The Jungle Girl

by Gordon Casserly

  CHAPTER IX

  TIGER LAND

  Wargrave fired. His shot struck the panther rather far back, woundingbut not disabling it. It swung round to face its assailant. Seeing Frankit promptly charged. The second cartridge took it in front of theshoulder and raked its body from end to end. Coughing blood the beastrolled over and over, biting its paws, clawing savagely at the earth,trying to rise and falling back in fury, while Frank rapidly reloadedand stepped between it and the children. But the convulsions becamefewer and less violent, the limbs stiffened, the beautiful black andyellow body sank inert to the ground. The tail twitched a little. A fewtremors shook the panther. Then it lay still.

  The subaltern turned eagerly to the children.

  "It's Frank. Look, Eileen, it's Frank," cried Brian. "He's killed thenasty dog."

  The little girl, who had sunk to the ground, struggled to her feet andwith her brother was swept up in a joyous embrace by the subaltern.Then, bidding the boy hold on to the sleeve of the arm carrying the gun,Wargrave started back with Eileen perched on his shoulder. As theypassed the panther's body she looked down at it and clapped her hands.

  "He's deaded. Nasty, bad dog!" she cried.

  Striking a path through the undergrowth the subaltern climbed down thesteep ravine that lay between the hill and the Political Officer'sbungalow. As he struggled up the steep side of the _nullah_ he heardtheir mother calling the children with a note of inquietude in hervoice; and he answered her with a reassuring shout. Coming up on thelevel behind the low stone wall of the garden he found Mrs. Dermot andMuriel anxiously awaiting him.

  "Mumsie! Hallo, Mumsie! Here's me. Fwank shooted bad dog," cried Eileen,waving her arms and kicking her bearer violently in her excitement.

  "Yes, Mumsie, Frank killded the nasty dog that wanted to eat us," addedBrian.

  Wargrave passed the children over the wall into the anxious armsoutstretched for them, then vaulted into the garden.

  "What has happened, Mr. Wargrave?" asked Mrs. Dermot, pressing herchildren to her nervously. "What is this about your shooting a dog?"

  The subaltern told the story briefly.

  "Oh, my babies! My babies!" cried the mother with tears in her eyes,clasping the mites to her breast and kissing them frantically. Thelittle woman who had many times faced death undauntedly at her husband'sside broke down utterly at the thought of her children's peril.

  She overwhelmed Wargrave with her thanks, while Muriel complimented himon his promptness and presence of mind and then scolded the urchins fortheir disobedience in wandering away from the garden by themselves. Butthe unrepentant pair smiled genially at her from the shelter of theirmother's arms and assured her that "Fwankie" would always take care ofthem. Their mother, even when she grew more composed, could not besevere after so nearly losing them; but although unwilling to terrifythem by a recital of the awful fate from which the subaltern had savedthem by the merest chance, she impressed upon them again and again heroft-repeated warning that they must never leave the garden alone.

  But they were not awed; so, bidding them thank and kiss him, she borethem off to bed, her eyes still full of tears.

  Wargrave sent a servant to fetch his orderly and the detachment _mochi_,or cobbler, to skin the panther, the news of the death of which soonspread. So Major Hunt and Burke joined Miss Benson and the subalternwhen they went to look at its body, and numbers of sepoys streamed upfrom the Fort to view the animal, which had long been notorious in thestation. Lamps had to be brought to finish the skinning of it; and thehide, when taken off, was carried in triumph to the Mess compound to becured.

  On the following afternoon on the tennis-court in a corner of theparade ground Miss Benson was left with Burke and Wargrave when Mrs.Dermot had taken her children home at sunset.

  "You've completely won her heart," the girl said to the subaltern,pointing with her racquet to the disappearing form of her friend."Nothing's too good for you for saving these precious mites. But she'llnever let them out of her sight again until their big nurse returns."

  "You mean their elephant? Well, of course he's a marvellouslywell-trained animal; but is he really so reliable that he can always betrusted to look after those children?"

  "Badshah is something very much more than a well-trained animal. Perhapssome time out in the jungle you may understand why the natives regardhim as sacred and call Colonel Dermot the 'God of the Elephants.' Youdon't know Badshah as we do."

  "Well, old Burke here has told me some strange yarns about him. But, ashe's always pulling my leg, I never know when to believe him."

  The doctor grinned.

  "We won't waste words on him, Captain Burke," said the girl. "It's timeto go home now."

