Book: Son of Power

W >> Will Levington Comfort and Zamin Ki Dost >> Son of Power




"The last and least often heard--I mean they do not do it every night,
sometimes not for several nights, sometimes they do all three in one
night--is the cry of a little native baby; the cry of a lost baby; the
cry of a deserted baby; the cry of a baby alone out in the jungle
shadows and frightened to death."

She stopped and lay quite still; seeming to forget he was there.

"And what then?"

"Nothing, only it keeps on sometimes the rest of that night. They
never mix the three kinds together. Even when they do them all in one
night, they are usually in this order as I am telling you. Sometimes
the baby is still for a few minutes; then it begins again and goes on."

Again she stopped a long time. Suddenly she flung up her hand and
spoke faster:

"No, there's nothing more about that little deserted native baby's cry,
excepting that I've started up in broad daylight afterward, with a cold
panic in my heart that it had really been a baby, a true baby and I had
failed to go and save it. And--the nights, the long nights I have
fastened my weight on Nels' neck to keep him inside of this door!"

She pointed to the opening by her couch.

"Why don't you chain him?"

"He goes on a leash perfectly, but he has never been taught to be
chained up. My husband has never permitted the servants to do it. I
tried it here myself, but he suffers and cries; and that keeps both the
children awake. It would jeopardise Baby's life to force him. On
account of the ceremony which occurred a few hours before her mother
died, the servants believe she belongs to Nels. They claim that he
acknowledges the ownership. I will admit that he behaves like it. She
has often kept him back. He goes from this tent door to her cot
yonder, to look at her. But always he comes back to the door. Some
night my weight will not be sufficient. That is my fear."

"The situation is clear and I think I can manage it, if you will leave
it to me for a night or two. These beasts must be kin to a big snake I
met in the Grass Jungle country. My friend Mr. Cadman shot him. That
was when I found fear--"

At that moment Skag heard the clear, treble tones of a child's voice:

"Nels-s, Nels-s, Nels-s!"

And the veriest fairy thing his eyes had ever looked upon came flying
in the tent door before him. Her head was a halo of gold made of the
finest kind of baby curls. She was unbelievable. She was like a
flame, beside the couch.

"This is Betty, our baby."

The child lifted intensely blue eyes and while Skag smiled into them,
he was without words before the vivid whiteness of her face. She was
sent with her ayah to the back of the tent for her nap. Then Nels came
in.

Skag had never seen such a dog. For size, for proportions, for power,
for dignity, he was quite beyond comparison.

"This is Nels, one of the four greatest hunters in India."

Nels came to him at once. With a searching regard he looked into
Skag's face one long moment, then a glow came up in his eyes and he
swung about and stretched himself alongside Skag's chair, reached his
arms out before him and laid his chin on them, almost touching the
man's foot. Skag leaned over and stroked the big head. It felt like
sealskin, but it was soft clean grey colour.

"Nels has adopted you, Wonder Man!"

The lady on the couch spoke like a small child, marvelling.

"I am glad to have his friendship. But I wish, if you will excuse me,
I wish that you wouldn't call me by that name. Skag is not my real
name, but the few friends I have call me Skag. I'd be pleased if you
would call me that."

"That's very nice of you, but do you much mind? I like Wonder Man
better."

"I don't believe I quite understand why."

"Partly from things I've heard about you. But rather more on account
of what I've seen just now. I fancy the natives are not far wrong and
you are a wonder man to them. . . . If you do this sort of thing,
delivering people who are in danger of their lives, and getting the
devotion of creatures as hard to win as Nels, I can see that you are
going to have a great reputation in this India. And you are not to be
in the least disturbed if I call you Wonder Man; I am believing the
title is prophetic at least."

"What I'm doing for you is only what any man would do. If you hear me
outside to-night, don't be startled. I'll get the beast as soon as I
can. If there's more than one, I'll stay around till they're cleaned
out."


