The Adventures of Akbar

by Flora Annie Webster Steel

But it was full of the most delicious dainties, including a bowl of sweet milk made with almonds and honey and rice meal for Baby Akbar.

Head-nurse, however, would not let him eat it. She was always afraid of the little lad being poisoned, so Meroo always cooked with his own hands everything the child ate. Therefore they gave it to Tumbu instead; for, having been brought up by shepherds, he loved milk, and he licked his lips after it and was soon sound asleep by the fire.

The lamb stewed with pistachio nuts and full of saffron looked, however, so delicious that after Meroo had tasted it and pronounced it quite safe, since all knew that saffron would not go with real poison, they set to work and finished the platter.

They were all as jolly as could be afterward, though the heat of the fire and their heavy supper made them sleepy; so Head-nurse, declaring it was far too cold in the inner room, dragged her bed and Foster-mother's close to the fire, the others retired to the outer room, and before long they were all snoring away quite happily.

For if the supper had not truly been poisoned, it had been drugged. Drugged with sleep-bringing drugs.

So, as the firelight flickered over the room faintly, it showed Head-nurse's face and Foster-mother's face and even Tumbu's black muzzle in a dead sleep that was almost unconsciousness. And in the outer room Foster-father snored, and even Roy's keen, hawk-face lay like one dead. Only Baby Akbar tossed and turned in his comfortable nest between his two nurses.

Save for this, due to Head-nurse's precaution in not allowing the Heir-to-Empire sweet milk for supper, all was as cruel brother Kumran's agents had planned when they had sent the pretended messenger from the palace with the platter of delicacies. Even the sentry below was sleeping sound after his share of kid curry.

Thus, those who were on the roof waiting until the moon had set and they could without fear of discovery lower the young lad, who was to steal Baby Akbar, down to the window (through which, being slender, the thief could slip easily), felt that their task was almost done.

But they reckoned without a great white fluff which after a time showed itself at the entry to the charcoal bunker, yawning and stretching and blinking its eyes. Head-nurse had been quite wrong in saying Down's kitten must be black in that hole! Its mother, anyhow, was beautifully white, perhaps because Down was a sensible cat and had only chosen the charcoal bunker because she had found a lot of old straw and a blanket tucked away in its farther corner. Besides, as she only had one kitten, she could spend all her time in licking it and cleaning it with her rough, red tongue, after the manner of cats. Anyhow, there it lay, right out of reach of any one, a little bundle of white fluff, and Down was just beginning to feel that there were other things in the world besides kittens. For instance, was that scratching on the roof, think you, a mouse? If so—? She passed to the fire. It was warm and nice; just the very place for a kitten's first look at the world, and there were no troublesome people about; not but what she was anxious to show her kitten to Baby Akbar. But who knew if horrid Head-nurse might not try to catch it? But Head-nurse was asleep. Down whisked her tail, disappeared through the archway, and reappeared again gingerly, carrying the kitten in her mouth. It sprawled in the firelight and mewed piteously. And there was that scratching on the roof again ... really, kittens were a bore when one wanted to mouse....

So far it is easy to follow Down's thoughts. What came next is more difficult. No one can say whether the cat had really any notion that danger to her young master was abroad, or whether she only wanted to show him her kitten, or whether she wanted it taken care of—for Persian cats, if they kill a rat at night, have often been known to jump on their master's bed and insist on his taking custody of their prize lest it should somehow come to life again if they left it alone—only this was certain, Baby Akbar woke with a rough, red tongue licking his nose, and there, on the quilt, was Down beside the fluffiest, darlingest little kitten that ever was!