; rovers and raiders from the heart of unknown

lands; toxicologists; orchidhunters; monographers on flint implements, carpets, prehistoric man, or early

Renaissance music. They came, and they played with him. They asked no questions; they cared not so much

as a pin who or what he was. They demanded only that he should be able to talk and listen courteously. Their

"Never," said Wilton Sargent to himself, "has an American seen England as I'm seeing it"; and he thought,

blushing beneath the bedclothes, of the unregenerate and blatant days when he would steam to office, down

the Hudson, in his twelvehundredton oceangoing steamyacht, and arrive, by gradations, at Bleecker

Street, hanging on to a leather strap between an Irish washerwoman and a German anarchist. If any of his

guests had seen him then they would have said: "How distinctly American!" and Wilton did not care for

that tone. He had schooled himself to an English walk, and, so long as he did not raise it, an English voice.

He did not gesticulate with his hands; he sat down on most of his enthusiasms, but he could not rid himself of

The Shibboleth. He would ask for the Worcestershire sauce: even Howard, his immaculate butler, could not

It was decreed that he should complete his education in a wild and wonderful manner, and, further, that I

Wilton had more than once asked me to Holt Hangars, for the purpose of showing how well the new life

fitted him, and each time I had declared it creaseless. His third invitation was more informal than the others,

and he hinted of some matter in which he was anxious for my sympathy or counsel, or both. There is room

for an infinity of mistakes when a man begins to take liberties with his nationality; and I went down

expecting things. A sevenfoot dogcart and a groom in the black Holt Hangars livery met me at Amberley

Royal. At Holt Hangars I was received by a person of elegance and true reserve, and piloted to my luxurious

Wilton came into my room about half an hour before dinner, and though his face was masked with a

dropcurtain of highly embroidered indifference, I could see that he was not at ease. In time, for he was then

almost as difficult to move as one of my own countrymen, I extracted the tale simple in its extravagance,

extravagant in its simplicity. It seemed that Hackman of the British Museum had been staying with him about

ten days before, boasting of scarabs. Hackman has a way of carrying really priceless antiquities on his

tiering and in his trouser pockets. Apparently, he had intercepted something on its way to the Boulak

Museum which, he said, was "a genuine AmenHotepa queen's scarab of the Fourth Dynasty." Now Wilton

had bought from Cassavetti, whose reputation is not above suspicion, a scarab of much the same

scarabeousness, and had left it in his London chambers. Hackman at a venture, but knowing Cassavetti,

pronounced it an imposition. There was long discussion savant versus millionaire, one saying: " ut I know

it cannot be"; and the other: "But I can and will prove it." Wilton found it necessary for his soul's satisfaction

to go up to town, then and there, a fortymile run, and bring back the scarab before dinner. It was at this

point that he began to cut corners with disastrous results. Amberley Royal station being five miles away, and

putting in of horses a matter of time, Wilton had told Howard, the immaculate butler, to signal the next train

to stop; and Howard, who was more of a man of resource than his master gave him credit for, had, with the

red flag of the ninth hole of the links which crossed the bottom of the lawn, signalled vehemently to the first

downtrain; and it had stopped. Here Wilton's account became confused. He attempted, it seems, to get into

that highly indignant express, but a guard restrained him with more or less force hauled him, in fact,

backyards from the window of a locked carriage. Wilton must have struck the gravel with some vehemence,

for the consequences, he admitted, were a free fight on the line in which he lost his hat, and was at last

He had pressed money upon the man, and very foolishly had explained everything but his name. This he

clung to, for he had a vision of tall headlines in the New York papers, and well knew no son of Merton

Sargent could expect mercy that side the water. The guard, to Wilton's amazement, refused the money on the

grounds that this was a matter for the Company to attend to. Wilton insisted on his incognito, and, therefore,

found two policemen waiting for him at St. Botolph terminus. When he expressed a wish to buy a new hat

and telegraph to his friends, both policemen with one voice warned him that whatever he said would be used

"They were so infernally polite," he said. "If they had clubbed me I wouldn't have cared; but it was, 'Step this

way, sir,' and, 'Up those stairs, please, sir,' till they jailed me jailed me like a common drunk, and I had to

"That comes of not giving your name and not wiring your lawyer," I replied. "What did you get?"

"Forty shillings, or a month," said Wilton, promptly, "next morning bright and early. They were working us

off, three a minute. A girl in a pink hat she was brought in at three in the morning got ten days. I suppose

I was lucky. I must have knocked his senses out of the guard. He told the old duck on the bench that I had

told him I was a sergeant in the army, and that I was gathering beetles on the track. That comes of trying to

"Oh, I said nothing. I wanted to get out. I paid my fine, and bought a new hat, and came up here before noon

next morning. There were a lot of people in the house, and I told ' em I'd been unavoidably detained, and then

they began to recollect engagements elsewhere. Hackman must have seen the fight on the track and made a

story of it. I suppose they thought it was distinctly American confound 'em! It's the only time in my life that

I've ever flagged a train, and I wouldn't have done it but for that scarab. 'T wouldn't hurt their old trains to be

"Well, it's all over now," I said, choking a little. "And your name didn't get into the papers. It is rather

"Over!" Wilton grunted savagely. "It's only just begun. That trouble with the guard was just common,

ordinary assault merely a little criminal business. The flagging of the train is civil, infernally civil, and

"The Great Buchonian. There was a man in court watching the case on behalf of the Company. I gave him my

name in a quiet corner before I bought my hat, and come to dinner now; I'll show you the results

afterwards." The telling of his wrongs had worked Wilton Sargent into a very fine temper, and I do not think

that my conversation soothed him. In the course of the dinner, prompted by a devil of pure mischief, I dwelt

with loving insistence on certain smells and sounds of New York which go straight to the heart of the native

in foreign parts; and Wilton began to ask many questions about his associates aforetime men of the New

York Yacht Club, Storm King, or the Restigouche, owners of rivers, ranches, and shipping in their playtime,

lords of railways, kerosene, wheat, and cattle in their offices. When the green mint came, I gave him a

peculiarly oily and atrocious cigar, of the brand they sell in the tessellated, electriclighted, with

expensivepicturesofthenude adorned bar of the Pandemonium, and Wilton chewed the end for several

minutes ere he lit it. The butler left us alone, and the chimney of the oakpanelled diningroom began to

"That's another!" said he, poking the fire savagely, and I knew what he meant. One cannot put steamheat in

houses where Queen Elizabeth slept. The steady beat of a nightmail, whirling down the valley, recalled me

It was a pile of Seidlitzpowderscoloured correspondence, perhaps nine inches high, and it looked very

"You can go through it," said Wilton. "Now I could take a chair and a red flag and go into Hyde Park and say

the most atrocious things about your Queen, and preach anarchy and all that, y' know, till I was hoarse, and

no one would take any notice. The Police damn 'em! would protect me if I got into trouble. But for a little

thing like flagging a dirty little sawedoff train, running through my own grounds, too, I get the whole

"No more does the Great Buchonian apparently." I was turning over the letters. "Here's the traffic

superintendent writing that it's utterly incomprehensible that any man should ... Good heavens, Wilton, you

"I ought to know that! They all had their knife into me, from the enginedriver up."

"But it's the threeforty the Induna surely you've heard of the Great Buchonian's Induna!"

"How the deuce am I to know one train from another? They come along about every two minutes."

"Quite so. But this happens to be the Induna the one train of the whole line. She's timed for fiftyseven

miles an hour. She was put on early in the Sixties, and she has never been stopped "

"I know! Since William the Conqueror came over, or King Charles hid in her smokestack. You're as bad as

the rest of these Britishers. If she's been run all that while, it's time she was flagged once or twice."

The American was beginning to ooze out all over Wilton, and his smallboned hands were moving restlessly.

"Suppose I did. I know Otis Harvey or used to. I'd send him a wire, and he'd understand it was a

groundhog case with me. That's exactly what I told this British fossil company here."

"I wrote 'em that I'd be very happy to see their president and explain to him in three words all about it; but

that wouldn't do. 'Seems their president must be a god. He was too busy, and well, you can read for yourself

they wanted explanations. The stationmaster at Amberley Royal and he grovels before me, as a rule

wanted an explanation, and quick, too. The head sachem at St. Botolph's wanted three or four, and the Lord

High Mukkamuk that oils the locomotives wanted one every fine day. I told 'em I've told hem about fifty

times I stopped their holy and sacred train because I wanted to board her. Did they think I wanted to feel

"My dear Wilton, what is the use of Mrs. Sherborne, and the Clays, and all that lot working over you for four

years to make an Englishman out of you, if the very first time you're rattled you go back to the vernacular?"

"I'm through with Mrs. Sherborne and the rest of the crowd. America's good enough for me. What ought I to

There was no chance now of mistaking the man's nationality. Speech, gesture, and step, so carefully drilled

into him, had gone away with the borrowed mask of indifference. It was a lawful son of the Youngest People,

whose predecessors were the Red Indian. His voice had risen to the high, throaty crow of his breed when they

labour under excitement. His closeset eyes showed by turns unnecessary fear, annoyance beyond reason,

rapid and purposeless flights of thought, the child's lust for immediate revenge, and the child's pathetic

bewilderment, who knocks his head against the bad, wicked table. And on the other side, I knew, stood the

"And I could buy their old road three times over," he muttered, playing with a paperknife, and moving

There was no answer; but as I went through the letters, I felt that Wilton must have told them many surprising

things. The Great Buchonian had first asked for an explanation of the stoppage of their Induna, and had found

a certain levity in the explanation tendered. It then advised " Mr. W. Sargent" to refer his solicitor to their

"No. They were treating me exactly as if I had been a kid playing on the cabletracks. There was not the least

necessity for any solicitor. Five minutes' quiet talk would have settled everything."

I returned to the correspondence. The Great Buchonian regretted that, owing to pressure of business, none of

their directors could accept Mr. W. Sargent's invitation to run down and discuss the difficulty. The Great

Buchonian was careful to point out that no animus underlay their action, nor was money their object. Their

duty was to protect the interests of their line, and these interests could not be protected if a precedent were

established whereby any of the Queen's subjects could stop a train in midcareer. Again (this was another

branch of the correspondence, not more than five heads of departments being concerned), the Company

admitted that there was some reasonable doubt as to the duties of expresstrains in all crises, and the matter

was open to settlement by process of law till an authoritative ruling was obtained from the House of Lords,

"That broke me all up," said Wilton, who was reading over my shoulder. "I knew I'd struck the British

Constitution at last. The House of Lords my Lord! And, anyway, I'm not one of the Queen's subjects."

Wilton blushed hotly as he explained that very many things must happen to the British Constitution ere he

"I don't know. You've done something that no one ever thought of doing before, and the Company don't know

what to make of it. I see they offer to send down their solicitor and another official of the Company to talk

things over informally. Then here's another letter suggesting that you put up a fourteenfoot wall, crowned

"Talk of British insolence! The man who recommends that (he's another bloated functionary) says that I shall

'derive great pleasure from watching the wall going up day by day'! Did you ever dream of such gall? I've

offered 'em money enough to buy a new set of cars and pension the driver for three generations; but that

doesn't seem to be what they want. They expect me to go to the House of Lords and get a ruling, and build

walls between times. Are they all stark, raving mad? One 'ud think I made a profession of flagging trains.