  They escorted her to the Dermots' bungalow, where the doctor lingeredfor a few more minutes in her society, while Wargrave climbed up to theMess and went to look at the panther's skin pegged out on the groundunder a thick coating of ashes and now as hard as a board after a day'sexposure to the burning sun.

  A few days later Miss Benson left the station to rejoin her father inone of the three or four isolated wooden bungalows built to accommodatethe Forest Officer in different parts of his district, each one lost andlonely in the silent jungle. For days after her departure Burke wasvisibly depressed; and Wargrave, too, missed the bright and attractivegirl who had enlivened the quiet little station during her stay.

  A fortnight later Colonel Dermot returned from Bhutan; and his gratitudeto the subaltern for the rescue of his children was sincere andheart-felt. He was only too glad to take the young man out into thejungle on every possible occasion and continue his instruction in theways of the forest. This companionship and the sport were particularlybeneficial to Wargrave just then. For they served to take him out ofhimself and raise him from the state of depression into which he wasfalling, thanks to Violet's letters, the tone of which was becoming morebitter each time she wrote.

  Her reply to his long and cheery epistle describing Ranga Duar's unusualburst of gaiety during the Envoy's visit and his own rescue of thechildren was as follows:

  "You do not seem to miss me much among your new friends. While I am leading a most unhappy and miserable life here you appear to be enjoying yourself and giving little thought to me. You are lucky to have two such very beautiful ladies to make much of you; and I daresay they think you a wonderful hero for saving the little brats who, if they are like most children, would not be much loss. Their mother seems extremely friendly to you for such a devoted wife as you try to make her out to be. Or perhaps it is the girl you admire most; this marvellous young lady who shoots tigers and apparently manages the whole Terai Forest. You say you love me; but you don't seem to be pining very much for me. While each day that comes since you left me is a fresh agony to me, you appear to contrive to be quite happy without me."

  This letter stung Wargrave like the lash of a whip across the face. Todo Violet justice no sooner had she sent it than she regretted it. Butdeeply hurt as he was by the bitter words he forgave her; for he feltthat her life was indeed miserable and that he was unconsciously in agreat measure to blame for its being so. But it maddened him to realisehis present helplessness to alter matters. He was more than willing tosacrifice himself to help her; but it would be a long time before hecould hope to save enough to pay his debts and make a home for her.Whether it was wicked or not to take away another man's wife did notoccur to him; all that he knew was that a woman was unhappy and he alonecould help her. It seemed to him that the sin--if sin there were--wasthe husband's, who starved her heart and rendered her miserable.

  In his distress work and sport proved his salvation. He threw himselfheart and soul into his duty, and whenever there was nothing for him todo with the detachment Major Hunt encouraged him to go with thePolitical Officer into the jungle. For little as he suspected it thesenior guessed the young man's trouble and watched him sympathisingly.

  One never-to-be-forgotten day as Wargrave was returning from afternoo
nparade Colonel Dermot called to him from his gate and showed him atelegram. It ran: "Tiger marked down. Come immediately _dak_ bungalow,Madpur Duar. Muriel."

  As the subaltern perused it with delight the Colonel said:

  "Ask your C.O. for leave. Then, if he gives it, get somethingsubstantial to eat in the Mess and be ready to start at once. MadpurDuar is thirty odd miles away; and we'll have to travel all night. Cometo my bungalow as soon as you can."

  Half an hour later the two were trudging down the road to the_peelkhana_ carrying their rifles. Badshah, with a _howdah_ roped on tohis pad, plodded behind them; for it is far more comfortable to walkdown a steep descent than be carried down it by an elephant. At the footof the hills they mounted and were borne away into the gathering shadowsof the long road through the forest. As they proceeded their talk wasall of tigers; for in India, though there be bigger and more splendidgame in the land, its traditional animal never fails to interest, andto Wargrave on his way to his first tiger-shoot all other topics wereinsignificant.

  The sun went down and darkness settled on the forest. The talk died awayand no sound was heard but the soft padding of their elephant's hugefeet in the dust of the road. The subaltern soon found the _howdah_infinitely more trying than a seat on the pad when Badshah was inmotion; for the plunging gait of the animal jerked him backwards andforwards and threw him against the wooden rails if he forgot to holdhimself at arm's length from them. The discomfort spoiled hisappreciation of the strange, attractive experience of being borne bynight through the sleepless forest, where in the dark hours only thebird and the monkey repose; and even to them the creeping menace of theclimbing snake affrights the one and the wheeling shapes of thenight-flying birds of prey scare the other. But on the ground all areawake. The glimmering whiteness of the road was occasionally blotted bythe scurrying forms of animals, hunted and hunters, dashing across it.Once a tiny shriek in the distance broke the silence of the jungle.

