We skated down the slippery slope, dragging the shopkeeper after us, and stumbled across the veranda into a low, rambling hovel of a single room. At one end squatted a half-dozen low-caste men and as many slatternly, half-naked females. In a corner was spread an array of food stuffs; in another, several dirty, brown brats were curled up on a heap of rush mats and foul rags. James sprang through the squatting group and fell upon the wares.
“Only grains and vegetables,” he wailed. “Not a damn thing a civilized man’s dog could eat unless it was cooked. It’s no supper for us, all right. What say we turn in?”
He dived towards the other corner and tumbled the sleeping children together. The natives stared stupidly, offering no sign of protest at this maltreatment of their offspring. The Australian threw himself down beside the slumberers.
“Holy dingoes!” he gasped, bounding again to his feet, “What a smell!”
We had indeed fallen upon squalor unusual in the land of Burma.
Our guide, waiving the rights of higher caste, squatted with the others. Then he began to chatter, and, that accomplishment being universal among his countrymen, he was soon joined by all the group; the old men first, in rasping undertones, then the younger males, in deeper voice, and last, the females, in cracked treble.
We sat down dejectedly on two Standard Oil cans. For an hour the natives jabbered on, gaping at us, chewing their betel-nut cuds like ruminating animals. Green-eyed lizards in wall and ceiling set up their nerve-racking “she-kak! she-kak!” The mud dried in thick layers on our faces.
Suddenly James bounded into the midst of the group and grasped the shopkeeper by the folds of his loose gown.
“We want something to eat!” he bellowed. “If there’s any chow in this shack show it up. If there isn’t, cut out this tongue rattle, you missing link, and let us sleep!” and he shook the passive Burman so savagely that the cigarette hanging from his nether lip flew among the sleeping children.
The shopkeeper, showing neither surprise nor anger, regained his equilibrium, picked up his lantern, and marched with dignified tread out into the night. Apparently he had abandoned us in spite of the law of hospitality.