How in Tophet was I to know their old Induna from a waytrain? I took the first that came along, and I've been

"Their lawyer and the other official (can't they trust their men unless they send 'em in pairs?) are coming

heretonight. I told 'em I was busy, as a rule, till after dinner, but they might send along the entire directorate

Now, afterdinner visiting, for business or pleasure, is the custom of the smaller American town, and not that

of England, where the end of the day is sacred to the owner, not the public. Verily, Wilton Sargent had

"Isn't it time that the humour of the situation began to strike you, Wilton?" I asked.

"Where's the humour of baiting an American citizen just because he happens to be a millionaire poor

devil." He was silent for a little time, and then went on: "Of course. Now I see!" He spun round and faced me

excitedly. "It's as plain as mud. These ducks are laying their pipes to skin me."

"That's all a blind. So's their addressing me as W. Sargent. They know well enough who I am. They know I'm

"One minute, Wilton. If you climbed to the top of the dome of St. Paul's and offered a reward to any

Englishman who could tell you who or what Merton Sargent had been, there wouldn't be twenty men in all

"That's their insular provincialism, then. I don't care a cent. The old man would have wrecked the Great

Buchonian before breakfast for a pipeopener. My God, I'll do it in dead earnest! I'll show 'em that they can't

bulldoze a foreigner for flagging one of their little tinpot trains, and I've spent fifty thousand a year here, at

I was glad I was not his lawyer. I reread the correspondence, notably the letter which recommended him

almost tenderly, I fancied to build a fourteenfoot brick wall at the end of his garden, and halfway

The footman ushered in two men, frockcoated, greytrousered, smoothshaven, heavy of speech and gait. It

was nearly nine o'clock, but they looked as newly come from a bath. I could not understand why the elder and

taller of the pair glanced at me as though we had an understanding; nor why he shook hands with an

"This simplifies the situation," he said in an undertone, and, as I stared, he whispered to his companion: "I

fear I shall be of very little service at present. Perhaps Mr. Folsom had better talk over the affair with Mr.

The man of law smiled pleasantly, and said that he saw no reason why the difficulty should not be arranged in

two minutes' quiet talk. His air, as he sat down opposite Wilton, was soothing to the last degree, and his

companion drew me upstage. The mystery was deepening, but I followed meekly, and heard Wilton say,

"I've had insomnia over this affair, Mr. Folsom. Let's settle it one way or the other, for heaven's sake!"

"Ah! Has he suffered much from this lately?" said my man, with a preliminary cough.

"Now, I am asking solely for information's sake, do you find the delusions persistent?"

"They are variable, then? That is distinctly curious, because but do I understand that the type of the

delusion varies? For example, Mr. Sargent believes that he can buy the Great Buchonian."

"He made the offer to the Company on a halfsheet of notepaper. Now, has he by chance gone to the

other extreme, and believed that he is in danger of becoming a pauper? The curious economy in the use of a

halfsheet of paper shows that some idea of that kind might have flashed through his mind, and the two

delusions can coexist, but it is not common. As you must know, the delusion of vast wealth the folly of

grandeurs, I believe our friends the French call it is, as a rule, persistent, to the exclusion of all others."

"My dear sir, I have explained twenty times already, I wanted to get that scarab in time for dinner. Suppose

"That touch of cunning is very significant," my fellowpractitioner since he insisted on it muttered.

"I am very happy, of course, to meet you; but if you had only sent your president down to dinner here, I could

have settled the thing in half a minute. Why, I could have bought the Buchonian from him while your clerks

were sending me this." Wilton dropped his hand heavily on the blueandwhite correspondence, and the

"But, speaking frankly," the lawyer replied, "it is, if I may say so, perfectly inconceivable, even in the case of

the most important legal documents, that any one should stop the threeforty express the Induna Our

"Absolutely!" my companion echoed; then to me in a lower tone: "You notice, again, the persistent delusion

of wealth. I was called in when he wrote us that. You can see it is utterly impossible for the Company to

continue to run their trains through the property of a man who may at any moment fancy himself divinely

commissioned to stop all traffic. If he had only referred us to his lawyer but, naturally, that he would not

do, under the circumstances. A pity a great pity. He is so young. By the way, it is curious, is it not, to note

the absolute conviction in the voice of those who are similarly afflicted, heartrending, I might say, and the

"It need not be more than fourteen feet high a really desirable structure, and it would be possible to grow

pear trees on the sunny side." The lawyer was speaking in an unprofessional voice. "There are few things

pleasanter than to watch, so to say, one's own vine and fig tree in full bearing. Consider the profit and

amusement you would derive from it. If you could see your way to doing this, we could arrange all the details

with your lawyer, and it is possible that the Company might bear some of the cost. I have put the matter, I

trust, in a nutshell. If you, my dear sir, will interest yourself in building that wall, and will kindly give us the

name of your lawyers, I dare assure you that you will hear no more from the Great Buchonian."

"Grey flint, then, if you put it that way. Why the dickens must I go building towers of Babylon just because I

"The expression he used in his third letter was that he wished to 'board her,'" said my companion in my ear.

"That was very curious a marine delusion impinging, as it were, upon a land one. What a marvellous world

he must move in and will before the curtain falls. So young, too so very young!"

"Well, if you want the plain English of it, I'm damned if I go wallbuilding to your orders. You can fight it all

along the line, into the House of Lords and out again, and get your rulings by the running foot if you like,"

"We have at present no guarantee that you may not do it again; and, with our traffic, we must, in justice to

our passengers, demand some form of guarantee. It must not serve as a precedent. All this might have been

saved if you had only referred us to your legal representative." The lawyer looked appealingly around the

"Anything you like," said Wilton. "It seems I can't talk English. I won't build any wall, though." He threw

" Gentlemen," I said deliberately, for I perceived that the doctor's mind would turn slowly, "Mr. Sargent has

"Certainly. He inherited them from his father, Mr. Sargent, who was an American."

"And proud of it," said Wilton, as though he had been a Western Senator let loose on the Continent for the

"My dear sir," said the lawyer, half rising, "why did you not acquaint the Company with this fact this vital

fact early in our correspondence? We should have understood. We should have made allowances."

"If Mr. Sargent's friend had told us as much in the beginning," said the doctor, very severely, "much might

"I hadn't a chance," I replied. "Now, of course, you can see that a man who owns several thousand miles of

line, as Mr. Sargent does, would be apt to treat railways a shade more casually than other people."

"Of course; of course. He is an American; that accounts. Still, it was the Induna; but I can quite understand

that the customs of our cousins across the water differ in these particulars from ours. And do you always stop

"I should if occasion ever arose; but I've never had to yet. Are you going to make an international

"You need give yourself no further concern whatever in the matter. We see that there is no likelihood of this

action of yours establishing a precedent, which was the only thing we were afraid of. Now that you

understand that we cannot reconcile our system to any sudden stoppages, we feel quite sure that "

"I sha'n't be staying long enough to flag another train," Wilton said pensively.

"You are returning, then, to our fellowkinsmen across theahbig pond, you call it?"

"No, sir. The ocean the North Atlantic Ocean. It's three thousand miles broad, and three miles deep in

"I am not so fond of seatravel myself; but I think it is every Englishman's duty once in his life to study the

"If ever you come over, and care to flag any train on my system, I'll I'll see you through," said Wilton.

"Thank you ah, thank you. You're very kind. I'm sure I should enjoy myself immensely."

"We have overlooked the fact," the doctor whispered to me, "that your friend proposed to buy the Great

"He is worth anything from twenty to thirty million dollars four to five million pounds," I answered,

"Really! That is enormous wealth. But the Great Buchonian is not in the market."

"How characteristic!" murmured the lawyer, reviewing matters in his mind. "I always understood from books

that your countrymen were in a hurry. And so you would have gone forty miles to town and back before

dinner to get a scarab? How intensely American! But you talk exactly like an Englishman, Mr. Sargent."

"That is a fault that can be remedied. There's only one question I'd like to ask you. You said it was

The two men departed. Wilton checked himself as he was about to fill a pipe, took one of my cigars instead,

Far away from the greystone wings, the dark cedars, the faultless gravel drives, and the mintsauce lawns of

Holt Hangars runs a river called the Hudson, whose unkempt banks are covered with the palaces of those

wealthy beyond the dreams of avarice. Here, where the hoot of the Haverstraw brickbargetug answers the

howl of the locomotive on either shore, you shall find, with a complete installation of electric light,

nickelplated binnacles, and a calliope attachment to her steamwhistle, the twelvehundredton

oceangoing steamyacht Columbia, lying at her private pier, to take to his office, at an average speed of

seventeen knots an hour, and the barges can look out for themselves, Wilton Sargent, American.

It was the unreproducible slid r, as he said this was his "fyist" visit to England, that told me he was a

NewYorker from New York; and when, in the course of our long, lazy journey westward from Waterloo, he

enlarged upon the beauties of his city, I, professing ignorance, said no word. He had, amazed and delighted at

the man's civility, given the London porter a shilling for carrying his bag nearly fifty yards; he had

thoroughly investigated the firstclass lavatory compartment, which the London and Southwestern

sometimes supply without extra charge; and now, halfawed, halfcontemptuous, but wholly interested, he

looked out upon the ordered English landscape wrapped in its Sunday peace, while I watched the wonder

grow upon his face. Why were the cars so short and stilted? Why had every other freightcar a tarpaulin

drawn over it? What wages would an engineer get now? Where was the swarming population of England he

had read so much about? What was the rank of all those men on tricycles along the roads? When were we due

at Plymouth I told him all I knew, and very much that I did not. He was going to Plymouth to assist in a

consultation upon a fellowcountryman who had retired to a place called The Hoe was that uptown or

downtown to recover from nervous dyspepsia. Yes, he himself was a doctor by profession, and how any

one in England could retain any nervous disorder passed his comprehension. Never had he dreamed of an

atmosphere so soothing. Even the deep rumble of London traffic was monastical by comparison with some

cities he could name; and the country why, it was Paradise. A continuance of it, he confessed, would drive

him mad; but for a few months it was the most sumptuous restcure in his knowledge.

"I'll come over every year after this," he said, in a burst of delight, as we ran between two tenfoot hedges of

pink and white may. "It's seeing all the things I've ever read about. Of course it doesn't strike you that way. I

presume you belong here? What a finished land it is! It's arrived. 'Must have been born this way. Now, where

The train stopped in a blaze of sunshine at Framlynghame Admiral, which is made up entirely of the

nameboard, two platforms, and an overhead bridge, without even the usual siding. I had never known the

slowest of locals stop here before; but on Sunday all things are possible to the London and Southwestern.

One could hear the drone of conversation along the carriages, and, scarcely less loud, the drone of the

bumblebees in the wallflowers up the bank. My companion thrust his head through the window and sniffed

"Ah! A man ought to be able to write novels with his left hand in a country like this. Well, well! And so this

is about Tess's country, ain't it? I feel just as if I were in a book. Say, the conduc the guard has something

The splendid badged and belted guard was striding up the platform at the regulation official pace, and in the

"Has any gentleman here a bottle of medicine? A gentleman has taken a bottle of poison (laudanum) by

Between each five paces he looked at an official telegram in his hand, refreshed his memory, and said his say.

