_The Hunting Cheetah_
Since Bhanah and Nels had come to him, Skag had fallen into the way of
taking Nels out quite early for a full day's tramp through the broken
shelving Ghats. (This helped to bear the weight of the days till
Carlin's eldest brother should reach Poona.) The contours were
different from anything he had seen along the top or toward the sea; as
if in the beginning the whole range had been dropped on the planet and
its own weight had shattered the eastern side, to settle from the
cracks or roll over upon the plains. Nels would travel close beside
him for hours; but if he ever did break away, Skag had only to call
quietly, "Nels, steady!" and Nels would return joyfully. He never
sulked.
Every morning now, Bhanah carefully stowed in Skag's coat, neat packets
of good and sufficient food for himself and the dog at noontime. Skag
had never been cared for in his life; he had neither training nor
inclination to direct a servant. But there was no need. Bhanah knew
perfectly well what was right to be done; and he was committed with his
whole heart to do it.
The order of Skag's life was being softly changed; but he only knew his
servant did many kind things for him which were very comfortable. He
was a little bothered when Bhanah called him "My Master"--having not
yet learned that servants in India never use that title, excepting in
affection which has nothing to do with servitude.
The morning came, when Roderick Deal arrived. Carlin had said that all
arrangements must be made with her eldest brother; and some tone within
her tone had impressed Skag with concern which amounted to
apprehension. But when he walked into Roderick Deal's office and met
the hand of Carlin's eldest brother--there was a light in his eye which
that Indian Sahib found good to see.
Roderick Deal overtopped the American by two inches. He was slender
and lithe. His countenance was extraordinary to Skag's eye for its
peculiar pallor; as if the dense black hair cast a shadow on intensely
white flesh--especially below the temples and across the forehead.
There was attraction; there was power. Skag saw this much while he
found the eyes; then he saw little else. He decided that Sanford
Hantee had never seen really black eyes before; the size startled him,
but the blackness shocked. (It was in the fortune of his life that he
should never solve the mystery of those eyes.) Skag felt the impact of
dynamic force, before he spoke:
"You will not expect enthusiasm from me, my son, when as the head of
one of the proudest families in all India, I render official consent,
upon conditions, to your marriage with my sister Carlin. . . . You are
too different from other men."
Skag had something to say, but he found no words.
"You are to be informed that the only sister of seven brothers is a
most important person. She is called the Seal of Fortune in India;
which is to say that good fortune for all her brothers is vested in
her. If calamity befalls her, there is no possible escape for them.
This is the established tradition of our Indian ancestors.
"We smile among ourselves at this tradition, as much as you do; but
there are reasons why we choose to preserve it, among many things from
those same Indian ancestors. We have no cause to hate them. Hate is
not in our family as in others of our class; but we never forget that
it is _our class_."
The brooding pain in the man was a revelation. Carlin had said, ". . .
there are things you must understand."
"You are already aware that we are English and Indian. But you do not
conceive what that means. It is my duty to speak. All life appears to
me first from the English standpoint; but you see the _shadow of India
under my skin_. All life appears to my sister first in the Indian
concept; but you will not easily find the shadow of India under her
skin. We have one brother--darker than the average native. . . . Are
you prepared to find such colour in one of your own?"
The question was gently spoken, but the eyes were like destiny.
"Any child of hers will be good to me," Skag answered softly.
A glow loomed in the blacknesses and Roderick Deal flashed Skag a smile
which reminded him, at last, of Carlin.
"European men, in the early days, were responsible for the branding,
now carried by thousands in India--carried with shame and the bitterest
sort of curses. But our line is unique in this regard. We are
conditioned by a pride, as great as the shame I have spoken of. On
account of it, no one of us may enter marriage without public ceremony
of as much circumstance as is expedient."
The storm-lights had gone down and a half-deprecatory, half-embarrassed
expression, made the face look so quite like any other man's, that Skag
smiled.
