“If we save the Sahib, we shall have a great reward!” cried Gunga Ram, as he eagerly hurried after Isa Das, who had already plunged into the swollen river.
All the three men battled with the waters; all three hastened to save a drowning man; all three risked their lives to do so. The act was the same, but the motive different. Gunga Ram thought of praise and reward; Isa Das thought but of the words of the Lord—“Inasmuch as ye did it, ye did it unto me.”
Before the three ryots could reach the spot where the horse had lost his footing, the commissioner was almost drowned. The rush of waters had borne him out of his saddle; only one of his feet was yet in the stirrup; the rein had escaped from his hand; he was clinging for life to the mane of the struggling horse, of which only the head could be seen above the torrent. The Sahib had scarcely even power to shout for help; but in his great need help was at hand. Ya’kub seized the rein of the horse; Gunga Ram gave his powerful aid; while Isa Das supported the half-drowned man, and assisted him to recover his seat in the saddle. With violent efforts, and with both difficulty and risk, the three ryots succeeded in bringing both the horse and his gasping rider safe back to the side of the river.
As the horse struggled up the bank, with clotted mane and streaming flanks, Manton Sahib uttered a few words which were not addressed to the ryots, and which they could not understand. Isa Das thought, and perhaps thought rightly, that the Englishman, in his own language, was thanking God for preservation from death. The Sahib shook the drops from his dripping hair; his solah topee was floating far away down the river; he had lost it in the desperate struggle for life. Manton patted the neck of his trembling horse; then turning towards the ryots, addressed them in their own tongue,—
“Brave men; you have done a good service, and shall not miss a reward. Follow me to my own house.”
“As your highness commands,” replied the three ryots at once.
“This is a fortunate day for us,” exclaimed Gunga Ram, as the three men followed the commissioner towards his handsome bungalow; “we shall be poor ryots no longer; we shall no more have to earn our rice by the sweat of our brows.”
“We will eat something better than rice,” cried the feast-loving Ya’kub. “In hopes of good food, I seem already to feel myself growing fat as a baboo!” and he patted his breast.
When the commissioner reached his house, he called aloud for his bearer, and gave command that money should be brought. A bag of silver was quickly placed in the Sahib’s hand; and before he dismounted from his horse, Manton drew from it three rupees, and gave one to each of the men.