There was a moment's consternation among the Bhuttias. Then they sprang to their feet and began to draw theirdahs. But suddenly one cried:
"The demon elephant! The devil man!"
Another and another took up the cry. Then all at once in terror they turned and plunged panic-stricken into the undergrowth. All but two—the wearer of shoes and a man with a scarred face beside him. While the rest fled they stood their ground and called vainly to their companions to come back. When they found themselves deserted the wearer of shoes pulled out a revolver and fired at Dermot, while his scarred comrade drew his sword and ran towards Noreen.
The soldier, ignoring his own danger but fearing for the girl's life, threw his rifle to his shoulder and sent a bullet crashing through her assailant's skull, then with his second barrel he shot the man with the pistol through the heart. The first raider collapsed instantly and fell in a heap, while the other, dropping his weapon, swayed for a moment, staggered forward a few feet, and fell dead.
Only then could Dermot look at Noreen. In the dramatic moment of his appearance the girl had uttered no sound, but sat rigid with her eyes fixed on him. When the swordsman rushed at her she seemed scarcely conscious of her peril but she started in terror and grew deadly pale when his companion fired at her rescuer. When both fell her tension relaxed. She sank back half-fainting in her chair and closed her eyes.
When she opened them again Badshah was kneeling a few yards away and Dermot stood beside her cutting the cords that bound her.
She looked up at him and said simply:
"I knew you would come."
With an affectation of light-heartedness that he was far from feeling he replied laughing:
"Of course you did. I am bound to turn up like the clown in the pantomime, saying, 'Here we are again.' Oh, I forgot. I am a bit late. I should have appeared on the scene when those beggars got to your bungalow."
He pretended to treat the whole affair lightly and made no further allusion to her adventure, asking no questions about it. He was afraid lest she should break down in the sudden relief from the strain and anxiety. But there was no cause to fear it. The girl was quietly brave and imitated his air of unconcern, behaving after the first moment as if they were meeting under the most ordinary circumstances. She smiled, though somewhat feebly, as she said:
"Oh, not a clown, Major Dermot. Rather the hero of a cinema drama, who always appears in time to rescue the persecuted maiden. I am beginning to feel quite like the unlucky heroine of a film play."
The cords fastening her had now been cut, so she tried to stand up but found no strength in her numbed limbs.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm—I'm rather stiff," she said, sinking back into the chair again. She felt angry at her weakness, but she was almost glad of it when she saw Dermot's instant look of concern.
"You are cramped from being tied up," he said. "Don't hurry."
The cords had chafed her wrists cruelly. He stooped to examine the abrasions, and the girl thrilled at his gentle touch. A feeling of shyness overcame her, and she turned her eyes away from his face. They fell on the bodies of the dead raiders, and she hastily averted her gaze.
"Hadn't we better hurry away from here?" she asked, apprehensively.
"No; I don't think there is any necessity. The men who ran away seemed too scared to think of returning. But still, we'll start as soon as you feel strong enough."
"What was it that they cried out?"
"Oh, merely an uncomplimentary remark about Badshah and me," he replied.
The girl made another attempt to rise and succeeded with his assistance. He lifted her on to Badshah's pad and went over to examine the dead men. After his first casual glance at the wearer of shoes he knelt down and looked closely into the face of the corpse. Then he pulled open the single garment. A thin cord consisting of three strings of spun cotton was round the body next the skin, passing over the left shoulder and under the right arm. This Dermot cut off. From inside the garment he took out some other articles, all of which he pocketed. He then searched the corpse of the scarred Bhuttia, taking a small packet tied up in cloth from the breast of the garment. Noreen watched him with curiosity and marvelled at his courage in handling the dead bodies.
He returned to the kneeling elephant and took his place on the neck.
"Hold on now, Miss Daleham," he said. "Badshah's going to rise.Uth"
Noreen gripped the surcingle rope tightly as the elephant heaved up his big body and set off along a track through the jungle at a rapid pace.
"Now we are safe enough," said Dermot, turning towards his companion. "I have not asked you yet about your adventures. Tell me all that happened to you, if you don't mind talking about it."
"Oh, it was awful," she answered, shuddering at the remembrance. "And it was all so sudden. There was a fire in the jungle near the garden, and Fred went with the others to put it out. He wouldn't let me accompany him, but told me to go for my ride in the opposite direction. I didn't stay away long. I had just returned to the bungalow and dismounted and was giving my pony a piece of sugar, when several Bhuttias rushed at me from behind the house and seized me. Poor Lalla, mysyce, tried to keep them off with his bare hands, but one brute struck him on the head with his sword. The poor boy fell, covered with blood. I'm afraid he was killed."
"No, he isn't dead," remarked Dermot. "I saw him, and I think that he'll live."
"Oh, I'm so glad to hear it," exclaimed the girl. "Ever since I saw it I've had before my eyes the dreadful sight of the poor lad lying on the ground covered with blood and apparently lifeless. Well, to go on. I called the other servants, but no one came. The Bhuttias tied my hands and tried to lift me on to my pony's back, but Kitty got frightened and bolted. Then they didn't seem to know what to do, and one went to a man who had remained at a distance from us and spoke to him. He apparently told them to fetch a chair from the bungalow and put me into it. I tried to struggle, but I was powerless in their grasp. I was fastened to the chair, poles were tied to it, and at a sign from the man who stood alone—he seemed to be the leader—I was lifted up and carried off."
