"When I find it's necessary, I've no objection then—"
Bhanah stooped quickly and touched Skag's feet.
"Vishnu, the Great Preserver, has sent another Hand to this my India."
Skag looked into the man's face and found high light in it.
Next dawn was hot, but there was a stimulation in it; not like the mountains, not like the sea. The air was full of a mellow enticement, like strange incense; or romance. Skag enquired of his servant if the day would be right for the cheetah hills.
Bhanah turned to the southeast and scanned the horizon line. Then he held up his hand, palm toward the same direction, for a minute. At last he walked to a shrub and looked at its leaves, closely.
"It may be that one day is left for my master to go into the cheetah hills; but the earth makes ready for the breaking of the great monsoon."
Skag was getting interested in the Indian standpoint; he was finding something in it. Quite innocently, he used the subtlest method known to learn.
"What is the great monsoon?"
"Beneficence."