  "A wild elephant," said Colonel Dermot.

  Then followed the loud crashing of rending boughs and falling trees.

  "That's a herd feeding. They graze until about ten o'clock and thensleep on well into the small hours, wake and begin to feed again atdawn," continued the Political Officer.

  Once a wild, unearthly wailing cry that seemed to come from everydirection at once startled the subaltern:

  "Good Heavens! what's that?" he exclaimed, gripping his rifle and tryingto pierce the darkness around them.

  "Only a Giant Owl," was the reply. "It's an uncanny noise. There!"

  Right over their heads it rang out again; and the stars above them wereblotted out for a moment by a dark, circling shape above the tree-tops.

  Hour after hour went by as they were borne along through the night; andWargrave bruised and battered by the _howdah_-rails, fell constantlyagainst them, so overcome with sleep was he. At last to his relief hiscompanion called a halt for a few hours' rest; and they brought theelephant to his knees, dismounted and stripped him of _howdah_ and pad.Sitting on the latter they supped on sandwiches and coffee from Thermosflasks, and then stretched themselves to sleep, while Badshah standingover them grazed on the grasses and branches within reach. Wargrave wasdropping off to sleep when he was roused by the sharp, _staccato_ barkof a _khakur_ buck repeated several times. The tired man lostconsciousness and was sunk in profound slumber when the silence of theforest was shattered by a snorting, braying roar that rang through thejungle with alarming suddenness.

  Wargrave sprang up and groped for his rifle. But his companion laytranquilly on the pad.

  "It's all right. It's only a tiger that's missed his spring and is angryabout it," he said sleepily. "Lie down again."

  "Only a tiger, sir?" repeated Wargrave. "But it sounded close by."

  "Yes, but Badshah will look after us. Don't worry"; and the Colonelturned over and fell asleep.

  It was a little time, however, before Frank followed his example, and hehad his rifle under his hand when he did. But the dark bulk of theelephant towering over them comforted him as he sank to sleep.

  A couple of hours later they were on their way again. It was broaddaylight before they emerged from the jungle. It seemed strange to beout once more in the wide-stretching, open and cultivated plains and tolook back on the great forest and, beyond it, to the mountains toweringto the sky. Before them lay the flat expanse of the hedgeless, fertilefields dotted here and there with clusters of trimly-built huts or thickgroves of bamboos and seamed with the lines of deep _nullahs_, the topsof the trees in them barely showing above the level and marking theirwinding course.

  The _dak_ bungalow at Madpur Duar was soon reached, a single-storiedbuilding with a couple of trees shading the well behind it and a groupof elephants and their _mahouts_. On the verandah Benson and hisdaughter were standing, the girl dressed in a khaki drill coat and skirtover breeches and soft leather gaiters, and waving a welcome toBadshah's riders.

  After a hurried breakfast the latter were ready to start for the day'ssport. By then a line of ten female elephants, the tallest carrying a_howdah_, the rest only their pads, was drawn up before the bungalow;and at a word from their _mahouts_ their trunks went up in the air andthe animals trumpeted in salute as the party came out on the verandah.

  "We borrowed Mr. Carter's and the Settlement Officer's elephants for thebeat," said Miss Benson, as, wearing a big pith sunhat and carrying adouble-barrelled .400 cordite rifle, she led the way down the verandahsteps.

  It had been arranged that she was to take Wargrave with her in her_howdah_, while her father accompanied Colonel Dermot on Badshah. Herbig elephant knelt down and a ladder was laid against its side, up whichshe climbed, followed by the subaltern. When all were mounted she ledthe way across the plain. Although the ground was everywhere level andjust there uncultivated the elephants tailed off in single file as isthe habit of their kind, wild or domesticated, each stepping withprecise care into the footprints of the one in front of it. Here in thePlains the heat was intense; and Wargrave, shading his eyes from theblinding glare, thought enviously of the coolness up in the mountainsthat he had left. As they moved along Muriel explained to him how thebeat was to be conducted.

  Where the southern fringe of the Terai Jungle borders the cultivatedcountry it is a favourite haunt of tigers, which from its shelter carryon war against the farmers' cattle. Creeping down the ravines seamingthe soft soil and worn by the streams that flow through the forest fromthe hills they pull down the cows grazing or coming to drink in the_nullahs_, which are filled with small trees and scrubs affording goodcover. A tiger, when it has killed, drags the carcase of its prey intoshade near water, eats a hearty meal of about eighty pounds of flesh,drinks and then sleeps until it is ready to feed again. If disturbed itretreats up the ravine to the forest.