". . . Because we are descended from two extraordinary romances, both
of which were celebrated by the marriage of an imperial Indian
woman--one Brahmin, one Rajput--with a British man of noble family--one
Scotch, one Irish. Carlin will tell you the stories; she loves them."
Again the smile like Carlin's.
"So she must come down to Poona, where she was born; and the ceremony
must be performed in the cathedral here, by the Bishop himself--who is
a real man by the way, as well as distinguished."
. . . That was all right.
"You are to be published at the time of your marriage, in all the
English and vernacular printed sheets throughout India, specifically as
a scientist whose research will take you much into jungle life."
Roderick Deal paused for reply. Skag considered a moment and said
tentatively:
"If my work will come under that head?"
"Oh, quite! there is no question. And now I am come to the explanation
of my delay. There have been preparations to make; dealings with
Indian government. As you will understand, Government would be
entirely unapproachable by any man himself desiring such an
appointment. But influence is able to set in operation the examination
of his records; and if they are good enough, the rest can be
accomplished.
"Carlin convinced me that you would make no serious protest; and I am
assuring you that these conditions are really good fortune to you. But
they are imperative; it must be this way or not at all."
Skag was given opportunity to speak, but he had nothing to say, yet.
"You must enter the service of Indian government in the department of
Natural Research. The appointment will give you distinction not to be
scorned and a salary better than my own--which is very good."
After a moment's thought, Skag said:
"Will it tie me up?"
"Not in the least. On the contrary, it will make you free."
"What about my obligations?"
"Your obligations will be entirely vested in reports, which you will
turn in at your discretion. I understand that you already have
materials which would be considered highly valuable. Also, I hear that
you have fallen heir to Nels, the great hunting dog. Of the four that
are well known, he is easily the best. And he is young; he will bring
you experiences out of the jungle such as no man could find alone.
What the Indian Research department wants, is _knowledge of animals_."
"That's exactly what I want."
"Your Department will facilitate you, immensely. I speak positively,
because the initial work is finished; there remains nothing, but that
you shall come with me to the department offices and become enrolled.
However, not before you are properly outfitted. My tailoring-house
will take care of you."
"A uniform?"
"Not a uniform exactly, but strictly correct; rather military, but more
hunting; perfectly suitable and very comfortable. You'll be quite at
home in it. It's the sort for you."
The eyes measured Skag's outlines appraisingly, but betrayed nothing.
"We have not finished. The matter of clothing is adjacent to another
not less important. A foreigner in this country is nothing better than
a wild man, without a servant."
"I have one--" Skag spoke with inward satisfaction: "--Bhanah the old
cook, who did serve Police--"
"Not Police Commissioner Hichens' _Bhanah_?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"He came to me."
"Did you negotiate with him?"
"No."
"Then will you kindly tell me, why?"
"I do not know."
There was a marked pause. The eyes had become wide.
"Well--really . . . _Are_ you the sort-of-thing I've been hearing
about?"
Roderick Deal's expression was kindly-quaint; and Skag answered the
look rather than the words:
"How should I know what that is?"
"You _have_ astonished me. And I am pleased. From Bombay to Calcutta
and from Himalaya to Madras--you will find no more valuable man, than
that same Bhanah. He is called old, but he is not old. If you have
noticed, the term is always spoken as if it were one with his
name--because of his learning. He is the man of men for you. _How_
did he come to you?"
"He brought Nels with the note, that the dog was a gift. When he
spoke, he said he was committed before the gods to serve me as long as
he lived."
"How did his voice sound?"
"A queer, level tone."
"There is no doubt. _It is enough for one day_."
The words were spoken with almost affectionate inflections. Skag was
puzzled. Roderick Deal stepped to the door and spoke to a servant;
returning to his seat, he smiled openly into Skag's eyes before
speaking:
"Now you will come with me. We must lose no time."
"Yes, I want to get back to Hurda as soon as I can."