"Did you notice anything about this man—the leader?" asked Dermot.
"Yes, he was not like the others in face. He didn't seem to me to be a Bhuttia at all. He was one of the two that you shot—the man with shoes. It seems absurd, but do you know, his face appeared rather familiar to me somehow. But of course I could never have seen him before."
"Are you sure that you hadn't? Think hard," said Dermot eagerly.
The girl shook her head.
"It's no use. I puzzled over the likeness most of the time that I was in their hands, but I couldn't place him."
Dermot looked disappointed.
The girl continued:
"We went through the forest for hours without stopping, except to change the bearers of my chair. I noticed that the leader spoke to one man only, the man with the scars on his face whom you shot, too, and he passed on the orders."
"Could you tell in what language these two spoke to each other?"
"No; they never talked in my hearing. In fact I noticed that the man with shoes always avoided coming near me. Well, we went on and on and never halted until we reached the place where you found us. It seemed to be a spot that they had aimed for. I saw the scarred man examining some marks on the trees in it and pointing them out to the leader, who then gave the order to stop."
"How did they behave to you?"
"No one took any notice of me. They simply carried me, lifted me up, and dumped me down as if I were a tea-chest," replied the girl. "Well, that is all my adventure. But now please tell me how you came so opportunely to my rescue. Was it by chance or did you follow us? Oh, I forgot. You said you saw Lalla, so you must have been at Malpura. Did Fred send you?"
Dermot briefly related all that had happened. When he told her of his dispute with Badshah about the route to be followed and how the elephant proved to be in the right she cried enthusiastically:
"Oh, the dear thing! He's just the most wonderful animal in the world. Forgive me for interrupting. Please go on."
When he had finished his tale there was silence between them for a little. Then Noreen said in a voice shaking with emotion:
"How can I thank you? Again you have saved me. And this time from a fate even more dreadful than the first. I'd sooner be killed outright by the elephants than endure to be carried off to some awful place by those wretches. Who were they? Were they brigands, like one reads of in Sicily? Was I to be killed or to be held to ransom?"
"Oh, the latter, I suppose," replied Dermot.
But there was a doubtful tone about his words. In fact, he was at a loss to understand the affair. It was probably not what he had thought it at first—an attempt on the part of enterprising Bhuttia raiders to carry off an Englishwoman for ransom. For when he overtook them they were on a path that led away from the mountains, so they were not making for Bhutan. And the identity of the leader perplexed him.
There could be no political motive for the outrage. The affair was a puzzle. But he put the matter aside for the time being and began to consider their position. The sun was declining, for the afternoon was well advanced. As far as he could judge they were a long way from Malpura, and it seemed to him that Badshah was not heading directly for the garden. But he had sufficient confidence in the animal's intelligence to refrain from interfering with him again. The pangs of hunger reminded him that he had had no food since the early morning cup of tea at the planter's bungalow where he had passed the night, for he had hoped to breakfast at Malpura. It occurred to him that his companion must be in the same plight.
"Are you hungry, Miss Daleham?" he asked.
"Hungry? I don't know. I haven't had time to think about food," she replied. "But I'm very thirsty."
"Would you like a cup of tea?"
"Oh, don't tantalise me, Major," she replied laughing. "I feel I'd give anything for one now. But unfortunately there aren't any tea-rooms in this wonderful jungle of yours."
Dermot smiled.
"Perhaps it could be managed," he said. "What I am concerned about is how to get something substantial to eat, for I foolishly came away from Granger's bungalow, where I stayed last night, without replenishing my stores, which had run low. I intended asking you for enough to carry me back to Ranga Duar. But when I heard what had happened—Hullo! with luck there's our dinner."
He broke off suddenly, for a jungle cock had crowed in the forest not far away.
"I wish I had a shot gun," he whispered. "But my rifle will have to do.Mul, Badshah."
He guided the elephant quietly and cautiously in the direction from which the sound had come. Presently they came to an open glade and heard the fowl crow again. Dermot halted Badshah in cover and waited. Presently there was a patter over the dry leaves lying on the ground, and a jungle cock, a bird similar to an English bantam, stalked across the glade twenty yards away. It stopped and began to peck. Dermot quietly raised his rifle and took careful aim at its head. He fired, and the body of the cock fell to the earth headless.
"What a good shot, Major!" exclaimed Noreen, who had been quite excited.
"It was an easy one, for this rifle's extremely accurate and the range was very short. I fired at the head, for if I had hit the body with such a big bullet there wouldn't have been much dinner left for us. Now I think that we shall have to halt for a little time. I know that you must be eager to get back home and relieve your brother's anxiety. But Badshah has been going for many hours on end and has not delayed to graze on the way, so it would be wise to give him a rest and a feed."
"Yes, indeed," said the girl. "He thoroughly deserves it."
She was not unwilling that the time spent in Dermot's company should be prolonged. It was a sweet and wonderful experience to be thus alone with him in the enchanted jungle. She had forgotten her fears; and the remembrance of her recent unpleasant adventure vanished in her present happiness. For she was subtly conscious of a new tenderness in his manner towards her.