The dreamy look on my companion's face he had gone far away with Tess passed with the speed of a

snapshutter. After the manner of his countrymen, he had risen to the situation, jerked his bag down from the

overhead rail, opened it, and I heard the click of bottles. "Find out where the man is," he said briefly. "I've got

Swiftly I fled up the line of carriages in the wake of the guard. There was clamour in a rear compartment

the voice of one bellowing to be let out, and the feet of one who kicked. With the tail of my eye I saw the

New York doctor hastening thither, bearing in his hand a blue and brimming glass from the lavatory

compartment. The guard I found scratching his head unofficially, by the engine, and murmuring: "Well, I put

"Better say it again, any'ow',' said the driver. "Orders is orders. Say it again."

Once more the guard paced back, I, anxious to attract his attention, trotting at his heels.

"In a minute in a minute, sir," he said, waving an arm capable of starting all the traffic on the London and

Southwestern Railway at a wave. "Has any gentleman here got a bottle of medicine? A gentleman has taken a

"Woking. 'Ere's my orders." He showed me the telegram, on which were the words to be said. "'E must have

left 'is bottle in the train, an' took another by mistake. 'E's been wirin' from Woking awful, an', now I come to

"Lord, no, sir. No one didn't take poison that way. 'E took it away with 'im, in 'is 'ands. 'E's wirin' from

Wokin'. My orders was to ask everybody in the train, and I 'ave, an' we're four minutes late now. Are you

There is nothing, unless, perhaps, the English language, more terrible than the workings of an English

railwayline. An instant before it seemed as though we were going to spend all eternity at Framlynghame

Admiral, and now I was watching the tail of the train disappear round the curve of the cutting.

But I was not alone. On the one bench of the down platform sat the largest navvy I have ever seen in my life,

softened and made affable (for he smiled generously) with liquor. In his huge hands he nursed an empty

tumbler marked "L.S.W.R." marked also, internally, with streaks of bluegrey sediment. Before him, a

hand on his shoulder, stood the doctor, and as I came within earshot, this is what I heard him say: "Just you

hold on to your patience for a minute or two longer, and you'll be as right as ever you were in your life. I'll

Turning to me, the doctor lowered his voice. "He might have died while that fool conductguard was saying

his piece. I've fixed him, though. The stuff's due in about five minutes, but there's a heap to him. I don't see

For the moment I felt as though seven pounds of crushed ice had been neatly applied in the form of a

"I asked him if he'd have a drink. He was knocking spots out of the car strength of his constitution, I

suppose. He said he'd go 'most anywhere for a drink, so I lured onto the platform, and loaded him up.

'Coldblooded people, you Britishers are. That train's gone, and no one seemed to care a cent."

We'll get another before sundown, if that's your only trouble. Say, porter, when's the next train down?"

"Seven fortyfive," said the one porter, and passed out through the wicketgate into the landscape. It was

then threetwenty of a hot and sleepy afternoon. The station was absolutely deserted. The navvy had closed

"That's bad," said the doctor. "The man, I mean, not the train. We must make him walk somehowwalk up and

Swiftly as might be, I explained the delicacy of the situation, and the doctor from New York turned a full

bronzegreen. Then he swore comprehensively at the entire fabric of our glorious Constitution, cursing the

English language, root, branch, and paradigm, through its most obscure derivatives. His coat and bag lay on

the bench next to the sleeper. Thither he edged cautiously, and I saw treachery in his eye.

What devil of delay possessed him to slip on his spring overcoat, I cannot tell. They say a slight noise rouses

a sleeper more surely than a heavy one, and scarcely had the doctor settled himself in his sleeves than the

giant waked and seized that silkfaced collar in a hot right hand. There was rage in his facerage and the

"I'm I'm not so comfortable as I were," he said from the deeps of his interior. "You'll wait along o' me, you

Now, if there was one thing more than another upon which the doctor had dwelt in his conversation with me,

it was upon the essential lawabidingness, not to say gentleness, of his muchmisrepresented country. And

yet (truly, it may have been no more than a button that irked him) I saw his hand travel backwards to his right

"He won't kill you," I said. "He'll probably sue you in court, if I know my own people. Better give him some

"If he keeps quiet till the stuff gets in its work," the doctor answered, "I'm all right. If he doesn't ... my name

The matter seemed to be so purely personal that I withdrew to a strategic position on the overhead bridge,

I could see the white road that ran across the shoulder of Salisbury Plain, unshaded for mile after mile, and a

dot in the middle distance, the back of the one porter returning to Framlynghame Admiral, if such a place

existed, till seven fortyfive. The bell of a church invisible clanked softly. There was a rustle in the

The peace of Nirvana lay upon the land, and, brooding in it, my elbow on the warm iron girder of the

footbridge (it is a fortyshilling fine to cross by any other means), I perceived, as never before, how the

consequences of our acts run eternal through time and through space. If we impinge never so slightly upon

the life of a fellowmortal, the touch of our personality, like the ripple of a stone cast into a pond, widens and

widens in unending circles across the aeons, till the faroff Gods themselves cannot say where action ceases.

Also, it was I who had silently set before the doctor the tumbler of the firstclass lavatory compartment now

speeding Plymouthward. Yet I was, in spirit at least, a million leagues removed from that unhappy man of

another nationality, who had chosen to thrust an inexpert finger into the workings of an alien life. The

machinery was dragging him up and down the sunlit platform. The two men seemed to be learning

polkamazurkas together, and the burden of their song, borne by one deep voice, was: "What did you give

I saw the flash of silver in the doctor's hand. The navvy took it and pocketed it with his left; but never for an

instant did his strong right leave the doctor's coatcollar, and as the crisis approached, louder and louder rose

They drifted under the great twelveinch pinned timbers of the footbridge towards the bench, and, I

gathered, the time was very near at hand. The stuff was getting in its work. Blue, white, and blue again, rolled

over the navvy's face in waves, till all settled to one rich claybank yellow and that fell which fell.

I thought of the blowing up of Hell Gate; of the geysers in the Yellowstone Park; of Jonah and his whale: but

the lively original, as I watched it foreshortened from above, exceeded all these things. He staggered to the

bench, the heavy wooden seat cramped with iron cramps into the enduring stone, and clung there with his left

hand. It quivered and shook, as a breakwaterpile quivers to the rush of landwardracing seas; nor was there

lacking when he caught his breath, the "scream of a maddened beach dragged down by the tide." His right

hand was upon the doctor's collar, so that the two shook to one paroxysm, pendulums vibrating together,

It was colossalimmense; but of certain manifestations the English language stops short. French only, the

caryatid French of Victor Hugo, would have described it; so I mourned while I laughed, hastily shuffling and

discarding inadequate adjectives. The vehemence of the shock spent itself, and the sufferer half fell, half

knelt, across the bench. He was calling now upon God and his wife, huskily, as the wounded bull calls upon

the unscathed herd to stay. Curiously enough, he used no bad language: that had gone from him with the rest.

The doctor exhibited gold. It was taken and retained. So, too, was the grip on the coatcollar.

"If I could stand," boomed the giant, despairingly, "I'd smash you you an' your drinks. I'm dyin' dyin'

"That's what you think," said the doctor. "You'll find it will do you a lot of good"; and, making a virtue of a

somewhat imperative necessity, he added: "I'll stay by you. If you'd let go of me a minute I'd give you

"You've settled me now, you damned anarchist. Takin' the bread out of the mouth of an English workin'man!

But I'll keep 'old of you till I'm well or dead. I never did you no 'arm. S'pose I were a little full. They pumped

me out once at Guy's with a stummickpump. I could see that, but I can't see this 'ere, an' it's killin' of me by

"You'll be all right in halfanhour. What do you suppose I'd want to kill you for?" said the doctor, who

"'Ow do I know? Tell 'em in court. You'll get seven years for this, you bodysnatcher. That's what you are

a bloomin' bodysnatcher. There's justice, I tell you, in England; and my Union'll prosecute, too. We don't

stand no tricks with people's insides 'ere. They give a woman ten years for a sight less than this. An' you'll

'ave to pay 'undreds an' 'undreds o' pounds, besides a pension to the missus. You'll see, you physickin'

Then I observed what I have frequently observed before, that a man who is but reasonably afraid of an

altercation with an alien has a most poignant dread of the operations of foreign law. The doctor's voice was

"An' what's three pound for poisonin' the likes o' me? They told me at Guy's I'd fetch twentycoldon the

A second time he was cut down by the foot, as it were, and the straining bench rocked to and fro as I averted

It was the very point of perfection in the heart of an English Mayday. The unseen tides of the air had turned,

and all nature was setting its face with the shadows of the horsechestnuts towards the peace of the coming

night. But there were hours yet, I knew long, long hours of the eternal English twilight to the ending of

the day. I was well content to be alive to abandon myself to the drift of Time and Fate; to absorb great

peace through my skin, and to love my country with the devotion that three thousand miles of intervening sea

bring to fullest flower. And what a garden of Eden it was, this fatted, clipped, and washen land! A man could

camp in any open field with more sense of home and security than the stateliest buildings of foreign cities

could afford. And the joy was that it was all mine alienably groomed hedgerow, spotless road, decent

greystone cottage, serried spinney, tasselled copse, applebellied hawthorn, and wellgrown tree. A light

puff of wind it scattered flakes of may over the gleaming rails gave me a faint whiff as it might have been

of fresh cocoanut, and I knew that the golden gorse was in bloom somewhere out of sight. Linneeus had

thanked God on his bended knees when he first saw a field of it; and, by the way, the navvy was on his knees,

The doctor was compelled to bend over him, his face towards the back of the seat, and from what I had seen I

supposed the navvy was now dead. If that were the case it would be time for me to go; but I knew that so long

as a man trusts himself to the current of Circumstance, reaching out for and rejecting nothing that comes his

way, no harm can overtake him. It is the contriver, the schemer, who is caught by the Law, and never the

philosopher. I knew that when the play was played, Destiny herself would move me on from the corpse; and I

In the far distance, presumably upon the road that led to Framlynghame Admiral, there appeared a vehicle

and a horse the one ancient fly that almost every village can produce at need. This thing was advancing,

unpaid by me, towards the station; would have to pass along the deepcut lane, below the railwaybridge,

and come out on the doctor's side. I was in the centre of things, so all sides were alike to me. Here, then, was

my machine from the machine. When it arrived; something would happen, or something else. For the rest, I

The doctor, by the seat, turned so far as his cramped position allowed, his head over his left shoulder, and laid

his right hand upon his lips. I threw back my hat and elevated my eyebrows in the form of a question. The

doctor shut his eyes and nodded his head slowly twice or thrice, beckoning me to come. I descended

cautiously, and it was as the signs had told. The navvy was asleep, empty to the lowest notch; yet his hand

clutched still the doctor's collar, and at the lightest movement (the doctor was really very cramped) tightened

mechanically, as the hand of a sick woman tightens on that of the watcher. He had dropped, squatting almost

The doctor thrust his right hand, which was free, into his pocket, drew forth some keys, and shook his head.

The navvy gurgled in his sleep. Silently I dived into my pocket, took out one sovereign, and held it up

between finger and thumb. Again the doctor shook his head. Money was not what was lacking to his peace.