"Not before the monsoon breaks. It is due any day now, any hour. Till
ten days after it has broken, no sane man will take train."
"I want to get back. I think I will risk it."
"You will pardon me, you are not allowed."
The tone was perfect authority. The eyes smouldered, but the lips
smiled.
"You are not used to be in any way conditioned, I understand that; but
I am not willing to be responsible to my only sister for the smashed
body of her one man. Oh, I assure you _not_! And you may one day
grant that the guardianship of an elder brother is not a bad thing to
have. Why--I beg your pardon, but of course you are not here long
enough to know the situation."
He stopped abruptly and looked away, considering.
"I will put it in one word and tell you that _one_ moment _any_ train,
on _any_ track, may be perfectly safe; and the next moment, it may be
going down the khud with half a mountain. Again, we exercise the
utmost care in all bridge-building--with no reservation of resources;
but almost every year a bridge or more goes with the crash."
"The crash?"
"The reason why we say the great monsoon 'breaks' is not because itself
breaks, but because--whatever happens to be underneath, you understand."
The floor of protest had dropped away. Skag's face said as much.
"The tailors will need till the rails are safe to get you fitted; and
before the monsoon comes, I suggest that you take your hunter up into
the cheetah hills. Cheetahs are not supposed, by those at Home, to
attack men. Many of them will not; but they are unreliable. The
forfeits they have taken from unbelief have made them a bad reputation,
among the English."
"The cheetahs I have seen in cages have been mild, compared with
tigers."
"Cheetah kittens are snared and broken at once by hard handling;
meaning that it is not the cheetah himself, but what is left of him,
one sees either in the kennels of the princes or in the foreign cages.
You will remember my warning about his character?"
"Thank you, yes."
"Good. I have known men to prefer not . . . Then you will carry
yourself alert in any kind of jungle. If you sight a cheetah, be
prepared; he may _not_ attack. He may. Few men have eyes good enough
to follow him after his first spring. One should be a perfect shot;
are you that?"
"I am a good shot, but I don't like to kill animals."
"Then I am the last man to commend you to the cheetah hills . . . if it
were not for Nels. He is entirely competent to take care of you,
unless in one possible emergency. They sometimes, but rarely, work in
pairs. If ever the dog should be occupied with one and another should
be in _sight_--be sure your unwillingness to kill does not delay you to
the instant of charge."
"You imply that it is necessary to carry a gun in any kind of
jungle--always?"
"Always wise, of _course_; but I consider it less imperative just now,
because the animals are not what we call fighting. They are waiting
for the great monsoon. So--you might take your dog up into the cheetah
hills--"
"I don't see how a dog--"
"He'll break the cheetah's back and cut his throat, before the real
start is made at you. But Bhanah will tell you whatever; and he is
entirely reliable. You may depend upon him, without reservation."
"That's a big thing to know."
"India has many good servants, but Bhanah is a rare man."
The unquenchable fires in Roderick Deal's eyes began to feed upon some
enigma in Skag's own; he endured it a moment and then interruption
became expedient:
"Does the monsoon come on schedule?"
"It does."
"What is it like?"
"It is as much an experience as a spectacle. I'm not attempting to
describe the thing itself; it should be seen. But across the
southwestern part of India, it includes the procession of the animals.
All animals from all covers, running together."
"There is something like that in the far north of America," Skag said.
"It is called the passage of the Barren Ground Caribou. They move
south before the first winter storms in thousands. I've heard that
sometimes their lines extend out of sight. They have no food, but they
do not stop to forage. Our northern hunters say that nothing will stop
them."
"That's interesting; immensely. I've not heard of it."
"But I didn't mean to interrupt you."
"Our creatures move in a trance of panic, straight away from the coming
rains. I say a trance, because they appear to be oblivious of each
other; hunter and hunted go side by side, without noticing."
The drive of Skag's life-quest was working in him, as if nothing had
ever given it pause.
"Do they go fast?"
