Tom thanked them, and gave orders that all arrangements should be made for the breaking up of the party.
When they had withdrawn he held a further consultation with Hoosanee and the cleverest of his Ghoorka guides. This man had felt the curious magnetic power which Tom generally exercised over Orientals, and had become almost as much devoted to him as his own servants. Uninvited, he had joined the conference, and he now threw himself at his feet and, having begged that he might be one of those whose services he would retain, answered, with readiness and perfect knowledge, his questions about the country. No one, as it happened, could have been better acquainted with the low country that lies at the foot of the hills which separate the Nepaul valley from the plains of North-West India. The jungle-fever had no power over him. He breathed more freely on this pestilential plain than in the high mountain valleys. Moreover, the wild tribes, or Aswalias, as they are generally called, who inhabited the jungle of the Terai, knew and respected him. Had he not again and again brought down great Shikaris, or hunters from the hills, who slew the tigers that devastated their fields and carried off their little ones? The great reptiles themselves that, like malignant spirits, shuddered through the long grass of the jungle, had no terror for Bâl Narîn, and he carried with him potions and unguents that could steal the poison from the deadliest snake-bites. Though a Ghoorka, therefore, and, as such, a natural enemy of the wild Aswalias, he had long been counted their friend. Bâl Narîn shared his countrymen's admiration for Europeans, of whom he had been frequently the companion and guide. It was to fit himself for their service that he had practised Hindoostani, which he spoke with quite sufficient ease to carry on a conversation, and, as this was a rare art amongst the Ghoorkas, it made him all the more valuable. His European friends called him Billy—a trick into which Tom fell with a readiness that betrayed him at once to the keen perception of Bâl Narîn, who had made up his mind long since that he was far more English than Indian. The discovery, however, had rather increased than diminished his reverence for his new lord, to whom he was now almost as much devoted as Hoosanee himself.
These three, then, set themselves to discuss their plans.
Bâl Narîn stated that they were one day's direct march from the foot of the hills. The road was not, at that time, nearly so good as it has since become; but he was able to speak of it as comparatively safe and easy. With the ascent of the hills, the difficulties would begin. Exceedingly precipitous, choked with low underwood and haunted with wild beasts, the belt of country which lay between the pestilential swamp they were now crossing and the middle slopes of Sisagarhi was almost as dangerous as the Terai, and far more exhausting to the traveller. The question was, could a woman and child have crossed it alone? Bâl Narîn thought not. He inclined to the opinion that if they were living—a point concerning which Tom would admit no doubt—they were still on the plain. Hoosanee, on the other hand, who had witnessed the heroism of which Grace was capable when she had others than herself to defend, was loud in his belief that she had set herself to face the perils of Sisagarhi, and that she had succeeded in her attempt.
Above the lower belt of which I have spoken, and on the middle slopes of the first range of mountains, there are glorious forests and delicious pastures. In this favoured region, where the temperature is that of southern Europe at its best, the oak and the chestnut, the ash and the elm, the laurel and the magnolia, are to be found in company with the pipul, the banyan and the acacia. In the midst of this wealth of vegetation there are pretty little villages inhabited by quiet cultivators of the Magar and Newar tribes—Buddhist for the most part, and people of gentle life, over whom the Ghoorka warriors exercise lordship, in return for a protectorate that is gratefully welcomed. There are posts here and there, along the road over the pass, in which soldiers are stationed, to drive back the savage and predatory tribes from the south, who, since the settlement of the country early in the century, have been able to do little mischief besides such as might arise from an occasional cattle raid. It was the fear that these wild tribes, held in check on one side by the British and on the other by his own stout little soldiers, might become powerful and overrun the country that had induced Jung Bahadoor to originate the policy, which he carried through with such consistency and success throughout the year of the rebellion. Hoosanee, then, gave it as his opinion that the fugitives had reached this middle region, and found a temporary resting-place in one of the villages. He proposed that they should press forward without an hour's delay, make for the foot of the hills, and set themselves to climb them. As for Tom, he wished to go both ways. If they had reached the further side of the jungle, he could not bear that they should remain without help one moment longer than was absolutely necessary, while, on the other hand, if they were here on the plain hiding, it might be, in some miserable hut, how terrible it would be to leave them to their fate!
'Hoosanee,' he said at last. 'Do you really wish to please me?'
'Do I wish to please my master?' cried Hoosanee. 'How can he ask me?'
'I ask you, Hoosanee, because I must put your affection to the severest test. It has come to this. We must divide our party. You must go one way and I another. Listen, and do not speak until I tell you! I would divide myself if I could. I would climb Sisagarhi to search for Miss Grace there, and I would hunt this jungle through and through, in case she should be hiding here still. How can I do it? In one way only. You are my second self, my good friend, and you must take part of my duty from me.'
'I will stay then. My master shall climb Sisagarhi.'
'No, Hoosanee. It is you who shall go on. Be silent! I cannot allow you to decide this. I have my reasons for what I am doing. Listen again! You shall take three of the Ghoorkas, and a runner to send back with intelligence as soon as you have gained it. I will take the others, and Billy who knows the people shall go with me. Come at once! I will divide provisions and send you on.'