  So, beating for one with elephants here, the sportsmen place themselveson their _howdah_-bearing animals between the jungle and the spot wherethe tiger is known to be lying up, and the beater elephants enter thescrub from the far side and shepherd him gently towards the guns.

  Pointing to a distant line of tree-tops showing above the level plainshe said:

  "There is the _nullah_ in which, about a mile farther on, a cow waskilled yesterday. I hope the tiger is still lying up in it. We'll soonsee."

  They reached the ravine, which was twenty or thirty feet deep andcontained a little stream flowing through tangled scrub, and moved alongparallel to it and about a couple of hundred yards away. Presently thegirl pointed to a tall tree growing in it and a quarter of a mile aheadof them. Its upper branches were bending under the weight of numbers offoul-looking bald-headed vultures, squawking, huddled together, jostlingeach other on their perches and pecking angrily at their neighbours withirritable cries. Some circled in the air and occasionally swooped downtowards the ground only to rocket up again affrightedly to the sky; forthe tiger lay by its kill and resented the approach of any daring birdthat aspired to share the feast. Muriel hurriedly explained how theconduct of the birds ind
icated the beast's presence.

  "If he were not there they'd be down tearing the carcase to pieces," shesaid, as she held up her hand and halted the file behind her.

  "The beater elephants had better stop here, Colonel," she called out toDermot. "There is a way down and across the _nullah_, by which you cantake Badshah to the far side. We will remain on this."

  The Political Officer, who had seen and realised the significance of thevultures, waved his hand and moved off at once. Muriel called up the_mahouts_ and bade them enter the ravine and begin the beat in about tenminutes, then told her driver to go on. Half a mile beyond the tree sheordered him to halt and take up a position close to the edge of the_nullah_, into which they could look down. Below them the bottom wasclear of scrub which ended fifty yards away. Dermot stopped opposite;and both elephants were turned to face towards the spot where the tigerwas judged to be.

  "Mr Wargrave, get to the front of the _howdah_ and be ready," she saidin a low tone.

  The subaltern protested chivalrously against taking the best place.

  "Oh, it's all right. We've brought you out to get the tiger; so you mustdo as you're told. If he breaks out this side take the first shot," shesaid peremptorily.

  He submitted and took up his position with cocked rifle. As the _nullah_wound a good deal the tops of the trees in it prevented them from seeingif the beater-elephants had gone in; but in a few minutes they hearddistant shouts and the crashing of the undergrowth as the big animalsforced their way through the scrub.

  "Be ready, Mr. Wargrave," whispered the girl. "Sometimes a tiger startson the run at the first sound."

  His nerves a-quiver and his heart beating violently the subaltern heldhis rifle at the ready, as the noise of the beaters drew nearer. Againand again he brought the butt to his shoulder, only to lower it when herealised that it was a false alarm. The sounds of the beat grew louderand closer, and still there was no sign of the tiger. Frank's heartsank. He saw the vultures stir uneasily and some rise into the air asthe elephants passed under them.

  At last through the trees he began to catch occasional glimpses of the_mahouts_, and he lost hope. But suddenly from the scrub below them inthe _nullah_ a number of small birds flew up; and the next instant theedge of the bushes nearest them was parted stealthily and a tiger slunkcautiously out in the bottom of the ravine.

  Wargrave's rifle went up to his shoulder; and he fired. A startled roarfrom the beast told that it was hit; but it bounded in a flash acrossthe ravine and up the steep bank on their side not forty yards fromthem. As it scrambled swiftly over the edge it caught sight of theelephant and with a deep "wough!" charged straight at it.

  Frank fired again, and his bullet struck up the dust, missing theswift-rushing animal by a couple of feet. The next moment with a roarthe tiger sprang at the elephant. With one leap it landed with its hindpaws on the elephant's head, its fore-feet on the front rail of the_howdah_, standing right over the _mahout_ who crouched in terror on theneck. The savage, snarling, yellow-and-black mask was thrust almostinto Wargrave's face, and from the open red mouth lined with fiercewhite fangs he could feel the hot breath on his cheek as he tuggedfrantically at the under-lever of his rifle to open the breech andre-load. In another moment the tiger would have been on top of them inthe _howdah_ when a gun-barrel shot past the subaltern and pushed himaside. The muzzle of Muriel's rifle was pressed almost against thebrute's skull as she fired.