The elephant sank down, and Dermot dismounted and lifted the girl off carefully. Noreen felt herself blushing as he held her in his arms, and she was thankful that he did not look at her, but when he had put her down, busied himself in taking off Badshah's pad and laying it on the ground. Unstrapping his blankets he spread one and rolled the other up as a pillow.
"Now please lie down on this, Miss Daleham," he said. "A rest will do you good, too. I am going to turn cook and show you how we fare in the jungle."
The girl took off her hat and was only too glad to stretch herself on the pad, which made a comfortable couch, for the emotions of the day had worn her out. She watched Dermot as he moved about absorbed in his task. From one pocket of the pad he took out a shallow aluminium dish and a small, round, convex iron plate. From another he drew a linen bag and a tin canister.
"You said that you would like tea, Miss Daleham," he remarked. "Well, you shall have some presently."
"Yes; but how can you make it?" she asked. "There's no water in the jungle."
"Plenty of it."
"Are we near a stream, then?"
"No; the water is all round us, waiting for me to draw it off."
The girl looked about her.
"What do you mean? I don't see any. Where is the water?"
"Hanging from the trees," he replied, laughing. "I'll admit you into one of the secrets of the jungle. But first I want a fire."
He gathered dried grass and sticks, cleared a space of earth and built three fires, two on the ground with a large lump of hard clay on either side of each, the third in a hole that he scraped out.
"To be consistent I ought to produce fire by rubbing two pieces of dried wood together, as they do in books of adventure," he said, turning to the interested girl. "It can be done. I have seen natives do it; but it is a lengthy process and I prefer a match."
He took out a box and lit the fires.
"Now," he said, "if you'll see to these for me, I'll go and get the kettle and crockery."
At the far end of the glade was a clump of bamboos. Dermot selected the biggest stem and hacked it down with hiskukri. From the thicker end he cut off a length from immediately below a knot to about a foot above it, trimmed the edges and brought it to Noreen. It made a beautifully clean and polished pot, pale green outside, white within.
"There is your kettle and tea-pot," he said.
From a thinner part he cut off similarly two smaller vessels to serve as cups.
"Now then for the water to fill the kettle," he said, looking around among the creepers festooning the trees for thepani bêl. When he found the plant he sought, he cut off a length and brought it to the girl, who had never heard of it. Asking her to hold the bamboo pot he filled it with water from the creeper, much to her astonishment.
"How wonderful!" she cried. "Is it really good to drink?"
"Perfectly."
"But how are you going to boil it?"
"In that bamboo pot."
"But surely that will burn?"
"No, the water will boil long before the green wood begins to be charred," replied Dermot, placing the pot over the first fire on the two lumps of clay, so that the flames could reach it.
Then he opened the linen bag, which Noreen found to containatta, or native flour. Some of this he poured into the round aluminium dish and with water from thepani bêlhe mixed dough, rolled it into balls, and patted them into small flat cakes. Over the second fire he placed the iron plate, convex side up, and when it grew hot put the cakes on it.
"How clever of you! You are makingchupatislike the natives do," exclaimed Noreen. "I love them. I get the cook to give them to us for tea often."
She watched him with interest and amusement, as he turned the cakes over with a dexterous flip when one side browned; then, when they were done, he took them off and piled them on a large leaf.
"Who would ever imagine that you could cook?" Noreen said, laughing. "Do let me help. I feel so lazy."
"Very well. Look after thechupatiswhile I get the fowl ready," he replied.
He cleaned the jungle cock, wrapped it up in a coating of wet clay and laid it in the hot ashes of the third fire, covering it over with the red embers.
Just as he had finished the girl cried: "The water is actually boiling? Who would have believed it possible?"
"Now we are going to have billy tea as they make it in the bush in Australia," said Dermot, opening the canister and dropping tea from it into the boiling water.
Noreen gathered up a pile of well-toastedchupatisand turned a smiling, dimpled face to him.
"This is the jolliest picnic I've ever had," she cried. "It was worth being carried off by those wretches to have all these delightful surprises. Now, tea is ready, sir. Please may I pour it out?"
He wrapped his handkerchief round the pot before handing it to her.
"I suppose you haven't a dairy in your wonderful jungle?" she asked, laughing.
"No; I'm sorry to say that you must put up with condensed milk," he replied, producing a tin from a pocket of the pad and opening it with his knife.
"What a pity! That spoils the illusion," declared the girl. "I ought to refuse it; but I'll pass it for this occasion, as I don't like my tea unsugared and milkless. No, I refuse to have a spoon." For he took out a couple and some aluminium plates from the inexhaustible pad. "I'll stir my tea with a splinter of bamboo and eat mychupatisoff leaves. It is more in keeping with the situation."
Like a couple of light-hearted children they sat side by side on the pad, drank their tea from the rude bamboo cups and devoured the hotchupatiswith enjoyment; while, invisible in the dense undergrowth, Badshah twenty yards away betrayed his presence by tearing down creepers and breaking off branches. In due time Dermot took from the hot ashes a hardened clay ball, broke it open and served up the jungle fowl, from which the feathers had been stripped off by the process of cooking. Noreen expressed herself disappointed when her companion produced knives and forks from the magic pockets of the pad.