"The timid and lumbering come out first, hurrying; they increase in
numbers, all sorts, and run faster till those near the end go at top
speed--it's a thing to see. Bhanah will tell you when and where to
watch it; but be careful and get under good roofing in time. And then,
after the tracks are set right, if you must reach Hurda in order to
come back with Carlin . . . Man, God help you if you do not give my
sister the best of your gifts!"
"Why, I belong to her--"
Their hands met; and Skag's soul rose up without words, to answer a
white flame in the inscrutable eyes.
Early the following morning, Sanford Hantee Sahib said to his servant:
"Bhanah, what do you know about cheetahs?"
"Such little things as a man may know, Sahib."
"Are you willing to give some of it to me?"
"All that I am and all that I can, belongs to my master."
"Is that--the regular--"
"Nay, _nay_! It is right for my master to consider, that I serve him
not for a price. This is true service--as men in my land bring to
things holy. Those who serve for the weight of silver, render the
weight of their hands."
"I don't want you to begin thinking that I'm holy though--you
understand that."
"There are meanings which will appear to the Sahib in time; it is not
suitable that they come from me. But this much may be spoken: if my
master serves in a great service--then I, who am a poor man and
ignorant, may give something if I serve him."
"If that's what you mean, it's all right. Then we won't go out this
morning, Nels and I. It'll be the time to get some of that little
knowledge of yours about cheetahs."
It seemed to Skag that the uncertainty about just why Bhanah had come
to him, was cleared away; and there was a dignity about the man which
he liked. It was all right.
"Sanford Hantee Sahib should not go to find cheetahs before he knows
his dog," Bhanah began.
"Just what are you getting at?"
"My master is a preserver of life and Nels is a great hunter."
"I've thought of that. Is there any danger that he will kill when I
don't want him to?"
"Sahib, I, Bhanah, have known Nels since he was a puppy, I have seen
him take his training to kill; therefore I believe he will quickly be
taught to work together with my master, who is his heart's desire.
This is the chief thing, that my master is his heart's desire. But
also I know--he will kill when there is need for him to kill."
"Does he ever fail?"
"If he had ever failed, he would not be here. The Police Commissioner
Hichens Sahib--to whom may the gods render his due!--has many times set
him in the teeth of death; when occasion could be prepared, always."
"He did not fight the hyena."
"Now the Sahib speaks of an evil thing. For _that_ reason he was made
to live in a tent in the Jungle."
"But what--"
"The hyena is _evil-itself_; and a dog has no hope in him to fight with
it. We may not 'speak _a name_ in the same breath of common-judgment';
but I say that the living fear in a man's body made secret covenant
with the knowledge of this fact--because the man had long desired that
Nels should die. The lady-beautiful and his small children--all
together--I say they were made to live in danger--that some hyena might
destroy Nels!"
Only Bhanah's voice showed feeling as he finished.
"So that's what I interfered with; and that's why he let the dog be
given to me."
"It is straightly spoken. But the Sahib will not hold Nels less, for
courage or for power? There is not one to equal him."
"Bhanah, we'll put that hope into Nels, against when he hears a hyena."
"That will be with the good hunting-piece in my master's hands, at
first--to teach him confidence. Then he will fear--_not anything on
earth_. Then it will be _all_ like the cheetah hills to him. Sahib,
it is more satisfying than food."
"Where are the cheetah hills from here?"
"South and West; not the way the Sahib has gone before."
"You haven't told me about them before."
"Because Nels was not come to full strength, since his hurt."
"I'd hate to have him meet an accident."
"To-morrow he will go safe. He rose up last night and listened to a
hunting cheetah's cry."
"Are they close as that?"
"Not to a European Sahib's ear; but to Nels, yes."
"Deal Sahib said you would tell me about the cheetahs."
"What I have of value is by the common wayside; but _fortune causes
wealth to flow down mountain streams for those who climb_. There are
several things to consider, Sahib."