Soon after dusk Skag circled out into the jungle. He carried one of
the best hunting-pieces made and plenty of ammunition. Taking a
position in sight of the tent on the jungle side, he waited. Within
half an hour a little puppy began to bark. No man alive could ever
know it was anything but a puppy. It yapped and whimpered a while and
then it began to get frightened. He moved toward it, but it stopped.
For several minutes there was silence. Then another one began back of
him. He slipped through the shadows with the utmost caution, but
before he got near it, it also stopped. This occurred several times.
At last, away in another direction, a wild, grating laugh broke out.
He turned at once and moved carefully but swiftly to come in range
between it and the tent.

This laugh-thing was torture. It couldn't stop. It was insane. He
thought it would never be done. In a few minutes it was important to
have it done. She had said it was to paralyse its prey. It was enough
to paralyse anything. Then he jumped. Now _that_ was devilish! But
he was coming closer to the sound and getting interested, when it
stopped. So he followed it from place to place. Always, when he got
near possible range, it stopped. Always it began in a few minutes in
some other spot. There might be a dozen. . . .

And a woman, alone with two children and a dog, had endured this six
nights out of seven, night after night all night, for five weeks. . . .


Near morning, toward the front, a sick baby began to cry. While he
made his way around, his steps quickened to the very urge of its need.
He was quite near the tent when--a clear, high, agonised shriek. It
was the girl! And he ran.

There was an instant when he did not realise anything. He just saw.
Fifty feet from the tent, the Great Dane dog, his head low, almost
touching the ground, moving slowly, step by step--with a long, slender,
white figure dragged bodily on his neck. Then he heard:

"Rodger! Keep back! Take care of Baby. Nels, _Nels_! Nels, you must
_listen_ to me. . . . _Nels_!"

He caught hold of her and the dog at the same moment.

"Don't let him go. _Don't let go of Nels_!"

"All right, I won't. Now will you go back to the tent, please? I've
got Nels. I'm going with him."

"No, _the thing has happened_! I tell you, he doesn't even know me!
Why do you want him to go at all?"

"Because they keep out of my range, alone. He'll lead me to this one.
I'll take care of him. Now go; will you please go back?"

"I don't--"

A frantic scream from a boy's throat and in the same instant the
lifting cry of a younger child. Clear in the door-space of the tent,
behind them, two little figures clung together in the opening--and just
at one side, close to the children, a dark, ungainly shape! Skag
sprang three jumps toward the opposite side, dropped on one knee and
fired. The shape bounced up, crumpled over and lay still.

They both ran to the children. Skag had just made sure the beast was
dead, when he heard:

"Nels, Nels!--He is gone!"

"If you'll shut the door safely, I'll take care of Nels."

"It won't fasten, but I'll stay."

The Great Dane was not in sight but Skag knew the direction. He ran
almost upon them. Nels stood, but crouched toward the ground. A shape
rose against him--above his shoulders on the other side. Skag slipped
around to reach it without hitting the dog. In the same instant Nels
took a blow from the jungle beast's head. The two swerved over toward
one side. Skag set his gun-muzzle against the hyena's neck--he could
see that much--and blew it away from him. (There wouldn't be much
danger but it was dead.) Then he knelt, his hand instantly wet at
Nels' throat. But the blood was not gushing, it was streaming. He put
his arms underneath to lift him, but couldn't do it alone. There was
nothing to do but go for the girl.

"I'm sorry. I need your help. Dare we leave the children a minute?"

"Yes, Baby is falling asleep; and Rodger is brave, he will watch
her. . . . Tell me, is Nels killed?"

"No, I think we can save him. But we must be quick."

She was by his side running, as he added:

"I know how to do it, when we get him to the light."

They worked together and it was all they could do, but they got Nels
into the tent. She brought the materials he asked for, and while he
stopped the flow of blood and dressed the wound, she went to the baby.
When he rose she was leaning over the child.

"I'm afraid something has happened to her! Her face is strange Her
breath is not right. I wish Ayah would come; I don't know a thing
about babies!"

"Is there a doctor near?"

"Not this side Poona."

"I can go after him."

"You're awfully good, but there will be no train before the one my
husband comes up on. It's a holiday. He would have been up last
evening, only he had important business. I am not at liberty to
determine about a physician, because he will be here so soon."

"Shall I go after the ayah?"

"That might help--thank you so much!"