"We ought to be consistent and use our fingers," she said.
When they had finished their meal, which the girl declared was the most enjoyable one that she had ever had, Dermot made her rest again on the pad while he cleaned and replaced his plates, cutlery, and cooking vessels. Then, leaning his back against a tree, he filled and lit his pipe, while Noreen watched him stealthily and admiringly. In the perfect peace and silence of the forest encompassing them she felt reluctant to leave the enchanted spot.
But suddenly the charm was rudely dispelled. A shot rang out close by, and Dermot's hat was knocked from his head as a bullet passed through it and pierced the bark of the tree half an inch above his hair. As though the shot were a signal, fire was opened on the glade from every side, and for a moment the air seemed full of whistling bullets. The soldier sprang to Noreen, picked her up like a child in his arms, and ran with her to an enormously thicksimaltree, behind which he placed her. Then he gathered up the pad and piled it on her exposed side as some slight protection. At least it hid her from sight.
As he did so the firing redoubled in intensity and bullets whistled and droned through the glade. One grazed his cheek, searing the flesh as with a red-hot iron. Another wounded him slightly in the neck, while a third cut the skin of his thigh. He seemed to bear a charmed life; and the girl watching him felt her heart stop, as the blood showed on his face and neck. The flying lead sent leaves fluttering to the ground, cut off twigs, and struck the tree-trunks with a thud. Flinging himself at full length on the ground Dermot reached his rifle, then crawled to shelter behind another tree.
He looked eagerly around for his assailants. At first he could see no one. Suddenly through the undergrowth about thirty yards away the muzzle of an old musket was pushed out, and then a dark face peered cautiously behind it. The eyes in it met Dermot's, but that glance was their last. The soldier's rifle spoke, and the face disappeared as its owner's body pitched forward among the bushes and lay still. At the sharp report of the white man's weapon the firing all around ceased suddenly. But the intense silence that followed was broken by a strange sound like the shrill blast of a steam whistle mingled with the crackling of sheets of tin rapidly shaken and doubled. Noreen, crouching submissively in the shelter where Dermot had placed her, thrilled and wondered at the uncanny sound.
The soldier knew well what it was. It was Badshah's appeal for help, and he wondered why the animal had given it then, so late. But far away a wild elephant trumpeted in reply. There was a crashing in the undergrowth as Badshah dashed away and burst through the cordon of enemies encircling them. Dermot's heart sank; for, although he rejoiced that his elephant was out of danger, his sole hope of getting Noreen and himself away had lain in running the gauntlet on the animal's back through their invisible foes.
As he gripped his rifle, keenly alert for a mark to aim at, his thoughts were busy. He was amazed at this unexpected attack and utterly unable to guess who their assailants could be. They were not the Bhuttias again, for those had no guns. And the man that he had just shot was not a mountaineer. Although it was evident that the firearms used were mostly old smooth-bore muskets, and the smoke from the powder rose in clouds over the undergrowth and drifted to the tree-tops, he had detected the sharp crack of a modern rifle occasionally among the duller reports of the more ancient weapons. The mysterious attackers were apparently numerous and completely surrounded them. Dermot cursed himself for his folly in halting for food instead of pushing on to safety without a stop. But he had calculated on the superstitious fears of the Bhuttias who had been scared away by the sight of him and Badshah; and indeed to all appearance he was right in so doing. He could not reckon on new enemies springing up around them. Who could they be? It was almost inconceivable that in this quiet corner of the Indian Empire two English people could be thus assailed. The only theory that he could form was that the attackers were a band of Bengali politicaldacoits.
The firing started again. Dermot appeared to be so well hidden that none of their enemies had discovered him, except the one unlucky wretch whose courage had proved his ruin. The shots were being fired at random and all went high. But there seemed no hope of escape; for it was evident from the sounds and the smoke that the girl and he were completely surrounded. For one wild moment he thought of rising suddenly to his feet and making a dash through the cordon, hoping to draw all their enemies after him and give his companion a chance of escape. But the plan was futile; for she would never find her way alone through the jungle and would fall at once into the hands of her foes.
Suddenly a heavy bullet struck the tree a foot above his head, evidently fired from behind him. He instantly rolled over on his back and lay motionless with his eyes half-closed, looking in the direction from which the shot must have come. The bushes not ten yards away were parted quietly; and a head was thrust out. With a swift motion Dermot swung his rifle round until the muzzle pointed over his toes and, holding the weapon in one hand like a pistol, fired point-blank at the assailant who had crept up quietly behind him. Shot through the head the man pitched forward on his face, almost touching the soldier's feet. Dermot saw that the corpse was that of a low-caste Hindu, clad only in a dirty cottonkoortaanddhoti. A Tower musket lay beside him.
The wild firing died down again. The sun was setting; and the soldier judged that the attackers were probably waiting for darkness to rush him. Why they did not do so at once, since they were so numerous, surprised him; but he surmised that it was lack of courage. It was maddening to be obliged to await their pleasure. He was far more concerned about the girl than for himself. A feeling of dread pity filled his heart when he thought of what her fate would be when he was no longer alive to protect her. Should he kill her, he asked himself, and give her a swift and merciful death instead of the horrors of outrage and torture that would probably be her lot if she fell alive into the hands of these murderous scoundrels? In those moments of tension and terrible strain he realised that she was very dear to him, that she evoked in his heart a feeling that no other woman had ever aroused in him.