Skag was amused; he had not yet heard that only the ignorant teach
without apology. As seriously as possible, he said:
"I am listening."
Bhanah spoke gravely; his words falling like weights:
"That he is--seldom seen--till it is too late--to prepare. He is
treacherous."
"Where does he hide?"
"In the large-leaved trees which stretch their branches like that."
And Bhanah held his arms out horizontally, one above the other,
parallel.
"All right."
"That he is quicker than a man's eye."
Skag waited.
"And that he is more deadly than the tiger."
"How is that?"
"Because he is more quick. Because he is equal in power, even when he
is not equal in weight. Because he fights not only for food, not only
for life, but for the love of killing. Of all living things, he is the
creature of blood-lust. He is the name-of-fear, incarnate. It would
not be a good thing for my master to hear, nor for his servant to
tell--the cheetah's ways with a body from which life is gone out."
"You've made a strong argument for the cheetah as a fighter, Bhanah,
but you don't seem to stand much for his character."
"Who faces the hunting cheetah, Sahib, faces death. If the cheetah
falls upon him from above, or comes upon him from behind, he will know
death; but he will never know the cheetah. A hunter's first shot must
do its work; he will not often have time to fire again."
"I've got that. But I don't quite see what chance a dog has with him."
"Only four dogs in this my land, have any chance with him, Sahib."
"And the others?"
"They live because they have not met a cheetah."
"How does Nels do it?"
"My master must look upon that, to understand. I have seen, but I
cannot show it. It--" and a rare smile lighted the dark shadows of
Bhanah's face, "is _soon_."
"I've heard the Indian princes use them for hunting."
"Yes, Sahib, many Indian princes keep hunting cheetahs as English
Sahibs keep hunting horses. They go out after small things; and
innocent--mostly deer, of all kinds; even the _neel gai_, the great
blue cow."
"Will Nels attack such things?"
"Nels will not attack the defenseless; he has not been used for it.
His ways are established in that; there is no fear. If he should be
ranging at any time, he will return at the first call; but if he does
not, my Master, let him go. Be certain, _Nels knows_."
"That's good. I'm in this country to get acquainted with animals--"
"But to the preserving of men?"
"When I find it's necessary, I've no objection then--"
Bhanah stooped quickly and touched Skag's feet.
"Vishnu, the Great Preserver, has sent another Hand to this my India."
Skag looked into the man's face and found high light in it.
Next dawn was hot, but there was a stimulation in it; not like the
mountains, not like the sea. The air was full of a mellow enticement,
like strange incense; or romance. Skag enquired of his servant if the
day would be right for the cheetah hills.
Bhanah turned to the southeast and scanned the horizon line. Then he
held up his hand, palm toward the same direction, for a minute. At
last he walked to a shrub and looked at its leaves, closely.
"It may be that one day is left for my master to go into the cheetah
hills; but the earth makes ready for the breaking of the great monsoon."
Skag was getting interested in the Indian standpoint; he was finding
something in it. Quite innocently, he used the subtlest method known
to learn.
"What is the great monsoon?"
"Beneficence."
"What is the earth doing?"
"Now, she is holding very still. When it breaks, she will shake.
Having endured three days, she will rise up and cast off her old
garments, putting on new covering--entirely clean."
"Will I be able to see that?"
"Nay, Sahib! The wall of the waters will be between your eye and every
leaf."
. . . The wall of the waters; like the tones of a bell far off, the
words sank into some deep place in Skag. This day they would recur to
him; and in the years to come, they would recur again and yet again.
Swinging along out of Poona toward the cheetah hills, Skag was buoyant
with healthy energy. His heart was like the heart of a boy.
Consistent with his old philosophical dogma, this present was certainly
the best he had ever known. Carlin was in it, as surely as if she were
present. Roderick Deal had proved to be a man to respect; and to love,
secretly . . . "the guardianship of an elder brother."
