"'Now, nay, byl-wan, my brother, Charlie Sahib, herewith bestows on thee whatsoever reward is due for the killing of this dog.'
"'Ay, and this pistol, too,' interrupted the young lad, putting his glittering toy in my hand. And he showed me the wonder of it,—how it spake five times, if need were, and how to charge it.
"Then they put the dead man on my bullock-cart, which one of those present had been sent to fetch. And when the bearers took up the doolis, they shouted, as one man, 'Chali Sahib ke jhai!'"
"Wah, byl-wan ji, wah!" exclaimed Ram Deen, when Goor Dutt had finished, "thou art taller than most men. Let us honor a man, my brothers."
And those who sat round the fire sprang to their feet, and woke the slumbering village with the heartiness of their salutation, as they shouted, "Goor Dutt ji ke jhai!"
CHAPTER XV
"Ich Liebe Dich"
Early one morning in December, in the year 186—, I left my camp with a pointer at my heels to explore the foothills to the northwest of Nyagong. The region abounded with iron ore, and the mining syndicate I represented instructed me to conduct my prospecting in a way that would not arouse the suspicion of the manager of another company that had already established iron works at Kaladoongie. So it speedily became noised about in that section of the Terai that I was one of the many Englishmen who spend their leave of absence in the jungle for the purposes of sport.
There was a shrewd nip in the air when I started, and the barrels of my gun were so cold that I was glad I had put on a pair of thick gloves.