  Frank hardly heard the report. All he knew was that the snarling facedisappeared as quickly as it had come. The whole thing was an affair ofseconds. Shot through the brain the tiger dropped back to the groundwith a heavy thud and fell dead beside the staunch elephant which hadnever moved all through the terrible ordeal.

  A cry of relief and a prayer to Allah burst from the grey-beardedMahommedan _mahout_, as he straightened himself; and Wargrave turnedwith glowing face and outstretched hand to the girl.

  "Oh, well done! Splendidly done!" he cried. "You saved me from beinglugged bodily out of the _howdah_ or at least from being mauled. Thislever jammed and I couldn't re-load."

  Her eyes shining and face beaming with excitement she shook his hand.

  "Wasn't it thrilling? I thought he'd have got both of us." Then to the_mahout_ she continued in Urdu, "Gul Dad, are you hurt?"

  The man was solemnly feeling himself all over. He stared at a rent inthe shoulder of his coat, torn by the tiger's claw. It was the onlyinjury that he had suffered. He put his finger on it and grumbled:

  "Missie-_baba_, the _shaitan_ (devil) has torn my coat."

  In the reaction from the strain the girl and Wargrave went off in pealsof laughter at his words.

  "But are you not wounded?" Miss Benson repeated. "Has it not clawedyou?"

  The _mahout_ shook his head.

  "No, missie-_baba_; but it was my new coat," he insisted.[1]

  [1] A similar incident occurred in real life near Alipur Duar in Eastern Bengal to a lady and an officer on a female elephant named Dundora during a beat. But in this case it was the man that killed the tiger with his second rifle when it was standing on the elephant's head with its fore-paws on the _howdah_-rail. I can personally testify to Dundora's immobility when facing a charging tiger.--THE AUTHOR.

  Frank looked down at the tiger stretched motionless on the yellow grass.

  "By George, you shot him dead enough, Miss Benson!" he exclaimed.

  She stared down at the animal.

  "Yes; but it's well to be careful. I've seen a tiger look as dead asthat and yet spring up and maul a man who approached it incautiously,"she said.

  She raised her rifle and covered the prostrate animal.

  "Throw something at it," she continued.

  Wargrave took out a couple of heavy, copper-cased cartridges and flungthem one by one at the tiger's head, striking it on the jaw and in theeye. The animal did not move.

  "Seems dead enough," said the girl, lowering her rifle. "Here come thebeaters."

  The other elephants had now burst out in line through the scrub. Their_mahouts_ shouted enquiries to Gul Dad and when they heard of thetiger's death cheered gleefully, for it meant _backsheesh_ to them.Badshah was seen to be searching for a way down into the nullah and in afew minutes brought his passengers up alongside Miss Benson and thesubaltern. Her father and Dermot congratulated the girl warmly; and thelatter, having made Badshah kick the tiger to make certain that it wasdead, dismounted and examined it.

  "Here's your shot, Wargrave," he said, pointing to a hole in the belly."A bit too low, but it made a nasty wound that would have killed thebeast eventually."

  "I'm so ashamed of missing it with my second barrel, sir," said thesubaltern. "But for Miss Benson I'd have been a gone coon."

  "Yes, it certainly looked exciting enough from our side of the_nullah_," said the Colonel, smiling; "so what must it have been likefrom where you were? Well, anyhow it's your tiger."

  "Oh, nonsense, sir; it's Miss Benson's. I ought to be kicked for beingsuch a muff."

  "Jungle law, Mr. Wargrave," said the girl, laughing "You hit it first,so it's your beast."

  "You needn't be ashamed of missing it," added the Colonel. "A chargingtiger coming full speed at you is not an easy mark. No; the skin isyours; and Muriel has so many that she can spare it."

  "Well, Miss Benson, I accept it as a gift from you; but I won'tacknowledge that I have earned it," said the subaltern.

  "Now, we'd better pad it and see about getting back," said Dermot,looking at his watch.

  The other elephants had now found their way up the bank and joinedBadshah and his companion. When their _mahouts_ heard from Gul Dad thestory of the tiger's death they exclaimed in amazement and admiration:

  "_Ahre, Chai_! (Oh, brother!) Truly the missie-_baba_ is a wonder. Shewill be the death of many tigers, indeed," they said.