Looking back, he saw that Poona City was beautiful, lying close against
the eastern side of the Ghats, just as they begin to fold away toward
the plains. No breath of plague or pestilence from Bombay could reach
across the ramparts of that mountain range.
The air was getting hotter every minute; but it was good. The vistas
stretched far--all satisfying. Bhanah said the monsoon was close.
"Beneficence"; the Indian idea of a deluge. He liked it all.
They came up into the hills through some stretches of stiff climbing;
and on the margin of a broad shelf Skag stopped for breath. The
panorama behind had widened and extended immensely. The face of a
planet seemed to reach from his feet across to the eastern horizon,
descending. He sat down on a flat rock and Nels comfortably extended
himself near by.
It was all good. The great golden jewel back in his heart, full of
afterglows--Carlin. The finding of a real man. The ways, the
reservations, the revelations, of Bhanah. The beauty and character of
the dog at his foot . . .
Nels had lifted his head. His eyes were fixed intently on the empty
white distances of the sky. His pointed ears were set at a queer
angle. There was nothing unusual to be seen, nothing Skag himself
could hear. He paid closer attention; and presently, began to get a
perfume. It was the great, good earth-smell; richer and fuller every
minute.
Then Nels stood up and faced the southeast. Skag looked where the dog
seemed to be looking. Along the horizon line he saw an edge of dark
grey. No, the horizon line was cut; this thing lay against the earth
as straight as the blade of a knife.
Now Skag began to feel something in the air. He couldn't recognise it,
nor define it, but it was imperative--some kind of urge. There was the
sense of emergency, perfectly clear; so much that he turned and looked
about, listening for a call. He thought of Carlin; could she be in any
need? He was glad she wasn't here; this was a good place to get away
from . . . Ah, that was it! _The urge to run_.
"How is it, Nels, old man, does the great monsoon make us feel like
moving?"
Nels stood like a thing carved out of solid pewter. He did not hear.
He faced the southeast. But Skag understood why the animals were due
to make a procession; the chief thing was to get away. Then Skag
settled into a perfect calm.
Four spotted deer came trotting up the shoulder of a near incline,
almost directly toward them. The dog watched them with a casual eye.
They went by, sixty feet away. Nels was looking further on to where a
big brown bear ambled along, making good time for one of her
build--behind her, a yearling. Still Nels showed no inclination to
leave his place.
As if it were a vision of the night, the whole landscape before Skag
became dotted with specks; all moving. All moving in the same
direction, almost toward him. As the numbers increased, he saw that
they ran straight; there was no swerving. In spite of what Roderick
Deal had told him, his mind demanded the reassurance of his own voice.
"Nels, is it real? Are we asleep?"
The dog was a stoic; he moved one ear, but he did not lift an eye.
Skag noticed that the hush in the air seemed to have laid a bond of
silence on all these creatures. He had heard no calls, no cries. And
these were the calling, crying animals of the world.
Here and there at some distance, he saw the ungainly, shambling gait of
hyenas, in twos and fours and threes together, or alone. Once when
four passed quite near, he felt Nels' shoulder against his thigh.
"Nels, old man, buck up. I tell you, get a grip. They may be the
devil, but he isn't hard to kill. I'll show you. Do you get me, son?"
Nels looked up into the man's face, a long look. Then he pressed his
head close, under Skag's hand.
Spotted deer ran in small groups; they came into sight and passed out
quickly. More swift and more beautiful, were slender deer with single
horns, twisted spirally; sometimes very long. Skag thrilled to their
pride of action; but Nels seemed in no wise interested.
There was another kind of deer seen at some distance; the bucks were
full-antlered and from where Skag stood, they looked light grey colour.
Rabbits scuttled in and out of sight constantly, all over the landscape.
Between the parallel lines of seven spotted deer on one side and a
small herd of grey deer on the other, he saw a great, low-leaping
beast; plainly yellow with black stripes--one tiger the sportsmen had
not bagged.