The sun was going down; and with it Dermot felt that his life was passing. He grudged losing it in an obscure and causeless scuffle, instead of on an honourable field of battle as a soldier should. He wished that he had a handful of his splendid sepoys with him. They would have made short work of a hundred of such ruffians as now threatened him. But it was useless to long for them. He drew hiskukriand laid it on the ground beside him, ready for the last grim struggle. He had resolved to crawl to the girl when darkness settled on the forest, and, before the rush came, give her the chance of a swift and honourable death, shoot her if she chose it—as he was confident that she would—then close with his foes until death came.
The light grew fainter. Dermot nerved himself for the terrible task before him and was about to move, when with a light and unfaltering step Noreen came to him.
Dermot dragged the girl down to the ground beside him as a shot rang out.
"I suppose they will kill us, Major Dermot," she said calmly. "But couldn't you manage to get away in the darkness? You know the jungle so well. Please don't hesitate to leave me, for I should only hamper you. Won't you go?"
Emotion choked the soldier for a moment. He gripped her arm and was about to speak when suddenly the forest on every side of them resounded to a pandemonium of noise: a chorus of wild shrieks, shots, the crashing of trampled undergrowth, the death-yells of men amid the savage screams and fierce trumpetings of a herd of elephants.
"Oh, what's that? What terrible thing is happening?" cried the girl.
Dermot seized her and dragged her close against the trunk of the tree. In the gloom they saw men flying madly past them pursued by elephants. One wretch not ten yards from them was overtaken by a great tusker, which struck him to the ground, trampled on him, kicked and knelt upon his lifeless body until it was crushed to a pulp, then placing one forefoot on the man's chest, wound his trunk round the legs and seized them in his mouth, tore them from the body, and threw them twenty yards away. All around similar tragedies were being enacted; for the herd of wild elephants had charged in among the attackers.
Dermot gathered the terrified girl in his arms and held her face against his breast, so that she should be spared the horror of the sights about them; but he could not shut out the terrible sounds, the agonised shrieks, the despairing yells of the wretches who were meeting with an awful fate. He remained motionless against the tree, hoping to escape the notice of the fierce animals, whom he could see plunging through the jungle in pursuit of their prey, for they were hunting the men down. Suddenly one elephant came straight towards them with trunk uplifted. Dermot put the girl behind him and raised his rifle; but with a low murmur from its throat the animal lowered its trunk, and he recognised it.
"Thank God! we are saved," he said. "It's Badshah. He has brought his herd to our rescue."
The girl clung to him convulsively and scarcely heard him; for the tumult in the jungle still continued, though the terrible pursuit seemed to be passing farther away. The giant avengers were still crashing through the jungle after their prey; and an occasional heartrending shriek told of another luckless wretch who had met his doom.
Dermot gently disengaged the clinging hands and repeated his words. The girl, still shuddering, made an effort and rose to her knees.
Dermot went forward and laid his hand on the elephant's trunk.
"Thank you, Badshah," he said. "I am in your debt again."
The tip of the trunk touched his face in a gentle caress. Then he stepped back and said: "Now we'll go at once, Miss Daleham. We won't stop this time until we reach your bungalow."
The girl had already recovered her courage and stood beside him.
"But you are wounded. There's blood on your face and on your neck. Are you badly hurt?"
Dermot laughed reassuringly.
"To tell you the truth I had forgotten all about it. They are only scratches. The skin is cut, that's all. Come, we mustn't delay any longer."
At a word from him Badshah knelt. He hurriedly threw the pad on the elephant's back and made him rise so that the surcingle rope could be fixed. Then he brought the animal to his knees again and lifted Noreen on to the pad. But before he took his own seat he searched the undergrowth around the glade and found many corpses of men almost unrecognisable as human bodies, so crushed and battered were they. From the number that he came upon it was evident that most of their assailants had been slain. But all the elephants except his had disappeared; and the sounds of the massacre were dying away.
Slinging his rifle he climbed on to the pad; and Badshah rose and went swiftly along a track that seemed to Dermot to lead towards Malpura. He did not attempt to guide the elephant, but placed himself so that his body would shield the girl from the danger of being struck by overhanging boughs. He held her firmly as they were borne through the darkness that now filled the forest; for the swift-coming Indian night had fallen.
"Keep well down, Miss Daleham," he said. "You must be on your guard against being swept off the pad by the low branches."
"Oh, Major Dermot," cried the girl with a shudder, "have all these terrible things really happened in the last few hours or has it all been a hideous nightmare?"
"Please try not to think of them," he answered. "You are safe now."
"Yes; but you? You have to face these dangers again, since you are so much in the jungle. Oh, my forest that I thought a fairyland! That such terrible things can happen in it!"
"I can assure you that they are very unusual," he replied with a cheery laugh. "You have been very fortunate; for you have crammed more excitement and adventure into one day than I have seen previously in all my time in the jungle."