Skag learned in the next two hours that there is nothing in life more
difficult for a man to find, than servants' quarters in a native
village. By full daylight he gave up and tramped back a considerable
distance. As he approached the tent, an Englishman came out walking
rapidly toward him. Police Commissioner Hichens had a very red face.
He spoke before Skag could see his eyes:

"Sir, I take pleasure in ordering you to leave my premises. You will
be good enough not to be seen again in this vicinity."

"Yes? You--are--finding--fault--with--me?"

"What occurs to mine does not in the least concern you! You are
occupying yourself with my affairs. I will not permit it. Am I
explicit enough?"

"You are explicit enough."

Skag wheeled on the path and walked away from the police commissioner
under a sharp revelation that if he didn't get away at once, he would
do a thing he had never been inclined to do before. He was amazed by
his own fury. Unconsciously he spoke aloud:

"I never wanted to----"

"_Remember, it is not necessary to touch the unclean._"

Low tones of strange vibration. Skag looked up. A brown-robed man
stood before him. (The long straight lines of the garment were made of
a material hand-woven of camel's hair, known in the High Himalayas as
_puttoo_.) The quiet face was in chiselled lines. The level dark eyes
were looking deep into the place where Skag's soul lived. Skag was
intensely conscious that he stood in a Presence. He endured the eyes.
They made him feel better. The robed man spoke again:

"I speak to give you assurance that those you have served will be cared
for. Also, a responsibility may fall upon you. If you accept, a great
good will come to you in this life."

"I will do what I can."

"_Peace be with thee._"

"Shall I see you again?"

"Never."

Skag stood aside and the robed man walked toward the tent.

Skag went back to Poona. Carlin's eldest brother Roderick Deal had not
come yet. Still waiting, a week later, he walked one morning on the
stone causeway, which is a most attractive unit in the architecture of
Poona's great waterworks, and filled his eyes with the Ghat vistas
toward the north and west. Joyous dog tones made him glance back. It
was Nels, straining forward on a heavy chain-leash in the old cook's
hand.

"Let him go."

Now Skag noticed that the dog moved with some effort, possibly with
some pain; but when he arrived, Nels reared his mighty body and set his
paws on Skag's two shoulders. Skag hugged him and eased him down. The
old cook handed Skag a note. It read:


To the Wonder Man, by the hand of Bhanah the cook, who is a gift to the
Man from the gods. Together with Nels the beautiful, a gift to the Man
from Eleanor Beatrice (Hichens)--who is free!

Bhanah the cook will tell his master the rest. Save this, that Eleanor
Beatrice is grateful with her full heart to the Man.

He is to remember that he has been adopted by Nels. He is to walk
softly because he is on the way to be adopted--of course it is past
belief, but also it is past question--by the mightiest of all mystic
orders, whose messengers have accomplished this thing.

N.B. The Sahib is to enquire of his servant Bhanah what is the native
meaning of "walk softly." He will find Bhanah entirely trustworthy in
all matters of information.


Skag looked up and the old cook spoke:

"I, who am speaking to Sanford Hantee Sahib, am Bhanah--entered into
covenant before the gods that I am his servant to serve him with my
strength, so long as I endure to live.

"I bring from the shining lady who was my mistress, whom may the gods
protect! certain messages for him alone.

"The child is dead. Her body lies deep in a metal case beside her
mother's, near one of the old bungalows."

"I am sorry to hear that."

"Death does not snare the soul. If she were still here, Nels would not
be free to come to my master. And my master has become his heart's
desire."

"I am glad to have him and you."

The old cook laid his hand on his forehead and bent low before Skag.

"The lady-beautiful will sail from Bombay in a few days, returning to
her own mother's house. She is forever free from Police Commissioner
Hichens Sahib, who was my master only for her sake and for the sake of
Nels. The lady's own ayah will go with her to her own country, to
serve her as I serve thee.

"These things are accomplished by a Power which works through those who
are seldom seen and never known of men.

"I have spoken and it is finished. Have I permission to take Nels to
my quarters where he can rest? He is well; but not yet fully strong.
If my master will tell us his place, we will come to him in the
morning."

Skag told them. The recognition of Nels as a personality amused him;
but he did not quarrel with it.