Evidently some mighty thing had transcended enmity and annihilated
fear--_for one day_.
Little things held his eye one while. Creatures like monster
rats--they were really mongooses--racing for their lives. Lizards from
two to eighteen inches long; and he saw one with rainbow colours in his
skin, mostly red. He learned afterward it was a great-chameleon; and
angry. He saw one small scaled thing, rather like a crocodile in
shape, but with a sharp-pointed nose; it waddled by, near enough to
show two little black beads in its face.
When Skag lifted his eyes the earth seemed to have given up a score of
packs of jackals. Their action was not like the wolf nor like the dog;
it was a short, high leap--giving to a running pack the effect of
_bobbing_. They were more perfect wolves than the American coyote, but
smaller; and they looked to have much fuller coats. Searching the
location of these groups of bobbing runners, his eye lifted toward the
southeast.
. . . The grey knife-blade had cut away half the world. It lay
straight across the earth, midway between his feet and where the
horizon line should curve. Without any look of motion, without any
shine or sheen, smooth as a wall of dull-polished granite, it rose to
beyond sight in the sky--the utterly true line of its base upon the
ground.
. . . So this was _the wall of the waters_.
No man dare interpret it to any other man; but Skag found perfect awe.
Then he grew very quiet--his faculties alert as never before.
When he noticed the landscape again, the bobbing packs were gone.
Slender spotted things in pairs and alone, were leopards--leaping long
and low. A great dark creature, going like the wind, was a black
panther.
Then he saw, right before him, the unthinkable. Majesty in miniature.
A perfect East Indian musk buck--the most beautiful of living things.
The wee fellow came on, leaping to the utmost of his strength; his
nostrils wide, his lips apart, his eyes immense. He swayed a little,
wavered and fell.
Skag ran and leaned over him--the little heart was driving out the
little life. It seemed a pity out of all proportion. . . . He held
the tiny breathless thing tenderly, as if it were a dead child. . . .
So he laid it down reluctantly, at last; and straightened--to see a
hunting cheetah coming toward him, not far away.
He glanced down, Nels was not there. He looked all about, Nels was not
in sight. Then the reserves in Skag's nature came up. All his
training flashed across his brain. Every nerve, every muscle in his
body, was instantly adjusted to emergency. There was no failure in
co-ordination.
He stood quietly watching the cheetah. It appeared not to have seen
him. If it kept on, it would pass about seventy feet away. But Skag
knew it would not keep on. With his mind he might think it would, but
something in him knew it would not.
He remembered Carlin; no, he must not think of her now. He remembered
that Nels was gone; no, he must not think of that either. All the
weapons he had were in his heart, in his head. He set himself in
order, ready. Recalling, while he waited, with what joy he had been
ready to face the tiger that coughed near the monkey glen, to stand
between Carlin and it--he was aware that now he faced a hunting cheetah
_as much for her_.
The cheetah stopped, and turning toward him direct, laid itself along
the ground so tight he could see only a line of colour among the
grasses. There it seemed to stay.
When a man deals with a cat, to allay fear or to establish any common
ground of sympathy, he ought to see its eyes. While realising this
fact, Skag heard a piercing cat-scream, some distance back of him. He
had not heard sounds from any of the animals before. . . . He found
himself calculating whether the monsoon or night or the cheetah, would
reach him first.
Changing sun-rays had laid a sheen resembling silver upon the wall; not
dazzling, but softly bright. After a while the cheetah showed, nearer
than when it settled into the grass. The wall was moving forward
surely--as surely as time--but the cheetah would reach him first.
At last he saw two yellow discs. Then he worked with his power--his
supreme confidence. He had never been more quiet, never more fearless
in his life.
The hunting cheetah moved toward him without pause, till he could see
the whole body along the ground; the broad, short head; the wide,
sun-lit eyes. And while he sent his steady force of human-kindly
thought into those eyes, they _narrowed into slits_. In that instant
Skag knew that the beast had no fear to allay; no quality of nature he
could touch. It was a murderer, pure and simple.