"It all seems so incredible," she said. "Did you really mean that Badshah brought his herd to our rescue? But I know he did. I heard him call them. When he ran off I thought that he was frightened and had abandoned us. But I did him a great injustice."
Her companion was silent for a moment. Then he said:
"Look here, Miss Daleham, we had better not tell that tale of Badshah quite in that way. It would seem impossible, and no European would credit it. Natives would, of course, for as it is they seem to look upon him as a god already."
"Yes; but you think as I do, don't you?" she exclaimed in surprise. "Surely you believe that he did bring the other elephants to save us."
"Yes, I do. I know that he did, for I—well, between ourselves I have seen him do even more wonderful things. But others wouldn't believe us, and I don't want to emphasise the marvellous part of the story. I'd rather people thought that thedacoits, or whoever those men were who attacked us, accidentally fell foul of a herd of wild elephants."
"Perhaps you are right. Butweknow. It will be just our own secret and Badshah's," she said dreamily.
Then she relapsed into silence. In spite of the terrible experiences through which she had just passed she felt happy at the pressure of Dermot's arm about her and the sensation of being utterly alone with him in a world of their own, as they were borne on through the darkness. Fatigue made her drowsy, and the swaying motion of the elephant's pace lulled her to sleep.
She woke suddenly and for an instant wondered where she was. Then remembrance came and she felt the warm blood mantle her face as she realised that she was nestling in Dermot's arms. But, drowsy and content, she did not move. Looking up she saw the stars overhead. They were out of the forest.
"I must have been asleep," she said. "Where are we?"
"At Malpura. There are the lights of your bungalow," replied Dermot. He said it almost with regret, for he had found the long miles through the forest almost short, while the girl nestled confidingly, though unconsciously, in his arms and he held her against his heart.
As the elephant neared the house Dermot gave a loud shout.
Instantly the verandah filled with men who rushed out of the lighted rooms and tried to pierce the darkness. A little distance from the bungalow a large number of coolies, seated on the ground, rose up and pressed forward to the road. From behind the house several white-clad servants ran out.
Dermot shouted again and called out Daleham's name.
There was a frantic rush down the verandah steps.
"Hurrah! it's the Major," cried a planter.
"And—and—yes, Miss Daleham's with him. Hooray!" yelled another.
"Good old Dermot!" came in Payne's voice.
Through the throng of shouting, excited men the girl's brother broke.
"Noreen! Noreen! My God, are you there? Are you safe?" he cried frantically.
Almost before Badshah sank to the ground, the girl, with a little sob, sprang into her brother's arms and clung to him, while Dermot was dragged off the pad by the eager hands of a dozen men who thumped him on the back, pulled him from one to another, and nearly shook his arm off. The servants had brought out lamps to light up the scene.
From the verandah steps Chunerbutty looked jealously on. He had been relieved at knowing that the girl had returned, but in his heart he cursed the man who had saved her. He was roughly thrust aside by Parry, who dashed up the steps, ran into the house, and emerged a minute later holding a large tumbler in his hand.
"Where is he, where is he? Look you, I know what he wants. Here's what will do you good, Major," he shouted.
Dermot laughed and, taking the tumbler, drank its contents gratefully, though their strength made him cough, for the bibulous Celt had mixed it to his own taste.
"Major, Major, how can we thank you?" said Fred Daleham, coming to him with his sister clinging to his arm.
But she had to release him and shake hands over and over again with all the planters and receive their congratulations and expressions of delight at seeing her safe and sound. Meanwhile her brother was endeavouring in the hubbub to thank her rescuer. But Dermot refused to listen.
"Oh, there's nothing to make a fuss about I assure you, Daleham," he said. "It was just that I had the luck to be the first to follow the raiders. Any one else would have done the same."
"Oh, nonsense, old man," broke in Payne, clapping him on the back. "Of course we'd all have liked to do it, but none of us could have tracked the scoundrels like you could. How did you do it?"
"Yes; tell us what happened, Major."
"How did you find her, Dermot?"
"What occurred, Miss Daleham?"
"Did they put up a fight, sir?"
The eager mob of men poured a torrent of questions on the girl and her rescuer.
"Easy on, you fellows," said Dermot, laughing. "Give us time. We can't answer you all at once."
"Yes, give them a chance, boys. Don't crowd," cried one planter.
"Here! We can't see them. Let's have some light," shouted another.
"Where are those servants? Bring out all the lamps!"
"Lamps be hanged! Let's have a decent blaze. We'll have a bonfire."
Several of the younger planters ran to the stable and outhouses and brought piles of straw, old boxes, anything that would burn. Others despatched coolies to the factory near by to fetch wood, broken chests, and other fuel. Several bonfires were made and the flames lit up the scene with a blaze of light.
"Why, you're wounded, Dermot!" exclaimed Payne.
"Oh, no. Just a scratch."
"Yes, he is wounded, but he pretends it's nothing," said Noreen. "Do see if it's anything serious, Mr. Payne."
"I assure you it's nothing," protested the soldier, resisting eager and well-meant attempts to drag him into the house and tend his hurts by force. But attention was diverted when a planter cried:
"Good Heavens! what's this? The elephant's tusk is covered with blood."
"Tusk! Why, he's blood to the eyes," exclaimed another.
