"Bul-lul-luh!" he muttered. "I was born in Baluchistan, on the nice white sand plains of the Sibi Put (desert). As Mooswa has said, there must be some great Animal who arranges things for us. Think of it, Comrades, I had the good fortune to be born in just the loveliest spot any animal could wish for. As far as I could see on every side was the hot, dry sand of the beautiful Sibi desert."
"I know," interrupted Ostrich; "my home in Arabia was like that. I've listened to Arna here, and Bagh, telling of the thick Jungles where one could scarce see three lengths of his own body, and I must say that I think it very bad taste."
"Yes, it was lovely there," bubbled Unt. "No wonder that Bagh, when he was chased by the Beaters, fled to the sand damar and hid in the korinda thorns. Such sweet eating they are, firm under one's teeth. The green food is dreadful stuff. Once crossing the Sibi Put, when I was three days without food, I remember coming to Jacobabad, a place where the foolish ones of the Men-kind had planted trees, and bushes, and grass, and kept them green with water. I ate of these three green things, and nearly died from a swelling in my stomach.
"Well, as I have said, I was born in that nice sand place, and for three or four years did nothing but follow mother Unt about. Then they put a button in my nose, and tied me with a cord to the tail of another Unt, and put merchandise on my back for me to carry. There was a long line of us, and in front walked Dera Khan, the Master. We seemed to be always working, always carrying something; our only rest was when we were being loaded or unloaded. We were made to lie down when the packs were put on our backs, and many a time I have got up suddenly when the boxes were nearly all on, rose up first from behind, you know, and sent the things flying over my head. I would get a longer rest that way, but also I got much abuse, though I didn't mind it, to be sure; for, as Mooswa has said, our way of life is all arranged for us, and the abuse that was thrust upon me was a part of my way.
"But one year there came to Sibi many Men of the war-kind, and with them were the black ones from Bengal. It was a fat one of this kind, one of little knowledge of the ways of an Unt, a 'Baboo,' Dera Khan called him, who caused me much misery. It was my lot to take him and his goods to the Bolan Pass, so Dera said, for the One-in-Charge, a Sahib, had so ordered it. When I sought to rise, as usual, when the load was but half in place, he got angry and beat me with a big-leafed stick he carried to keep the heat from his head. But in the end I brought to his knowledge the method of an Unt who has been beaten without cause.
"When all his pots and pans, and boxes of books, wherein was writing, had been bound to my saddle, the Baboo clambered on top. I must say that I could understand little of his speech, for my Master, Dera Khan, was a Man of not many words, but the Baboo was as full of talk as even Magh is; and of very much the same intent, too—of little value."
"Big lip! Crooked neck! Frightener of Young!" screamed Magh, hurling the epithets at Camel with vindictive fury.
"Unt's tale is truly a most interesting one; there is much wit in his long head," commented Pardus. Camel rolled the cud in his mouth three or four times, dropped his heavy eyelids reflectively, bubbled a sigh of meek resignation and proceeded:
"When I rose from behind, the Baboo nearly fell over my neck; when I came sharply to my forefeet (for I was always a very spry, active Unt), he declared to Dera Khan that I had broken his back. But I knew this couldn't be true, for I was always a most unlucky Unt. Of course, this time I was not tied to the tail of a mate, but my leading line was with the Baboo. He shouted 'Jao' to me, and in addition called me the Son of an Evil Pig.
"Have any of you ever seen one of my kind run away?" Camel asked, swinging his big head inquiringly about the circle.