As I was more interested in looking up my own pedigree than in listening to an account of his, I suggested a year somewhere about which I wished to inquire and asked if he knew of any incidents to aid me in tracing my mother or my father.
“Yes,” said he, “I remember the time very well, and it is strange how trivial things at times will help to fasten greater things in the memory.”
And the old man chuckled over something as he recalled the time. He continued: “I was then very much annoyed by a number of cattle coming into my compound at night, eating the grass and the vegetables in my garden, and destroying more than they ate. My servants repeatedly tried to catch them, but at the first noise every one bolted out through the hedge as fast as their legs could carry them. It seemed as if the devil was in the cattle, and the cattle were in the plot to worry me and escape. This continued for a number of nights. I went to the cowherds, but they declared and swore that they tied up their cattle every night, and they would not think of such a thing as letting their cattle go loose to be lost or else get into the pound. I returned home determined to have those cattle, outwit the devil and those cowherds or else I was not the son of a Frenchman. I laid my plan. I sent to the bazar for a lot of strong rope, and had my servants make a lot of loops or snares, and I explained to them that after the cattle had entered the compound, we would slip around through the gully and fasten the ends of the ropes to the trees standing in the hedge, and let the snares hang between where the cattle would have to go out. The servants rather enjoyed the prospect of fun as much as I did, and besides they were becoming tired of night watching and being aroused to chase the cattle.”
The old man went on with the garrulous prolixity of old age, entering into all the details, and in fact the story was interesting from the way he told it, with so much earnestness, with his French gestures,—how well they illustrate,—and the twitching and smiles of his face. “Well,” said he, “the night came and the cattle also. I took a number of men with me, they with the rope snares, and we went a long way around, down through the gully and fixed the loops. When all was ready, a man went into the compound, and at once such a scurrying of the cattle, and then what a bellowing, roaring and plunging as each was caught in a noose! It was a good deal more sport than to see a poor devil of a man hung!”
The old man laughed again and again, as he recalled those bellowing, plunging cattle, and I had to laugh too, almost forgetting what I came after, but asked, “And then?”
He replied, “We watched by the cattle till morning, as we were in to the finish, and sent for the owners, as we well knew who they were. They held up their hands in surprise, saying they had been everywhere looking for the cattle as they had broken loose during the night. I made them do something more than hold up their hands, for they paid me well before the cattle were released. It was a trick of theirs to let their cattle out at night to steal a good feed, and the brutes seemed to be trained therein.”
I could not see what all this had to do with me so I asked, “And then?”
“Really!” he replied, “I had almost forgotten what I was going to tell you. It must have been about three or four o’clock in the morning or just before day break, as we were watching the cattle as I went along the gully, I came near running into a man. I saw at a glance that he was a European and recognized him as Mr. Smith the young magistrate.”
“Smith!” I thought, “that name Smith, have I come across it again?”
“And then?” I asked.