For the leaping flames revealed the fact that Badshah's tusk, trunk, and legs were covered with freshly-dried blood.
"Good Heavens! he's been wading in it."
"What's that on his tusk? Why, it's fragments of flesh. Oh, the deuce!"
There were exclamations of surprise and horror from the white men. But the mass of coolies, who had been pressing forward to stare, drew back into the darkness and muttered to each other.
"The god! The god! Who can withstand the god?" they whispered.
"Arhé, bhai! (Aye, brother!) But which is the god? The elephant or his rider? Tell me that!" exclaimed a grey-haired coolie.
Among the Europeans the questions showered on Dermot redoubled.
"Look here, you fellows. I can't answer you all at once," he expostulated. "It's a long story. But please remember that Miss Daleham has had a tiring day and must be worn out."
"Oh, no, I'm not," exclaimed the girl. "Not now. I was fatigued, but I'm too excited to rest yet."
"Come into the bungalow everyone and we'll have the whole story there," said her brother. "The servants will get supper ready for us. We must celebrate tonight."
"Indeed, yes. Look you, it shall be very wet tonight in Malpura, whateffer," cried Parry, who was already half drunk. "Here, boy! Boy! Where is that damned black beastie of mine? Boy!"
Hiskhitmagardisengaged himself from the group of servants and approached apprehensively, keeping out of reach of his master's fist.
"Go to the house," said Parry to him in Bengali. "Bring liquor here. All the liquor I have. Hurry, you dog!"
He aimed a blow at him, which thekhitmagardodged with the ease of long practice and ran to execute his master's bidding.
Daleham gave directions to his butler and cook to prepare supper, and led the way into the house with his arm round his sister, who, woman-like, escaped to change her dress and make herself presentable, as she put it. She had already forgotten the fatigues of the day in the hearty welcome and the joy of her safe home-coming.
But before Dermot entered the bungalow he had water brought and washed from Badshah's head and legs the evidences of the terrible vengeance that he had taken upon their assailants. And from the verandah the planters looked at animal and master and commented in low tones on the strange tales told of both, for the reputation of mysterious power that they enjoyed with natives had reached every white man of the district.
The crowd of coolies drifted away to their village on the tea-garden, and there throughout the hot night hours the groups sat on the ground outside the thatched bamboo huts and talked of the animal and the man.
"It is not well to cross this sahib who is not as other sahibs," said a coolie, shaking his head solemnly.
"Sahib, say you? Is he only a sahib?" asked an old man. "Is he truly of thegora logue(white folk)?"
"Why, what else is he? Is not his skin white?" said a youth, presumptuously thrusting himself into the conclave of the elders.
"Peace! Since when was it meet for children to prattle in the presence of their grandsires?" demanded a grey-haired coolie contemptuously. "Know, boy, that Shri Krishn's skin was of the same colour when he moved among us on earth."
Krishna, the Second Person of the Hindu Trinity, the best-loved god of all their mythological heaven, is represented in the cheap coloured oleographs sold in the bazaars in India as being of fair complexion.
"Is he Krishna himself?" asked a female coolie eagerly, the glass bangles on her arm rattling as she raised her hand to draw hersariover her face when she thus addressed men. "Is he Krishna, think you? He is handsome enough to be the Holy One."
"Who knows, daughter? It may be. Shri Krishn has many incarnations," said the old man solemnly.
"Nay, I do not think that he is Krishna," remarked an elderly coolie. "It may be that he is another of the Holy Ones."
"Perhaps he isGunesh," ventured a younger man.
"No; he bestridesGunesh. I think he must be Krishna," chimed in another. "What lesser god would dare to use Gunesh as his steed?"
"He isGuneshhimself," asserted a grey-beard. "Does he not range the jungle and the mountains at the head of all the elephants of the Terai? Can he not call them to his aid as Hanuman did the monkeys?"
"He is certainly a Holy One or else a very powerful demon," declared the old man. "It is an evil and a dangerous thing to molest those whom he protects. The Bhuttias, ignorant pagans that they are, carried off the missiebabahe favours. What, think ye, has been their fate? With your own eyes ye have all seen the blood and the flesh of men upon the tusk and legs of his sacred elephant."
And so through the night the shuttle of superstitious talk went backward and forward and wove a still more marvellous garment of fancy to drape the reputation of elephant and man. The godship that the common belief had long endowed Badshah with was being transferred to his master; and a mere Indian Army Major was transformed into a mysterious Hindu deity.
Meanwhile in the well-lighted bungalow in which all the sahibs were gathered together the servants were hurriedly preparing a supper such as lonely Malpura had never known. And Noreen's pretty drawing-room was crowded with men in riding costume or in uniform—for most of the planters belonged to a Volunteer Light Horse Corps, and some of them, expecting a fight, had put on khaki when they got Daleham's summons. Their rifles, revolvers, and cartridge belts were piled on the verandah. Chunerbutty, feeling that his presence among them would not be welcomed by the white men that night, had gone off to his own bungalow in jealous rage. And nobody missed him. Dermot, despite his protests, had been dragged off to have his hurts attended to, and it was then seen that he had been touched by three bullets.
