He knew that with the dog’s help he could have tracked the caravan to its destination and so have learned the details of the course it took. But he also guessed that none who saw it pass would answer questions; and at the other end there was the risk that he might find a blank wall, silence, and perhaps a knife’s edge for inquisitive intruders. To play for safety—to look for it—to expect it, would be ridiculous. He must run all risks without a gesture of self-protection. He was glad he had not even a revolver with him, for a hidden weapon might betray him into rashness of the wrong kind. He made up his mind, if he were threatened, to rely solely on whatever wits the gods of emergency might sharpen for him at the moment.
Meanwhile, he felt reasonably sure of one thing: that the elephants were a rajah’s property. The camels might possibly belong to some one else, but it was more likely they were also the same rajah’s. There might be a rajah who would not ask questions, but who was linked in some chain of more or less esoteric brotherhood, akin perhaps to Masonry. If so, the procession would arouse no comment on the countryside, for it is no man’s business and to no man’s profit to inquire too closely into a rajah’s private doings; he who does so may count with almost absolute precision on what the jury will subsequently call an accident. “I don’t know, I didn’t see” and “I forget” are difficult, exasperating pegs on which to hang a chain of evidence.
At the end of two hours’ swaying Dawa Tsering’s stomach, void of embarrassing content, began to recover. His sunny disposition followed suit.
“Loose me, Gupta Rao. I am sorry I bawled out thy other name. I will slay this fool who heard me. Then none will be the wiser, and thou and I are friends again.”
“Do you hope ever to see Spiti?” Ommony inquired.
“By the wind that blows there, and the women who laugh there, surely! I have a treasure tucked away in Spiti—earned on the te-rains. Loose me, Gupta Rao, or I call thee by thy other name again! I can shout louder, now my belly aches less.”
“Shout, and let us see what happens,” Ommony suggested.
The small boy’s mind that had its kingdom in the Hillman’s bulk considered that a moment.
“Nay,” he said presently, “I think that an evil might happen. The luck is not good lately. Who would have thought a camel would kick me? The devils who live in the hills around Spiti owe me for many a good turn I did them. The devils of these parts seem very mischievous. I had better behave myself.”
“How about a promise?” Ommony suggested.