His bag had fallen from the seat to the ground. He looked towards it, and opened his mouthOshape. The

catch was not a difficult one, and when I had mastered it, the doctor's right forefinger was sawing the air.

With an immense caution, I extracted from the bag such a knife as they use for cutting collops off legs. The

doctor frowned, and with his first and second fingers imitated the action of scissors. Again I searched, and

found a most diabolical pair of cocknosed shears, capable of vandyking the interiors of elephants. The

doctor then slowly lowered his left shoulder till the navvy's right wrist was supported by the bench, pausing a

moment as the spent volcano rumbled anew. Lower and lower the doctor sank, kneeling now by the navvy's

side, till his head was on a level with, and just in front of, the great hairy fist, and there was no tension on

Beginning a little to the right of the spinal column, I cut a huge demilune out of his new spring overcoat,

bringing it round as far under his left side (which was the right side of the navvy) as I dared. Passing thence

swiftly to the back of the seat, and reaching between the splines, I sawed through the silkfaced front on the

Cautiously as the boxturtle of his native heath, the doctor drew away sideways and to the right, with the air

of a frustrated burglar coming out from under a bed, and stood up free, one black diagonal shoulder

projecting through the grey of his ruined overcoat. I returned the scissors to the bag, snapped the catch, and

held all out to him as the wheels of the fly rang hollow under the railway arch.

It came at a footpace past the wicketgate of the station, and the doctor stopped it with a whisper. It was

going some five miles across country to bring home from church some one, I could not catch the name,

because his own carriagehorses were lame. Its destination happened to be the one place in all the world that

the doctor was most burningly anxious to visit, and he promised the driver untold gold to drive to some

Now the fly had been so obviously sent to the doctor, and to no one else, that I had no concern with it. Our

"My God!" he murmured, as softly as he shut the door, and I felt that it was a prayer.

Then he went out of my life, and I shaped my course for the railwaybridge. It was necessary to pass by the

bench once more, but the wicket was between us. The departure of the fly had waked the navvy. He crawled

"The man inside o' that," he called, "'as poisoned me. 'E's a bodysnatcher. 'E's comin' back again when I'm

He waved his share of the overcoat, and I went my way, because I was hungry. Framlynghame Admiral

village is a good two miles from the station, and I waked the holy calm of the evening every step of that way

with shouts and yells, casting myself down in the flank of the good green hedge when I was too weak to

stand. There was an inn, a blessed inn with a thatched roof, and peonies in the garden, and I ordered

myself an upper chamber in which the Foresters held their courts for the laughter was not all out of me. A

bewildered woman brought me ham and eggs, and I leaned out of the mullioned window, and laughed

between mouthfuls. I sat long above the beer and the perfect smoke that followed, till the lights changed in

the quiet street, and I began to think of the seven fortyfive down, and all that world of the "Arabian Nights"

Descending, I passed a giant in moleskins who filled the lowceiled taproom. Many empty plates stood

before him, and beyond them a fringe of the Framlynghame Admiralty, to whom he was unfolding a

wondrous tale of anarchy, of bodysnatching, of bribery, and the Valley of the Shadow from the which he

was but newly risen. And as he talked he ate, and as he ate he drank, for there was much room in him; and

anon he paid royally, speaking of Justice and the Law, before whom all Englishmen are equal, and all

On my way to the station, he passed me with great strides, his head high among the lowflying bats, his feet

firm on the packed roadmetal, his fists clinched, and his breath coming sharply. There was a beautiful smell

in the air the smell of white dust, bruised nettles, and smoke, that brings tears to the throat of a man who

sees his country but seldom a smell like the echoes of the lost talk of lovers; the infinitely suggestive odour

of an immemorial civilisation. It was a perfect walk; and, lingering on every step, I came to the station just as

the one porter lighted the last of a truckload of lamps, and set them back in the lamproom, while he dealt

tickets to four or five of the population who, not contented with their own peace, thought fit to travel. It was

no ticket that the navvy seemed to need. He was sitting on a bench, wrathfully grinding a tumbler into

fragments with his heel. I abode in obscurity at the end of the platform, interested as ever, thank Heaven, in

my surroundings. There was a jar of wheels on the road. The navvy rose as they approached, strode through

the wicket, and laid a hand upon a horse's bridle that brought the beast up on his hireling hind legs. It was the

providential fly coming back, and for a moment I wondered whether the doctor had been mad enough to

"I'm not," said the navvy. "I've been waitin' 'ere hours and hours. Come out, you beggar inside there!"

"All right," said the navvy. "You wouldn't 'ear me when I was polite. Now will you come?"

There was a chasm in the side of the fly, for he had wrenched the door bodily off its hinges, and was feeling

within purposefully. A wellbooted leg rewarded him, and there came out, not with delight, hopping on one

foot, a round and greyhaired Englishman, from whose armpits dropped hymnbooks, but from his mouth an

"Come on, you bloomin' bodysnatcher! You thought I was dead, did you?" roared the navvy. And the

"Ere's a man murderin' the Squire," the driver shouted, and fell from his box upon the navvy's neck.

To do them justice, the people of Framlynghame Admiral, so many as were on the platform, rallied to the call

in the best spirit of feudalism. It was the one porter who beat the navvy on the nose with a ticketpunch, but

it was the three thirdclass tickets who attached themselves to his legs and freed the captive.

"Send for a constable! lock him up! " said that man, adjusting his collar; and unitedly they cast him into the

Till then the navvy, whose only desire was justice, had kept his temper nobly. Then he went Berserk before

our amazed eyes. The door of the lamproom was generously constructed, and would not give an inch, but

the window he tore from its fastenings and hurled outwards. The one porter counted the damage in a loud

voice, and the others, arming themselves with agricultural implements from the station garden, kept up a

ceaseless winnowing before the window, themselves backed close to the wall, and bade the prisoner think of

the gaol. He answered little to the point, so far as they could understand; but seeing that his exit was impeded,

he took a lamp and hurled it through the wrecked sash. It fell on the metals and went out. With inconceivable

velocity, the others, fifteen in all, followed, looking like rockets in the gloom, and with the last (he could

have had no plan) the Berserk rage left him as the doctor's deadly brewage waked up, under the stimulus of

violent exercise and a very full meal, to one last cataclysmal exhibition, and we heard the whistle of the

They were all acutely interested in as much of the wreck as they could see, for the station smelt to Heaven of

oil, and the engine skittered over broken glass like a terrier in a cucumberframe. The guard had to hear of it,

and the Squire had his version of the brutal assault, and heads were out all along the carriages as I found me a

"Well, the symptoms, so far as my observation has gone, more resemble those of Asiatic cholera than

anything else," I answered, slowly and judicially, that every word might carry weight in the appointed

scheme of things. Up till then, you will observe, I had taken no part in that war.

He was an Englishman, but he collected his belongings as swiftly as had the American, ages before, and

And the seven fortyfive carried me on, a step nearer to Eternity, by the road that is worn and seamed and

channelled with the passions, and weaknesses, and warring interests of man who is immortal and master of

A CHILD of three sat up in his crib and screamed at the top of his voice, his fists clinched and his eyes full of

terror. At first no one heard, for his nursery was in the west wing, and the nurse was talking to a gardener

among the laurels. Then the housekeeper passed that way, and hurried to soothe him. He was her special pet,

"What was it, then? What was it, then? There's nothing to frighten him, Georgie dear."

"It was it was a policeman! He was on the Down I saw him! He came in. Jane said he would."

The housekeeper waited till the sobs changed to the regular breathing of sleep before she stole out.

"We met Tisdall on Dowhead when we were in the donkeycart this morning. P'r'aps that's what put it into

"Oh! Now you aren't going to frighten the child into fits with your silly tales, and the master know nothing

A child of six was telling himself stories as he lay in bed. It was a new power, and he kept it a secret. A

month before it had occurred to him to carry on a nursery tale left unfinished by his mother, and he was

delighted to find the tale as it came out of his own head just as surprising as though he were listening to it "all

new from the beginning." There was a prince in that tale, and he killed dragons, but only for one night. Ever

afterwards Georgie dubbed himself prince, pasha, giantkiller, and all the rest (you see, he could not tell any

one, for fear of being laughed at), and his tales faded gradually into dreamland, where adventures were so

many that he could not recall the half of them. They all began in the same way, or, as Georgie explained to

the shadows of the nightlight, there was "the same startingoff place" a pile of brushwood stacked

somewhere near a beach; and round this pile Georgie found himself running races with little boys and girls.

These ended, ships ran high up the dry land and opened into cardboard boxes; or giltandgreen iron railings

that surrounded beautiful gardens turned all soft and could be walked through and overthrown so long as he

remembered it was only a dream. He could never hold that knowledge more than a few seconds ere things

became real, and instead of pushing down houses full of grownup people (a just revenge), he sat miserably

upon gigantic doorsteps trying to sing the multiplicationtable up to four times six.

The princess of his tales was a person of wonderful beauty (she came from the old illustrated edition of

Grimm, now out of print), and as she always applauded Georgie's valour among the dragons and buffaloes, he

gave her the two finest names he had ever heard in his life Annie and Louise, pronounced "Annieanlouise."

When the dreams swamped the stories, she would change into one of the little girls round the

brushwoodpile, still keeping her title and crown. She saw Georgie drown once in a dreamsea by the beach

(it was the day after he had been taken to bathe in a real sea by his nurse); and he said as he sank: "Poor

Annieanlouise! She'll be sorry for me now!" But "Annieanlouise," walking slowly on the beach, called, "'Ha!

ha!' said the duck, laughing," which to a waking mind might not seem to bear on the situation. It consoled

Georgie at once, and must have been some kind of spell, for it raised the bottom of the deep, and he waded

out with a twelveinch flowerpot on each foot. As he was strictly forbidden to meddle with flowerpots in

The movements of the grownups, whom Georgie tolerated, but did not pretend to understand, removed his

world, when he was seven years old, to a place called "Oxfordonavisit. "Here were huge buildings

surrounded by vast prairies, with streets of infinite length, and, above all, something called the "buttery,"

which Georgie was dying to see, because he knew it must be greasy, and therefore delightful. He perceived

how correct were his judgments when his nurse led him through a stone arch into the presence of an

enormously fat man, who asked him if he would like some, bread and cheese. Georgie was used to eat all

round the clock, so he took what "buttery " gave him, and would have taken some brown liquid called

"auditale" but that his nurse led him away to an afternoon performance of a thing called "Pepper's Ghost."

This was intensely thrilling. People's heads came off and flew all over the stage, and skeletons danced bone

by bone, while Mr. Pepper himself, beyond question a man of the worst, waved his arms and flapped a long

gown, and in a deep bass voice (Georgie had never heard a man sing before) told of his sorrows unspeakable.

Some grownup or other tried to explain that the illusion was made with mirrors, and that there was no need

to be frightened. Georgie did not know what illusions were, but he did know that a mirror was the

lookingglass with the ivory handle on his mother's dressingtable. Therefore the "grownup" was "just

saying things" after the distressing custom of "grownups," and Georgie cast about for amusement between

scenes. Next to him sat a little girl dressed all in black, her hair combed off her forehead exactly like the girl

in the book called "Alice in Wonderland, "which had been given him on his last birthday. The little girl

looked at Georgie, and Georgie looked at her. There seemed to be no need of any further introduction.