When all were assembled in the room the planters demanded the tale of Noreen's adventures; and the girl, looking dainty and fresh in a white muslin dress, unlike the heroine of her recent tragic experience, smilingly complied and told the story up to the point of Dermot's unexpected and dramatic intervention.
"Now you must go on, Major," she said, turning to him.
"Yes, yes, Dermot. Carry on the tale," was the universal cry.
Everyone turned an expectant face towards where the soldier sat, looking unusually embarrassed.
"Oh, there's nothing much to tell," he said. "The raiders—they were Bhuttias—had left a trail easy enough to see, though I confess that I would have lost it once but for my elephant. When I came up to them, as Miss Daleham has just told you, they all ran away except two."
"What did these two do?" asked Granger, his host of the previous night.
"Not much. They tried to stand their ground, but didn't really give much trouble. So I took Miss Daleham up on my elephant and we started back. But like a fool I stopped on the way to have grub, and somebody began shooting at us from the jungle, until wild elephants turned up and cleared them off. Then we came on here. That's all."
These was a moment's silence. Then Granger, in disgusted tones, exclaimed:
"Well, Major, of all the poor story-tellers I've ever heard, you're the very worst. One would think you'd only been for a stroll in a quiet English lane. 'Then we came on here. That's all.'"
"Oh, yes, you can't ask us to believe it was as tame as that, Major," said another planter. "We expected to hear something a little more exciting."
"You go out after thirty or forty raiders—"
"No, only twenty-two all told," corrected Dermot.
"All right, only twenty-two, come back with three hits on you and your elephant up to his eyes in blood and—and—well, hang it all, Major, let's have some more details."
"Come, Miss Daleham," Payne broke in, "you tell us what happened. I know Dermot, and we won't get any more out of him."
"Yes; let's hear all about it, Noreen," said her brother. "I'm sure it wasn't as tame as the Major says."
"Tame?" echoed the girl, smiling. "I've had enough excitement to last me all my life, dear. I think that Major Dermot has put it rather mildly. I'm sure even I could tell the story better."
She narrated their adventures, giving her rescuer, despite his protests, full credit for his courage and resource, only omitting the details of their picnic meal and slurring over their relief by the wild elephants. The planters listened eagerly to her tale, breaking into applause at times. When she had finished Parry laid a heavy hand on Dermot's shoulder and said solemnly, though thickly:
"Look you, you are a bad liar, Major Dermot. Your story would not deceive a child, whateffer. But I am proud of you. You should have been a Welshman."
The rest overwhelmed the soldier with compliments and congratulations, much to his embarrassment, and when Noreen left the room to supervise the arrangement of the supper-table they plied him with questions without extracting much more information from him. But when a servant came to announce that the meal was ready and the planters rose to troop to the dining-room, Dermot reached the door first and held up his hand to stop them.
"Gentlemen, one moment, please," he said. Then he looked out to satisfy himself that the domestic was out of hearing and continued: "I'd be obliged if during supper you'd make no allusion before the servants to what has happened today. Afterwards I shall have something to say to you in confidence that will explain this request of mine."
The others looked at him in surprise but readily agreed. Before they left the room Daleham noticed the Hindu engineer's absence for the first time.
"By Jove, I'd forgotten Chunerbutty," he exclaimed. "I wonder where he is? Perhaps he doesn't know we're going to have supper. I'd better send the boy to tell him."
"Indeed no, he is fery well where he is," hiccoughed Parry, who, seated by a table on which drinks had been placed, had not been idle. "This is not a night for black men, look you."
"Yes, Daleham, Parry's right," said Granger. "Let us keep to our own colour tonight. Things might be said that wouldn't be pleasant for an Indian to hear."
"Forgive my putting a word in, Daleham," added Dermot. "But I have a very particular reason, which I'll explain afterwards, for asking you to leave Chunerbutty out."
"Yes, we don't want a damned Bengali among us tonight, Fred," said a young planter bluntly.
"Oh, very well; if you fellows would rather I didn't ask him I won't," replied their host. "But I'm afraid his feelings will be hurt at being left out when we're celebrating my sister's safe return. He's such an old friend."
"Oh, hang his feelings! Think of ours," cried another of the party.
"All right. Have it your own way. Let's go in to supper," said the host.
The hastily improvised meal was a merry feast, and the loud voices and the roars of laughter rang out into the silent night and reached the ears of Chunerbutty sitting in his bungalow eating his heart out in bitterness and jealousy. Noreen, presiding at one end of the long table, was the queen of the festival and certainly had never enjoyed any supper in London as much as this impromptu meal. General favourite as she always was with every man in the district, this night there was added universal gladness at her escape and the feeling of satisfaction that the outrage on her had been so promptly avenged. While the girl was pleased with the warmth and sincerity of the congratulations showered upon her, she was secretly delighted to see the high esteem in which all the other men held Dermot. He was seated beside her and shared with her the good wishes of the company. His health was drunk with all the honours after hers, and the planters did not spare his blushes in their loudly-expressed praises of his achievements. Cordiality and good humour prevailed, and, although the fun was fast and furious, Parry was the only one who drank too much. Before he became objectionable, for he was usually quarrelsome in his cups, he was dexterously cajoled out of the room and safely shepherded to his bungalow.