Then he thought of Carlin. . . . Of her brother. . . . Of Nels. He
opened his lips to speak, but the name did not pass his throat.
Carlin, Carlin! It was only a question of time; and Skag folded his
arms.
And high against the wall of the waters rolled the clarion
challenge-call of Nels, the Great Dane dog. The cheetah leaped and
settled back. Skag turned to look the way it faced. A grey line
flashed along the ground. Skag did not know it, but he was racing
toward their meeting.
The cheetah lifted and met Nels, body against body, in mid-air--Skag
heard the impact. Nels had risen full stretch, his head low between
his shoulders; the cheetah's wide-spread arms went round him, but his
entire length closed upon the cheetah's entire length--like a
jack-knife--folding it backward. Skag heard a dull sound, the same
instant with a keen cat-scream--cut short as the two bodies struck the
earth. When he reached them, Nels was still doubled tight over the
cheetah's backward-bent body; his grey iron-jaws locked deep in the
tawny throat.
"Sahib! Sanford _Han_--tee Sahib!"
"Hi, Bhanah; this way!"
Bhanah came with a rain-coat in his hand. Stooping to examine Nels a
moment and rising to glance at the wall, he spoke rapidly:
"The Sahib has seen his Great Dane Nels kill a second cheetah in one
day. There are two cuts on each leg. Also because Nels must not lose
his strength on a fast journey to his master's place--I, Bhanah, will
uncover mine honour in the presence of a man."
And quickly casting his turban from his head, he proceeded to tear it
down the middle. While he worked, he talked--as if to himself--in half
chanting tones:
"Men in my country do _not_--this thing; but I do it. Of a certainty
Nels has accomplished that I could not, though I would. This night two
cheetahs remain not--the gods witness--to destroy little tender
children of men. And when the so-insignificant cuts of Nels shall be
presently wrapped with the covering of mine own honour, I shall be
exalted not less! _The gods witness_. Then we return swiftly into a
safe place."
This was no ordinary exultation. Skag's ears were wide open; and he
heard grief--and hate.
"How did you know where I was?" he asked quietly.
"I heard the first cheetah's death cry; and I knew he was not far from
you, Sahib."
"I thought he was pretty far, one little while."
Skag had spoken, thinking of Nels. Bhanah searched his face while the
look of a frightened child grew in his own. Again he stooped quickly
and touched the man's feet. He had done it once before--to Skag's
acute discomfort.
"What's the meaning of that?"
"That a man's life is in thy breath, my Master."
"Bhanah, I'll find out--how to answer you."
Then Bhanah laughed a low exultant chuckle, while he finished binding
Nels' legs with a part of his own turban.
"It is well, Sahib; the _fortune which never fails_ is thine. And now,
if we are wise, we will run."
Nels led, all the way; and they were barely under cover, when the earth
indeed shook. The stone walls of the building rocked; the dull thunder
of a solid, continuous impact of dense water upon its roof, filled
their ears. The light of the sun was cut off.
"Bhanah, you and Nels will camp with me to-night. This has been the
hunting cheetah-day of my life; and--Nels is responsible that he didn't
get me."
"My master is the heart of kindness."
While Bhanah was busy, later, Skag laughed:
"I'm remembering that you said Nels did it _soon_. How did he do it?"
"By the drive of his weight against the cheetah's body; and the
strength of his limbs, in the action my master saw."
They had eaten and Nels was properly cared for, when Bhanah spoke
softly:
"Shall we have tales, Sahib?"
Skag roused from a moment's abstraction to answer:
"Bhanah, I don't remember anything I could talk about to-night, but the
hunting cheetah--Nels got."
"The hunting cheetah is one, Sahib; _there are many_. Telling is in
knowledge and in speech; finding is in the man. I will tell, if the
Sahib pleases; but he shall find."
So they had tales that night.