"I've got a cut on my thumb," said he. It was the first work of his first real knife, a savage triangular hack, and

"There's a diacklum plaster on, but it's all raw under," Georgie answered, complying.

"It lookth very horrid. I'm tho thorry!" She put a forefinger to his hand, and held her head sidewise for a

Here the nurse turned, and shook him severely. "You mustn't talk to strange little girls, Master Georgie."

"She isn't strange. She's very nice. I like her, an' I've showed her my new cut."

She moved him over, and shut out the little girl from his view, while the grownup behind renewed the futile

"I am not afraid, truly," said the boy, wriggling in despair; "but why don't you go to sleep in the afternoons,

Georgie had been introduced to a grownup of that name, who slept in his presence without apology. Georgie

understood that he was the most important grownup in Oxford; hence he strove to gild his rebuke with

flatteries. This grownup did not seem to like it, but he collapsed, and Georgie lay back in his seat, silent and

enraptured. Mr. Pepper was singing again, and the deep, ringing voice, the red fire, and the misty, waving

gown all seemed to be mixed up with the little girl who had been so kind about his cut. When the

performance was ended she nodded to Georgie, and Georgie nodded in return. He spoke no more than was

necessary till bedtime, but meditated on new colors and sounds and lights and music and things as far as he

understood them; the deepmouthed agony of Mr. Pepper mingling with the little girl's lisp. That night he

made a new tale, from which he shamelessly removed the RapunzelRapunzelletdownyourhair

princess, gold crown, Grimm edition, and all, and put a new Annieanlouise in her place. So it was perfectly

right and natural that when he came to the brushwoodpile he should find her waiting for him, her hair

combed off her forehead more like Alice in Wonderland than ever, and the races and adventures began.

Ten years at an English public school do not encourage dreaming. Georgie won his growth and chest

measurement, and a few other things which did not appear in the bills, under a system of cricket, football,

and paperchases, from four to five days a week, which provided for three lawful cuts of a groundash if any

boy absented himself from these entertainments. He became a rumplecollared, dustyhatted fag of the

Lower Third, and a light halfback at Little Side football; was pushed and prodded through the slack

backwaters of the Lower Fourth, where the raffle of a school generally accumulates; won his

"secondfifteen" cap at football, enjoyed the dignity of a study with two companions in it, and began to

look forward to office as a subprefect. At last he blossomed into full glory as head of the school, exofficio

captain of the games; head of his house, where he and his lieutenants preserved discipline and decency

among seventy boys from twelve to seventeen; general arbiter in the quarrels that spring up among the touchy

Sixth and intimate friend and ally of the Head himself. When he stepped forth in the black jersey, white

knickers, and black stockings of the First Fifteen, the new matchball under his arm, and his old and frayed

cap at the back of his head, the small fry of the lower forms stood apart and worshipped, and the "new caps"

of the team talked to him ostentatiously, that the world might see. And so, in summer, when he came back to

the pavilion after a slow but eminently safe game, it mattered not whether he had made nothing or, as once

happened, a hundred and three, the school shouted just the same, and womenfolk who had come to look at

the match looked at Cottar Cottar, major; "that's Cottar!" Above all, he was responsible for that thing called

the tone of the school, and few realise with what passionate devotion a certain type of boy throws himself

into this work. Home was a faraway country, full of ponies and fishing and shooting, and menvisitors who

interfered with one's plans; but school was the real world, where things of vital importance happened, and

crises arose that must be dealt with promptly and quietly. Not for nothing was it written, "Let the Consuls

look to it that the Republic takes no harm," and Georgie was glad to be back in authority when the holidays

ended. Behind him, but not too near, was the wise and temperate Head, now suggesting the wisdom of the

serpent, now counselling the mildness of the dove; leading him on to see, more by halfhints than by any

direct word, how boys and men are all of a piece, and how he who can handle the one will assuredly in time

For the rest, the school was not encouraged to dwell on its emotions, but rather to keep in hard condition, to

avoid false quantities, and to enter the army direct, without the help of the expensive London crammer, under

whose roof young blood learns too much. Cottar, major, went the way of hundreds before him. The Head

gave him six months' final polish, taught him what kind of answers best please a certain kind of examiners,

and handed him over to the properly constituted authorities, who passed him into Sandhurst. Here he had

sense enough to see that he was in the Lower Third once more, and behaved with respect toward his seniors,

till they in turn respected him, and he was promoted to the rank of corporal, and sat in authority over mixed

peoples with all the vices of men and boys combined. His reward was another string of athletic cups, a

goodconduct sword, and, at last, Her Majesty's commission as a subaltern in a firstclass line regiment. He

did not know that he bore with him from school and college a character worth much fine gold, but was

pleased to find his mess so kindly. He had plenty of money of his own; his training had set the public school

mask upon his face, and had taught him how many were the "things no fellow can do." By virtue of the same

The regular working of the Empire shifted his world to India, where he tasted utter loneliness in subaltern's

quarters, one room and one bullocktrunk, and, with his mess, learned the new life from the beginning.

But there were horses in the landponies at reasonable price; there was polo for such as could afford it; there

were the disreputable remnants of a pack of hounds; and Cottar worried his way along without too much

despair. It dawned on him that a regiment in India was nearer the chance of active service than he had

conceived, and that a man might as well study his profession. A major of the new school backed this idea

with enthusiasm, and he and Cottar accumulated a library of military works, and read and argued and

disputed far into the nights. But the adjutant said the old thing: "Get to know your men, young un, and they 'll

follow you anywhere. That's all you want know your men." Cottar thought he knew them fairly well at

cricket and the regimental sports, but he never realised the true inwardness of them till he was sent off with a

detachment of twenty to sit down in a mud fort near a rushing river which was spanned by a bridge of boats.

When the floods came they went forth and hunted strayed pontoons along the banks. Otherwise there was

nothing to do, and the men got drunk, gambled, and quarrelled. They were a sickly crew, for a junior

subaltern is by custom saddled with the worst men. Cottar endured their rioting as long as he could, and then

"I wouldn't blame you for fightin'," said he, "if you only knew how to use your hands; but you don't. Take

these things, and I'll show you." The men appreciated his efforts. Now, instead of blaspheming and swearing

at a comrade, and threatening to shoot him, they could take him apart, and soothe themselves to exhaustion.

As one explained whom Cottar found with a shut eye and a diamondshaped mouth spitting blood through an

embrasure: "We tried it with the gloves, sir, for twenty minutes, and that done us no good, sir. Then we took

off the gloves and tried it that way for another twenty minutes, same as you showed us, sir, an' that done us a

Cottar dared not laugh, but he invited his men to other sports, such as racing across country in shirt and

trousers after a trail of torn paper, and to singlestick in the evenings, till the native population, who had a

lust for sport in every form, wished to know whether the white men understood wrestling. They sent in an

ambassador, who took the soldiers by the neck and threw them about the dust; and the entire command were

all for this new game. They spent money on learning new falls and holds, which was better than buying other

doubtful commodities; and the peasantry grinned five deep round the tournaments.

That detachment, who had gone up in bullockcarts, returned to headquarters at an average rate of thirty

miles a day, fair heelandtoe; no sick, no prisoners, and no court martials pending. They scattered

themselves among their friends, singing the praises of their lieutenant and looking for causes of offense.

"Oh, I sweated the beef off 'em, and then I sweated some muscle on to 'em. It was rather a lark."

"If that's your way of lookin' at it, we can give you all the larks you want. Young Davies isn't feelin' quite fit,

"You needn't bother on Davies's account. We'll give you the sweepin's of the corps, and you can see what you

"Rummy thing," said the adjutant, after Cottar had returned to his wilderness with twenty other devils worse

than the first. "If Cottar only knew it, half the women in the station would give their eyes confound 'em!

"That accounts for Mrs. Elery sayin' I was workin' my nice new boy too hard," said a wing commander.

"Oh, yes; and 'Why doesn't he come to the bandstand in the evenings?' and 'Can't I get him to make up a four

at tennis with the Hammon girls?'" the adjutant snorted. "Look at young Davies makin' an ass of himself over

"No one can accuse young Cottar of runnin' after women, white or black," the major replied thoughtfully.

"Not Cottar. I've only run across one of his muster before a fellow called Ingles, in South Africa. He was

just the same hard trained, athleticsports build of animal. Always kept himself in the pink of condition.

Didn't do him much good, though. 'Shot at Wesselstroom the week before Majuba. Wonder how the young un

Cottar turned up six weeks later, on foot, with his pupils. He never told his experiences, but the men spoke

enthusiastically, and fragments of it leaked back to the colonel through sergeants, batmen, and the like.

There was great jealousy between the first and second detachments, but the men united in adoring Cottar, and

their way of showing it was by sparing him all the trouble that men know how to make for an unloved officer.

He sought popularity as little as he had sought it at school, and therefore it came to him. He favoured no one

not even when the company sloven pulled the company cricketmatch out of the fire with an unexpected

fortythree at the last moment. There was very little getting round him, for he seemed to know by instinct

exactly when and where to head off a malingerer; but he did not forget that the difference between a dazed

and sulky junior of the upper school and a bewildered, browbeaten lump of a private fresh from the depot was

very small indeed. The sergeants, seeing these things, told him secrets generally hid from young officers. His

words were quoted as barrack authority on bets in canteen and at tea; and the veriest shrew of the corps,

bursting with charges against other women who had used the cookingranges out of turn, forbore to speak

when Cottar, as the regulations ordained, asked of a morning if there were "any complaints."

"I'm full o' complaints," said Mrs. Corporal Morrison, "an' I'd kill O'Halloran's fat sow of a wife any day, but

ye know how it is. 'E puts 'is head just inside the door, an' looks down 'is blessed nose so bashful, an' 'e

whispers, 'Any complaints' Ye can't complain after that. I want to kiss him. Some day I think I will.

Heighho! she'll be a lucky woman that gets Young Innocence. See 'im now, girls. Do ye blame me?"

Cottar was cantering across to polo, and he looked a very satisfactory figure of a man as he gave easily to the

first excited bucks of his pony, and slipped over a low mud wall to the practiceground. There were more

than Mrs. Corporal Morrison who felt as she did. But Cottar was busy for eleven hours of the day. He did not

care to have his tennis spoiled by petticoats in the court; and after one long afternoon at a gardenparty, he

explained to his major that this sort of thing was " futile priffle," and the major laughed. Theirs was not a

married mess, except for the colonel's wife, and Cottar stood in awe of the good lady. She said "my

regiment," and the world knows what that means. None the less when they wanted her to give away the prizes

after a shootingmatch, and she refused because one of the prizewinners was married to a girl who had

made a jest of her behind her broad back, the mess ordered Cottar to "tackle her," in his best callingkit. This

"She only wanted to know the facts of the case," he explained. "I just told her, and she saw at once."

"Yees," said the adjutant. "I expect that's what she did. Comin' to the Fusiliers' dance tonight, Galahad?"

