'Arachchi, it is but two miles. You said it is a good thing to end the trouble. Let us settle it now, to-day, and the Mudalali can have Punchi Menika to-night.'
Babehami was silent. He disliked being hurried. On the other hand he would be very glad to see the whole matter settled. His action with regard to the chena troubled him because it was dangerous. He knew that the petition had been presented, and he was not at all sure that he would come off as well in an inquiry as he had in the court. It would also be wise to bind Silindu to him by giving him back the chena, and not to risk his changing his mind about the Mudalali and Punchi Menika. He argued a little more, and stood out half-heartedly against Silindu's urgings to start at once. At last he gave in, and they started for the chena.
They followed a narrow jungle track which had been lately cleared. The tangle of shrubs and undergrowth and trees was like a wall on each side of the track. The headman walked first, and Silindu, carrying his gun, followed. For the first three-quarters of a mile they walked in silence, except for a word or two which the headman shouted back to Silindu without turning his head. Silindu had fallen somewhat behind; he quickened his pace, and came up close to the headman; he was muttering to himself.
'What do you say?' asked Babehami.
'What? Was I talking? I do not know, Arachchi. They say the hunter talks to himself in the jungle. It is a custom. Have you ever been a hunter, Arachchi?'
'No. You know that well enough.'
'Oh yes. You are no hunter. Who should know that better than I? But do they call me a good hunter, Arachchi? skilful, cunning? Do I know the tracks, Arachchi?'
'Of course, every one knows you to be the best hunter in the district.'
'Aiyo, the best hunter in the district! And do you know, Arachchi, that I am afraid of the jungle?'
'So they say. What are you afraid of?'