CHAPTER VII

_The Hunting Cheetah_

Since Bhanah and Nels had come to him, Skag had fallen into the way of
taking Nels out quite early for a full day's tramp through the broken
shelving Ghats. (This helped to bear the weight of the days till
Carlin's eldest brother should reach Poona.) The contours were
different from anything he had seen along the top or toward the sea; as
if in the beginning the whole range had been dropped on the planet and
its own weight had shattered the eastern side, to settle from the
cracks or roll over upon the plains. Nels would travel close beside
him for hours; but if he ever did break away, Skag had only to call
quietly, "Nels, steady!" and Nels would return joyfully. He never
sulked.

Every morning now, Bhanah carefully stowed in Skag's coat, neat packets
of good and sufficient food for himself and the dog at noontime. Skag
had never been cared for in his life; he had neither training nor
inclination to direct a servant. But there was no need. Bhanah knew
perfectly well what was right to be done; and he was committed with his
whole heart to do it.

The order of Skag's life was being softly changed; but he only knew his
servant did many kind things for him which were very comfortable. He
was a little bothered when Bhanah called him "My Master"--having not
yet learned that servants in India never use that title, excepting in
affection which has nothing to do with servitude.

The morning came, when Roderick Deal arrived. Carlin had said that all
arrangements must be made with her eldest brother; and some tone within
her tone had impressed Skag with concern which amounted to
apprehension. But when he walked into Roderick Deal's office and met
the hand of Carlin's eldest brother--there was a light in his eye which
that Indian Sahib found good to see.

Roderick Deal overtopped the American by two inches. He was slender
and lithe. His countenance was extraordinary to Skag's eye for its
peculiar pallor; as if the dense black hair cast a shadow on intensely
white flesh--especially below the temples and across the forehead.
There was attraction; there was power. Skag saw this much while he
found the eyes; then he saw little else. He decided that Sanford
Hantee had never seen really black eyes before; the size startled him,
but the blackness shocked. (It was in the fortune of his life that he
should never solve the mystery of those eyes.) Skag felt the impact of
dynamic force, before he spoke:

"You will not expect enthusiasm from me, my son, when as the head of
one of the proudest families in all India, I render official consent,
upon conditions, to your marriage with my sister Carlin. . . . You are
too different from other men."

Skag had something to say, but he found no words.

"You are to be informed that the only sister of seven brothers is a
most important person. She is called the Seal of Fortune in India;
which is to say that good fortune for all her brothers is vested in
her. If calamity befalls her, there is no possible escape for them.
This is the established tradition of our Indian ancestors.

"We smile among ourselves at this tradition, as much as you do; but
there are reasons why we choose to preserve it, among many things from
those same Indian ancestors. We have no cause to hate them. Hate is
not in our family as in others of our class; but we never forget that
it is _our class_."

The brooding pain in the man was a revelation. Carlin had said, ". . .
there are things you must understand."

"You are already aware that we are English and Indian. But you do not
conceive what that means. It is my duty to speak. All life appears to
me first from the English standpoint; but you see the _shadow of India
under my skin_. All life appears to my sister first in the Indian
concept; but you will not easily find the shadow of India under her
skin. We have one brother--darker than the average native. . . . Are
you prepared to find such colour in one of your own?"

The question was gently spoken, but the eyes were like destiny.

"Any child of hers will be good to me," Skag answered softly.

A glow loomed in the blacknesses and Roderick Deal flashed Skag a smile
which reminded him, at last, of Carlin.

"European men, in the early days, were responsible for the branding,
now carried by thousands in India--carried with shame and the bitterest
sort of curses. But our line is unique in this regard. We are
conditioned by a pride, as great as the shame I have spoken of. On
account of it, no one of us may enter marriage without public ceremony
of as much circumstance as is expedient."

The storm-lights had gone down and a half-deprecatory, half-embarrassed
expression, made the face look so quite like any other man's, that Skag
smiled.

". . . Because we are descended from two extraordinary romances, both
of which were celebrated by the marriage of an imperial Indian
woman--one Brahmin, one Rajput--with a British man of noble family--one
Scotch, one Irish. Carlin will tell you the stories; she loves them."