"No, thanks. I've got a fight on with the major." The virtuous apprentice sat up till midnight in the major's

quarters, with a stopwatch and a pair of compasses, shifting little painted leadblocks about a fourinch

Then he turned in and slept the sleep of innocence, which is full of healthy dreams. One peculiarity of his

dreams he noticed at the beginning of his second hot weather. Two or three times a month they duplicated or

ran in series. He would find himself sliding into dreamland by the same road a road that ran along a beach

near a pile of brushwood. To the right lay the sea, sometimes at full tide, sometimes withdrawn to the very

horizon; but he knew it for the same sea. By that road he would travel over a swell of rising ground covered

with short, withered grass, into valleys of wonder and unreason. Beyond the ridge, which was crowned with

some sort of streetlamp, anything was possible; but up to the lamp it seemed to him that he knew the road as

well as he knew the paradeground. He learned to look forward to the place; for, once there, he was sure of a

good night's rest, and Indian hot weather can be rather trying. First, shadowy under closing eyelids, would

come the outline of the brushwoodpile; next the white sand of the beachroad, almost overhanging the

black, changeful sea; then the turn inland and uphill to the single light. When he was unrestful for any reason,

he would tell himself how he was sure to get there sure to get there if he shut his eyes and surrendered to

the drift of things. But one night after a foolishly hard hour's polo (the thermometer was 94� in his quarters at

ten o'clock), sleep stood away from him altogether, though he did his best to find the wellknown road, the

point where true sleep began. At last he saw the brushwoodpile, and hurried along to the ridge, for behind

him he felt was the wideawake, sultry world. He reached the lamp in safety, tingling with drowsiness, when

a policeman a common country policeman sprang up before him and touched him on the shoulder ere he

could dive into the dim valley below. He was filled with terror, the hopeless terror of dreams, for the

policeman said, in the awful, distinct voice of dreampeople, "I am Policeman Day coming back from the

City of Sleep. You come with me." Georgie knew it was true that just beyond him in the valley lay the

lights of the City of Sleep, where he would have been sheltered, and that this PolicemanThing had full

power and authority to head him back to miserable wakefulness. He found himself looking at the moonlight

on the wall, dripping with fright; and he never overcame that horror, though he met the Policeman several

But other dreamsperfectly absurd onesfilled him with an incommunicable delight. All those that he

remembered began by the brushwoodpile. For instance, he found a small clockwork steamer (he had noticed

it many nights before) lying by the searoad, and stepped into it, whereupon it moved with surpassing

swiftness over an absolutely level sea. This was glorious, for he felt he was exploring great matters; and it

stopped by a lily carved in stone, which, most naturally, floated on the water. Seeing the lily was labelled

"HongKong," Georgie said: "Of course. This is precisely what I expected HongKong would be like. How

magnificent!" Thousands of miles farther on it halted at yet another stone lily, labelled "Java."; and this,

again, delighted him hugely, because he knew that now he was at the world's end. But the little boat ran on

and on till it lay in a deep freshwater lock, the sides of which were carven marble, green with moss.

Lilypads lay on the water, and reeds arched above. Some one moved among the reeds some one whom

Georgie knew he had travelled to this world's end to reach. Therefore everything was entirely well with him.

He was unspeakably happy, and vaulted over the ship's side to find this person. When his feet touched that

still water, it changed, with the rustle of unrolling maps, to nothing less than a sixth quarter of the globe,

beyond the most remote imagining of man a place where islands were coloured yellow and blue, their

lettering strung across their faces. They gave on unknown seas, and Georgie's urgent desire was to return

swiftly across this floating atlas to known bearings. He told himself repeatedly that it was no good to hurry;

but still he hurried desperately, and the islands slipped and slid under his feet; the straits yawned and

widened, till he found himself utterly lost in the world's fourth dimension, with no hope of return. Yet only a

little distance away he could see the old world with the rivers and mountainchains marked according to the

Sandhurst rules of mapmaking. Then that person for whom he had come to the Lily Lock (that was its name)

ran up across unexplored territories, and showed him away. They fled hand in hand till they reached a road

that spanned ravines, and ran along the edge of precipices, and was tunnelled through mountains. "This goes

to our brushwoodpile," said his companion; and all his trouble was at an end. He took a pony, because he

understood that this was the ThirtyMile Ride and he must ride swiftly, and raced through the clattering

tunnels and round the curves, always downhill, till he heard the sea to his left, and saw it raging under a full

moon, against sandy cliffs. It was heavy going, but he recognised the nature of the country, the darkpurple

downs inland, and the bents that whistled in the wind. The road was eaten away in places, and the sea lashed

at himblack, foamless tongues of smooth and glossy rollers; but he was sure that there was less danger from

the sea than from "Them," whoever "They" were, inland to his right. He knew, too, that he would be safe if

he could reach the down with the lamp on it. This came as he expected: he saw the one light a mile ahead

along the beach, dismounted, turned to the right, walked quietly over to the brushwoodpile, found the little

steamer had returned to the beach whence he had unmoored it, and must have fallen asleep, for he could

remember no more. "I'm gettin' the hang of the geography of that place," he said to himself, as he shaved next

morning. "I must have made some sort of circle. Let's see. The ThirtyMile Ride (now how the deuce did I

know it was called the ThirtyMile, Ride?) joins the searoad beyond the first down where the lamp is. And

that atlascountry lies at the back of the ThirtyMile Ride, somewhere out to the right beyond the hills and

He continued on his solid way through the recurring duties of the seasons. The regiment was shifted to

another station, and he enjoyed roadmarching for two months, with a good deal of mixed shooting thrown

in, and when they reached their new cantonments he became a member of the local Tent Club, and chased the

mighty boar on horseback with a short stabbingspear. There he met the mahseer of the Poonch, beside

whom the tarpon is as a herring, and he who lands him can say that he is a fisherman. This was as new and as

fascinating as the biggame shooting that fell to his portion, when he had himself photographed for the

Then the adjutant was promoted, and Cottar rejoiced with him, for he admired the adjutant greatly, and

marvelled who might be big enough to fill his place; so that he nearly collapsed when the mantle fell on his

own shoulders, and the colonel said a few sweet things that made him blush. An adjutant's position does not

differ materially from that of head of the school, and Cottar stood in the same relation to the colonel as he had

to his old Head in England. Only, tempers wear out in hot weather, and things were said and done that tried

him sorely, and he made glorious blunders, from which the regimental sergeantmajor pulled him with a

loyal soul and a shut mouth. Slovens and incompetents raged against him; the weakminded strove to lure

him from the ways of justice; the smallminded yea, men whom Cottar believed would never do "things no

fellow can do" imputed motives mean and circuitous to actions that he had not spent a thought upon; and he

tasted injustice, and it made him very sick. But his consolation came on parade, when he looked down the full

companies, and reflected how few were in hospital or cells, and wondered when the time would come to try

But they needed and expected the whole of a man's workingday, and maybe three or four hours of the night.

Curiously enough, he never dreamed about the regiment as he was popularly supposed to. The mind, set free

from the day's doings, generally ceased working altogether, or, if it moved at all, carried him along the old

beachroad to the downs, the lamppost, and, once in a while, to terrible Policeman Day. The second time

that he returned to the world's lost continent (this was a dream that repeated itself again and again, with

variations, on the same ground) he knew that if he only sat still the person from the Lily Lock would help

him, and he was not disappointed. Sometimes he was trapped in mines of vast depth hollowed out of the heart

of the world, where men in torment chanted echoing songs; and he heard this person coming along through

the galleries, and everything was made safe and delightful. They met again in lowroofed Indian

railwaycarriages that halted in a garden surrounded by giltandgreen railings, where a mob of stony white

people, all unfriendly, sat at breakfasttables covered with roses, and separated Georgie from his companion,

while underground voices sang deepvoiced songs. Georgie was filled with enormous despair till they two

met again. They foregathered in the middle of an endless, hot tropic night, and crept into a huge house that

stood, he knew, somewhere north of the railwaystation where the people ate among the roses. It was

surrounded with gardens, all moist and dripping; and in one room, reached through leagues of whitewashed

passages, a Sick Thing lay in bed. Now the least noise, Georgie knew, would unchain some waiting horror,

and his companion knew it, too; but when their eyes met across the bed, Georgie was disgusted to see that she

was a child a little girl in strapped shoes, with her black hair combed back from her forehead.

"What disgraceful folly!" he thought. "Now she could do nothing whatever if Its head came off."

Then the Thing coughed, and the ceiling shattered down in plaster on the mosquitonetting, and "They"

rushed in from all quarters. He dragged the child through the stifling garden, voices chanting behind them,

and they rode the ThirtyMile Ride under whip and spur along the sandy beach by the booming sea, till they

came to the downs, the lamppost, and the brushwoodpile, which was safety. Very often dreams would

break up about them in this fashion, and they would be separated, to endure awful adventures alone. But the

most amusing times were when he and she had a clear understanding that it was all makebelieve, and

walked through milewide roaring rivers without even taking off their shoes, or set light to populous cities to

see how they would burn, and were rude as any children to the vague shadows met in their rambles. Later in

the night they were sure to suffer for this, either at the hands of the Railway People eating among the roses, or

in the tropic uplands at the far end of the ThirtyMile Ride. Together, this did no much affright them; but

often Georgie would hear her shrill cry of "Boy! Boy!" half a world away, and hurry to her rescue before

He and she explored the darkpurple downs as far inland from the brushwoodpile as they dared, but that

was always a dangerous matter. The interior was filled with "Them," and "They" went about singing in the

hollows, and Georgie and she felt safer on or near the seaboard. So thoroughly had he come to know the

place of his dreams that even waking he accepted it as a real country, and made a rough sketch of it. He kept

his own counsel, of course; but the permanence of the land puzzled him. His ordinary dreams were as

formless and as fleeting as any healthy dreams could be, but once at the brushwoodpile he moved within

known limits and could see where he was going. There were months at a time when nothing notable crossed

his sleep. Then the dreams would come in a batch of five or six, and next morning the map that he kept in his

writing case would be written up to date, for Georgie was a most methodical person. There was, indeed, a

danger his seniors said so of his developing into a regular "Auntie Fuss" of an adjutant, and when an

officer once takes to oldmaidism there is more hope for the virgin of seventy than for him.

But fate sent the change that was needed, in the shape of a little winter campaign on the Border, which, after

the manner of little campaigns, flashed out into a very ugly war; and Cottar's regiment was chosen among the

"Now," said a major, "this'll shake the cobwebs out of us all especially you, Galahad; and we can see what

Cottar nearly wept with joy as the campaign went forward. They were fit physically fit beyond the other

troops; they were good children in camp, wet or dry, fed or unfed; and they followed their officers with the

quick suppleness and trained obedience of a firstclass football fifteen. They were cut off from their

apology for a base, and cheerfully cut their way back to it again; they crowned and cleaned out hills full of

the enemy with the precision of wellbroken dogs of chase; and in the hour of retreat, when, hampered with

the sick and wounded of the column, they were persecuted down eleven miles of waterless valley, they,

serving as rearguard, covered themselves with a great glory in the eyes of fellowprofessionals. Any

regiment can advance, but few know how to retreat with a sting in the tail. Then they turned to made roads,

most often under fire, and dismantled some inconvenient mud redoubts. They were the last corps to be

withdrawn when the rubbish of the campaign was all swept up; and after a month in standing camp, which

tries morals severely, they departed to their own place in column of fours, singing:

"'E's goin' to do without 'em Don't want 'em any more; 'E's goin' to do without 'em, As 'e's often done

before. 'E's goin' to be a martyr On a 'ighly novel plan, An' all the boys and girls will say, 'Ow! what a nice

There came out a "Gazette" in which Cottar found that he had been behaving with "courage and coolness and

discretion" in all his capacities; that he had assisted the wounded under fire, and blown in a gate, also under

fire. Net result, his captaincy and a brevet majority, coupled with the Distinguished Service Order.