  Then each in turn brought his elephant up to the prostrate animal andmade her smell and strike it with her trunk in order to inspire her withcontempt for tigers. Co
lonel Dermot measured it with a tape and found itto be nine feet six inches from nose to tip of tail. It was a young,fully-grown male in splendid condition. Then came the troublesomebusiness of "padding" it, that is, hoisting it on to the pad of one ofthe elephants to bring it back to the bungalow to be skinned. It was notan easy matter. For the tiger weighed nearly three hundred and fiftypounds; and to raise the limp carcase, which sagged like a feather bedat every spot where there was not a man to support it, was a difficulttask. But it was achieved at last; and with the tiger roped firmly on apad the elephants started back in single file.

  As they went over the plain in the burning sun Wargrave looked back towhere the striped body was borne along with stiff, dangling legs.

  "By Jove, it's been great, Miss Benson," he exclaimed. "Some people saytiger shooting's not exciting. They ought to have been with us to-day. Iam lucky to have got a bison already and now to have seen this. Withluck I'll be having a shot at an elephant next."

  The girl replied in a serious tone:

  "Don't say that to Colonel Dermot. Elephants are his especial friends.Besides, you are only allowed to shoot rogues; and since he's been herethere have been none in these jungles which formerly swarmed with them.There's no doubt that he has a wonderful, uncanny control over even wildelephants. Do you know that once a rajah tried to have him killed in hispalace by a mad tusker, which had just slaughtered several men, and themoment the brute got face to face with him it was cowed and obeyed himlike a dog?"

  "Good gracious, is that so?"

  "Yes, I could tell you even more extraordinary things about his powerover elephants; but some day when you're in the jungle with him you maysee it for yourself. Oh, isn't it hot? I do wish we were home."

  Arrived at the _dak_ bungalow the tiger's carcase was lowered to theground and given over to the knives of the flayers summoned from the_bazaar_ of Madpur Duar a mile away. As soon as the news was known inthe small town crowds of Hindu women streamed to the bungalow compound,where with their _saris_ (shawls) pulled modestly across their brownfaces by rounded arms tinkling with glass bangles they squatted on theground and waited patiently until the skin was drawn clear off the rawred carcase. Then they crowded around a couple of the older _mahouts_who, first cutting off all the firm white fat of the well-fed cattlethief to be melted down for oil (esteemed to be a sovereign remedy forrheumatism), hacked the flesh into chunks which they threw into theeager hands of the women. These took the meat home to cook for theirhusbands to eat to instil into them the spirit and vigour of a tiger.The skin, spread out and pegged to the ground, was covered with woodashes and left to dry. Little of the animal was left but the bones, tothe disappointment of the wheeling, whistling kites waiting on soaringwings in the sky above.

  After tea the two officers took their leave with many expressions ofgratitude from the younger man to the girl for her kindness in arrangingthe beat for him. Hours afterwards, as they halted in the forest for arest in the middle of the night, Colonel Dermot said:

  "You told me once that you'd like a job like mine, Wargrave. Would youcare for frontier political work here?"

  "I'd love it, sir," exclaimed the subaltern enthusiastically. "Would itbe possible to get it?"

  "Well, I've been thinking for some time of applying to the Government ofIndia for an assistant political officer who would help me and take overif I went on leave, but I'd want to train my own man and not merelyaccept any youngster who was pitchforked into the Department justbecause he had a father or an uncle with a pull at Simla. Now, if youlike I'll apply for you, on condition that you'll work at Bhutanese andthe frontier dialects. I'll teach them to you."

  "I'd like nothing better, sir. I'm not bad at languages."

  "Yes, I've noticed that your Hindustani is very good and idiomatic. I'vebeen watching you and I like your manner with natives. One must besympathetic, kind and just, but also firm with them. Well, I'll tryyou. The rainy season will be on us very soon, and then all outdoor workand sport will be impossible. One dare not go into the jungle--it's toofull of malaria and blackwater fever. The planters and Forest Officershave to cage themselves in wire gauze 'mosquito houses.' During therains you'll have plenty of time to work at the languages."

  "Thank you very much, Colonel. I promise you I'll go at them hard."

  "You'll have a fellow-student for part of the time. Miss Benson's comingto stay with us during the Monsoons for a bit; and she has asked me toteach her Bhutanese, too. She wants it, as she has to deal with Bhuttiawoodcutters and hill folk generally. Well, that's fixed. Goodnight."

  "Goodnight, sir," answered the subaltern, as he lay down on the pad andstared at the stars. He was overjoyed at Colonel Dermot's offer, and ashe dropped asleep it was with a thrill of pleasure that he realised hewould see something more of the girl who had been his companion thatday.