As to his wounded, he explained that they were both heavy men, whom he could lift more easily than any one

else. "Otherwise, of course, I should have sent out one of my men; and, of course, about that gate business,

we were safe the minute we were well under the walls." But this did not prevent his men from cheering him

furiously whenever they saw him, or the mess from giving him a dinner on the eve of his departure to

England. (A year's leave was among the things he had "snaffled out of the campaign," I to use his own

words.) The doctor, who had taken quite as much as was good for him, quoted poetry about "a good blade

carving the casques of men," and so on, and everybody told Cottar that he was an excellent person; but when

he rose to make his maiden speech they shouted so that he was understood to say, "It isn't any use tryin' to

It is not unpleasant to spend eightandtwenty days in an easygoing steamer on warm waters, in the

company of a woman who lets you see that you are head and shoulders superior to the rest of the world, even

though that woman may be, and most often is, ten counted years your senior. P.O. boats are not lighted with

the disgustful particularity of Atlantic liners. There is more phosphorescence at the bows, and greater silence

Awful things might have happened to Georgie but for the little fact that he had never studied the first

principles of the game he was expected to play. So when Mrs. Zuleika, at Aden, told him how motherly an

interest she felt in his welfare, medals, brevet, and all, Georgie took her at the foot of the letter, and promptly

talked of his own mother, three hundred miles nearer each day, of his home, and so forth, all the way up the

Red Sea. It was much easier than he had supposed to converse with a woman for an hour at a time. Then Mrs.

Zuleika, turning from parental affection, spoke of love in the abstract as a thing not unworthy of study, and in

discreet twilights after dinner demanded confidences. Georgie would have been delighted to supply them, but

he had none, and did not know it was his duty to manufacture them. Mrs. Zuleika expressed surprise and

unbelief, and asked those questions which deep asks of deep. She learned all that was necessary to

conviction, and, being very much a woman, resumed (Georgie never knew that she had abandoned) the

"Do you know," she said, somewhere in the Mediterranean, "I think you're the very dearest boy I have ever

met in my life, and I'd like you to remember me a little. You will when you are older, but I want you to

"Oh! Hope so," said Georgie, gravely; "but there's heaps of time for marryin' an' all that sort of thing, ain't

"That depends. Here are your beanbags for the Ladies' Competition. I think I'm growing too old to care for

They were getting up sports, and Georgie was on the committee. He never noticed how perfectly the bags

were sewn, but another woman did, and smiled once. He liked Mrs. Zuleika greatly. She was a bit old, of

A few nights after they passed Gibraltar his dream returned to him. She who waited by the brushwoodpile

was no longer a little girl, but a woman with black hair that grew into a "widow's peak," combed back from

her forehead. He knew her for the child in black, the companion of the last six years, and, as it had been in the

time of the meetings on the Lost Continent, he was filled with delight unspeakable. "They," for some

dreamland reason, were friendly or had gone away that night, and the two flitted together over all their

country, from the brushwoodpile up the ThirtyMile Ride, till they saw the House of the Sick Thing, a

pinpoint in the distance to the left; stamped through the Railway Waitingroom where the roses lay on the

spread breakfasttables; and returned, by the ford and the city they had once burned for sport, to the great

swells of the downs under the lamppost. Wherever they moved a strong singing followed them

underground, but this night there was no panic. All the land was empty except for themselves, and at the last

(they were sitting by the lamppost hand in hand) she turned and kissed him. He woke with a start, staring at

the waving curtain of the cabin door; he could almost have sworn that the kiss was real.

Next morning the ship was rolling in a Biscay sea, and people were not happy; but as Georgie came to

breakfast, shaven, tubbed, and smelling of soap, several turned to look at him because of the light in his eyes

"Well, you look beastly fit," snapped a neighbour. "Any one left you a legacy in the middle of the Bay?"

Georgie reached for the curry, with a seraphic grin. "I suppose it's the gettin' so near home, and all that. I do

Mrs. Zuleika stayed in her cabin till the end of the voyage, when she left without bidding him farewell, and

wept passionately on the dockhead for pure joy of meeting her children, who, she had often said, were so

Georgie headed for his own country, wild with delight of his first long furlough after the lean seasons.

Nothing was changed in that orderly life, from the coachman who met him at the station to the white peacock

that stormed at the carriage from the stone wall above the shaven lawns. The house took toll of him with due

regard to precedence first the mother; then the father; then the housekeeper, who wept and praised God;

then the butler, and so on down to the underkeeper, who had been dogboy in Georgie's youth, and called

him "Master Georgie," and was reproved by the groom who had taught Georgie to ride.

"Not a thing changed," he sighed contentedly, when the three of them sat down to dinner in the late sunlight,

while the rabbits crept out upon the lawn below the cedars, and the big trout in the ponds by the home

"Our changes are all over, dear," cooed the mother; "and now I am getting used to your size and your tan

(you're very brown, Georgie), I see you haven't changed in the least. You're exactly like the pater."

The father beamed on this man after his own heart, "youngest major in the army, and should have had the

V.C., sir," and the butler listened with his professional mask off when Master Georgie spoke of war as it is

They went out on the terrace to smoke among the roses, and the shadow of the old house lay long across the

"Perfect! By Jove, it's perfect!" Georgie was looking at the roundbosomed woods beyond the home

paddock, where the white pheasant boxes were ranged; and the golden air was full of a hundred sacred scents

"It's not half bad but hodie mihi, cras tibi, isn't it? I suppose you'll be turning up some fine day with a girl

"I hadn't time, mummy. They keep a man pretty busy, these days, in the service, and most of our mess are

"Don't dance! What have you been doing with yourself, then backing other men's bills?" said the father.

"Oh, yes; I've done a little of that too; but you see, as things are now, a man has all his work cut out for him

to keep abreast of his profession, and my days were always too full to let me lark about half the night."

"It's never too late to learn. We ought to give some kind of housewarming for the people about, now you've

"No. I don't want anything better than this. Let's sit still and enjoy ourselves. I suppose there will be

"Seeing I've been kept down to the old brown pair for the last six weeks because all the others were being got

ready for Master Georgie, I should say there might be," the father chuckled. "They're reminding me in a

"The pater doesn't mean it, dear; but every one has been trying to make your homecoming a success; and

And so up and down the flagged walk till their shadows grew long in the moonlight, and the mother went

indoors and played such songs as a small boy once clamoured for, and the squat silver candlesticks were

brought in, and Georgie climbed to the two rooms in the west wing that had been his nursery and his

playroom in the beginning. Then who should come to tuck him up for the night but the mother? And she sat

down on the bed, and they talked for a long hour, as mother and son should, if there is to be any future for the

Empire. With a simple woman's deep guile she asked questions and suggested answers that should have

waked some sign in the face on the pillow, and there was neither quiver of eyelid nor quickening of breath,

neither evasion nor delay in reply. So she blessed him and kissed him on the mouth, which is not always a

mother's property, and said something to her husband later, at which he laughed profane and incredulous

All the establishment waited on Georgie next morning, from the tallest sixyearold, "with a mouth like a kid

glove, Master Georgie," to the underkeeper strolling carelessly along the horizon, Georgie's pet rod in his

hand, and "There's a fourpounder risin' below the lasher. You don't 'ave 'em in Injia, MastMajor Georgie."

It was all beautiful beyond telling, even though the mother insisted on taking him out in the landau (the

leather had the hot Sunday smell of his youth) and showing him off to her friends at all the houses for six

miles round; and the pater bore him up to town and a lunch at the club, where he introduced him, quite

carelessly, to not less than thirty ancient warriors whose sons were not the youngest majors in the army and

had not the D.S.O. After that it was Georgie's turn; and remembering his friends, he filled up the house with

that kind of officer who live in cheap lodgings at Southsea or Montpelier Square, Brompton good men all,

but not well off. The mother perceived that they needed girls to play with; and as there was no scarcity of

girls, the house hummed like a dovecote in spring. They tore up the place for amateur theatricals; they

disappeared in the gardens when they ought to have been rehearsing; they swept off every available horse and

vehicle, especially the governesscart and the fat pony; they fell into the troutponds; they picnicked and

they tennised; and they sat on gates in the twilight, two by two, and Georgie found that he was not in the least

"My word!" said he, when he saw the last of their dear backs. "They told me they've enjoyed 'emselves, but

"I know they've enjoyed themselves immensely," said the mother. "You're a public benefactor, dear."

"Oh, quite. I've a very dear friend of mine that I want you to know. She couldn't come with the house so full,

because she's an invalid, and she was away when you first came. She's a Mrs. Lacy."

"No; they came after you went to India from Oxford. Her husband died there, and she lost some money, I

believe. They bought The Firs on the Bassett Road. She's a very sweet woman, and we're very fond of them

"Does she fall into troutponds, and gas and giggle, and 'Oh, Major Cottah!' and all that sort of thing?"

"No, indeed. She's a very quiet girl, and very musical. She always came over here with her musicbooks

"'Talking about Miriam?" said the pater, coming up. The mother edged toward him within elbowreach.

There was no finesse about Georgie's father. "Oh, Miriam's a dear girl. Plays beautifully. Rides beautifully,

too. She's a regular pet of the household. Used to call me " The elbow went home, and ignorant but

"Jew! You'll be calling yourself a Jew next. She's one of the Herefordshire Lacys. When her aunt dies "

"Oh, you won't see anything of her, Georgie. She's busy with her music or her mother all day. Besides, you're

going up to town tomorrow, aren't you? I thought you said something about an Institute meeting?" The

"I had some idea of it, but I'm not quite sure," said the son of the house. Why did the mother try to get him

away because a musical girl and her invalid parent were expected? He did not approve of unknown females

calling his father pet names. He would observe these pushing persons who had been only seven years in the

All of which the delighted mother read in his countenance, herself keeping an air of sweet disinterestedness.

"They'll be here this evening for dinner. I'm sending the carriage over for them, and they won't stay more than

"Perhaps I shall go up to town. I don't quite know yet." Georgie moved away irresolutely. There was a lecture

at the United Services Institute on the supply of ammunition in the field, and the one man whose theories

most irritated Major Cottar would deliver it. A heated discussion was sure to follow, and perhaps he might

find himself moved to speak. He took his rod that afternoon and went down to thrash it out among the trout.

"Fraid it won't be, mummy. All those men from town, and the girls particularly, have put every trout off his

feed for weeks. There isn't one of 'em that cares for fishin' really. Fancy stampin' and shoutin' on the bank,

and tellin' every fish for half a mile exactly what you're goin' to do, and then chuckin' a brute of a fly at him!

But things were not as bad as he had expected. The black gnat was on the water, and the water was strictly

preserved. A threequarterpounder at the second cast set him for the campaign, and he worked

downstream, crouching behind the reed and meadowsweet; creeping between a hornbeam hedge and a

footwide strip of bank, where he could see the trout, but where they could not distinguish him from the

background; lying almost on his stomach to switch the blueupright sidewise through the checkered shadows

of a gravelly ripple under overarching trees. But he had known every inch of the water since he was four feet

high. The aged and astute between sunk roots, with the large and fat that lay in the frothy scum below some

strong rush of water, sucking as lazily as carp, came to trouble in their turn, at the hand that imitated so

delicately the flicker and wimple of an eggdropping fly. Consequently, Georgie found himself five miles

from home when he ought to have been dressing for dinner. The housekeeper had taken good care that her

boy should not go empty, and before he changed to the white moth he sat down to excellent claret with

sandwiches of potted egg and things that adoring women make and men never notice. Then back, to surprise

the otter grubbing for freshwater mussels, the rabbits on the edge of the beechwoods foraging in the clover,

and the policemanlike white owl stooping to the little fieldmice, till the moon was strong, and he took his

rod apart, and went home through wellremembered gaps in the hedges. He fetched a compass round the

house, for, though he might have broken every law of the establishment every hour, the law of his boyhood

was unbreakable: after fishing you went in by the south garden backdoor, cleaned up in the outer scullery,

and did not present yourself to your elders and your betters till you had washed and changed.

"Halfpast ten, by Jove! Well, we'll make the sport an excuse. They wouldn't want to see me the first

evening, at any rate. Gone to bed, probably." He skirted by the open French windows of the drawingroom.

He could see his father in his own particular chair, the mother in hers, and the back of a girl at the piano by

the big potpourrijar. The gardens looked half divine in the moonlight, and he turned down through the roses

A preludeended, and there floated out a voice of the kind that in his childhood he used to call "creamy" a

At the last echo he was aware that his mouth was dry and unknown pulses were beating in the roof of it. The

housekeeper, who would have it that he must have fallen in and caught a chill, was waiting to catch him on

the stairs, and, since he neither saw nor answered her, carried a wild tale abroad that brought his mother

He did not recognise his own voice, but that was a small matter beside what he was considering. Obviously,

most obviously, the whole coincidence was crazy lunacy. He proved it to the satisfaction of Major George

Cottar, who was going up to town tomorrow to hear a lecture on the supply of ammunition in the field; and

having so proved it, the soul and brain and heart and body of Georgie cried joyously: "That's the Lily Lock

girl the Lost Continent girl the ThirtyMile Ride girl the Brushwood girl! I know her!"

He waked, stiff and cramped in his chair, to reconsider the situation by sunlight, when it did not appear

normal. But a man must eat, and he went to breakfast, his heart between his teeth, holding himself severely in

A tall girl in black raised her eyes to his, and Georgie's life training deserted him just as soon as he realised

that she did not know. He stared coolly and critically. There was the abundant black hair, growing in a

widow's peak, turned back from the forehead, with that peculiar ripple over the right ear; there were the grey

eyes set a little close together; the short upper lip, resolute chin, and the known poise of the head. There was

"Georgie dear!" said the mother, amazedly, for Miriam was flushing under the stare.

"I I beg your pardon!" he gulped. "I don't know whether the mother has told you, but I'm rather an idiot at

times, specially before I've had my breakfast. It's it's a family failing.' He turned to explore among the

hotwater dishes on the sideboard, rejoicing that she did not know she did not know.

His conversation for the rest of the meal was mildly insane, though the mother thought she had never seen her

boy look half so handsome. How could any girl, least of all one of Miriam's discernment, forbear to fall down

and worship? But deeply Miriam was displeased. She had never been stared at in that fashion before, and

promptly retired into her shell when Georgie announced that he had changed his mind about going to town,

"Oh, but don't let me throw you out. I'm at work. I've things to do all the morning."

"What possessed Georgie to behave so oddly?" the mother sighed to herself. "Miriam's a bundle of feelings

"You compose don't you? Must be a fine thing to be able to do that. [" Pigoh, pig!" thought Miriam.] I

think I heard you singin' when I came in last night after fishin'. All about a Sea of Dreams, wasn't it? [Miriam

shuddered to the core of the soul that afflicted her.] Awfully pretty song. How d' you think of such things?"

"The words too. I'm sure of it," said Georgie, with a sparkling eye. No; she did not know.

"Yeth; I wrote the words too." Miriam spoke slowly, for she knew she lisped when she was nervous.

"Now how could you tell, Georgie?" said the mother, as delighted as though the youngest major in the army

"I was sure of it, somehow. Oh, there are heaps of things about me, mummy, that you don't understand.

Looks as if it were goin' to be a hot day for England. Would you care for a ride this afternoon, Miss Lacy?

Miriam could not in decency refuse, but any woman might see she was not filled with delight.

"That will be very nice, if you take the Bassett Road. It will save me sending Martin down to the village,"

Like all good managers, the mother had her one weakness a mania for little strategies that should

economise horses and vehicles. Her menfolk complained that she turned them into common carriers, and

there was a legend in the family that she had once said to the pater on the morning of a meet: "If you should

kill near Bassett, dear, and if it isn't too late, would you mind just popping over and matching me this?"

" I knew that was coming. You'd never miss a chance, mother. If it's a fish or a trunk I won't." Georgie

"It's only a duck. They can do it up very neatly at Mallett's," said the mother, simply. "You won't mind, will

The long summer day dragged itself out for centuries; but at last there was tea on the lawn, and Miriam

She was in the saddle before he could offer to help, with the clean spring of the child who mounted the pony

for the ThirtyMile Ride. The day held mercilessly, though Georgie got down thrice to look for imaginary

stones in Rufus's foot. One cannot say even simple things in broad light, and this that Georgie meditated was

not simple. So he spoke seldom, and Miriam was divided between relief and scorn. It annoyed her that the

great hulking thing should know she had written the words of the song overnight; for though a maiden may

sing her most secret fancies aloud, she does not care to have them trampled over by the male Philistine. They

rode into the little redbrick street of Bassett, and Georgie made untold fuss over the disposition of that duck.

It must go in just such a package, and be fastened to the saddle in just such a manner, though eight o'clock

"There's no great hurry; but we can cut over Dowhead Down, and let 'em out on the grass. That will save us

The horses capered on the short, sweetsmelling turf, and the delaying shadows gathered in the valley as they

cantered over the great dun down that overhangs Bassett and the Western coachingroad. Insensibly the pace

quickened without thought of molehills; Rufus, gentleman that he was, waiting on Miriam's Dandy till they

should have cleared the rise. Then down the twomile slope they raced together, the wind whistling in their

ears, to the steady throb of eight hoofs and the light clickclick of the shifting bits.

"Oh, that was glorious!" Miriam cried, reining in. "Dandy and I are old friends, but I don't think we've ever

Georgie moistened his lips. "Don't you remember the ThirtyMile Ride with me when 'They' were after

us on the beachroad, with the sea to the left going toward the lamppost on the downs?"

"You mean ? I didn't sing anything about the ThirtyMile Ride. I know I didn't. I have never told a living

"You told about Policeman Day, and the lamp at the top of the downs, and the City of Sleep. It all joins on,

you know it's the same country and it was easy enough to see where you had been."

"Good God! It joins on of course it does; but I have been you have been Oh, let's walk, please, or I

Georgie ranged alongside, and laid a hand that shook below her bridlehand, pulling Dandy into a walk.

"It's all right it's all right," he whispered feebly. "Only only it's true, you know."

"Not unless I'm mad as well. Do try to think a minute quietly. How could any one conceivably know anything

about the ThirtyMile Ride having anything to do with you, unless he had been there?"

"There wherever it may be in our country, I suppose. Do you remember the first time you rode it the

"Let me think. I we were on no account to make any noise on no account to make any noise." She was

staring between Dandy's ears, with eyes that did not see, and a suffocating heart.

"I ought to. I was sitting on the other side of the bed before 'It' coughed and 'They' came in."

"You!" the deep voice was unnaturally full and strong, and the girl's wideopened eyes burned in the dusk

as she stared him through and through. "Then you're the Boy my Brushwood Boy, and I've known you all

She fell forward on Dandy's neck. Georgie forced himself out of the weakness that was overmastering his

limbs, and slid an arm round her waist. The head dropped on his shoulder, and he found himself with parched

lips saying things that up till then he believed existed only in printed works of fiction. Mercifully the horses

were quiet. She made no attempt to draw herself away when she recovered, but lay still, whispering, "Of

"I couldn't speak before this. Keep your head where it is, dear. It's all right now all right now, isn't it?"

"But how was it I didn't know after all these years and years? I remember oh, what lots of things I

"You told me it was when I was lost in the continent. That was you that showed me the way through the

"When the islands slid? It must have been, because you're the only one I remember. All the others were

"I remember showing you the ThirtyMile Ride the first time. You ride just as you used to then. You are

"What does it all mean? Why should you and I of the millions of people in the world have this this thing

"This!" said Georgie. The horses quickened their pace. They thought they had heard an order. "Perhaps when

There was no answer. What could she say? As the world went, they had known each other rather less than

eight and a half hours, but the matter was one that did not concern the world. There was a very long silence,

while the breath in their nostrils drew cold and sharp as it might have been a fume of ether.

"On the downs the other nightmonths ago. You were just as you are now, and we went over the country for

"It was all empty, too. They had gone away. Nobody frightened us. I wonder why, Boy?"

"I know I didn't, because oh, it's no use keeping anything back! because I truthfully meant to."

"There was there always is. It was another woman out there on the sea. I saw her. It was the 26th of

"Oh, you've kept a record of your dreams, too? That's odd about the other woman, because I happened to be

"I was right. How do I know what you've done when you were awake and I thought it was only you!"

"You never were more wrong in your life. What a little temper you've got! Listen to me a minute, dear." And

Georgie, though he knew it not, committed black perjury. "It it isn't the kind of thing one says to any one,

because they'd laugh; but on my word and honour, darling, I've never been kissed by a living soul outside my

own people in all my life. Don't laugh, dear. I wouldn't tell any one but you, but it's the solemn truth."

"I knew! You are you. Oh, I knew you'd come some day; but I didn't know you were you in the least till you

"And you never cared or looked anywhere? Why, all the round world must have loved you from the very

"And we shall be late for dinner horribly late. Oh, how can I look at you in the light before your mother

"We'll play you're Miss Lacy till the proper time comes. What's the shortest limit for people to get engaged?

"Oh, I don't want to talk about that. It's so commonplace. I've thought of something that you don't know. I'm

Miri no, it isn't, by Jove! Wait half a second, and it'll come back to me. You aren't you can't? Why, those

old tales before I went to school! I've never thought of 'em from that day to this. Are you the original, only

"It was what you always called me ever since the beginning. Oh! We've turned into the avenue, and we must

"What does it matter? The chain goes as far back as those days? It must, of course of course it must. I've

"Yes, I do flowerpots on my feet, and all. We've been together all this while; and I've got to say good bye

to you till dinner. Sure I'll see you at dinnertime? Sure you won't sneak up to your room, darling, and leave

"Goodbye, Boy, goodbye. Mind the arch! Don't let Rufus bolt into his stables. Goodbye. Yes, I'll come