Again the smile like Carlin's.

"So she must come down to Poona, where she was born; and the ceremony
must be performed in the cathedral here, by the Bishop himself--who is
a real man by the way, as well as distinguished."

. . . That was all right.

"You are to be published at the time of your marriage, in all the
English and vernacular printed sheets throughout India, specifically as
a scientist whose research will take you much into jungle life."

Roderick Deal paused for reply. Skag considered a moment and said
tentatively:

"If my work will come under that head?"

"Oh, quite! there is no question. And now I am come to the explanation
of my delay. There have been preparations to make; dealings with
Indian government. As you will understand, Government would be
entirely unapproachable by any man himself desiring such an
appointment. But influence is able to set in operation the examination
of his records; and if they are good enough, the rest can be
accomplished.

"Carlin convinced me that you would make no serious protest; and I am
assuring you that these conditions are really good fortune to you. But
they are imperative; it must be this way or not at all."

Skag was given opportunity to speak, but he had nothing to say, yet.

"You must enter the service of Indian government in the department of
Natural Research. The appointment will give you distinction not to be
scorned and a salary better than my own--which is very good."

After a moment's thought, Skag said:

"Will it tie me up?"

"Not in the least. On the contrary, it will make you free."

"What about my obligations?"

"Your obligations will be entirely vested in reports, which you will
turn in at your discretion. I understand that you already have
materials which would be considered highly valuable. Also, I hear that
you have fallen heir to Nels, the great hunting dog. Of the four that
are well known, he is easily the best. And he is young; he will bring
you experiences out of the jungle such as no man could find alone.
What the Indian Research department wants, is _knowledge of animals_."

"That's exactly what I want."

"Your Department will facilitate you, immensely. I speak positively,
because the initial work is finished; there remains nothing, but that
you shall come with me to the department offices and become enrolled.
However, not before you are properly outfitted. My tailoring-house
will take care of you."

"A uniform?"

"Not a uniform exactly, but strictly correct; rather military, but more
hunting; perfectly suitable and very comfortable. You'll be quite at
home in it. It's the sort for you."

The eyes measured Skag's outlines appraisingly, but betrayed nothing.

"We have not finished. The matter of clothing is adjacent to another
not less important. A foreigner in this country is nothing better than
a wild man, without a servant."

"I have one--" Skag spoke with inward satisfaction: "--Bhanah the old
cook, who did serve Police--"

"Not Police Commissioner Hichens' _Bhanah_?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"He came to me."

"Did you negotiate with him?"

"No."

"Then will you kindly tell me, why?"

"I do not know."

There was a marked pause. The eyes had become wide.

"Well--really . . . _Are_ you the sort-of-thing I've been hearing
about?"

Roderick Deal's expression was kindly-quaint; and Skag answered the
look rather than the words:

"How should I know what that is?"

"You _have_ astonished me. And I am pleased. From Bombay to Calcutta
and from Himalaya to Madras--you will find no more valuable man, than
that same Bhanah. He is called old, but he is not old. If you have
noticed, the term is always spoken as if it were one with his
name--because of his learning. He is the man of men for you. _How_
did he come to you?"

"He brought Nels with the note, that the dog was a gift. When he
spoke, he said he was committed before the gods to serve me as long as
he lived."

"How did his voice sound?"

"A queer, level tone."

"There is no doubt. _It is enough for one day_."

The words were spoken with almost affectionate inflections. Skag was
puzzled. Roderick Deal stepped to the door and spoke to a servant;
returning to his seat, he smiled openly into Skag's eyes before
speaking:

"Now you will come with me. We must lose no time."

"Yes, I want to get back to Hurda as soon as I can."

"Not before the monsoon breaks. It is due any day now, any hour. Till
ten days after it has broken, no sane man will take train."

"I want to get back. I think I will risk it."

"You will pardon me, you are not allowed."

The tone was perfect authority. The eyes smouldered, but the lips
smiled.

"You are not used to be in any way conditioned, I understand that; but
I am not willing to be responsible to my only sister for the smashed
body of her one man. Oh, I assure you _not_! And you may one day
grant that the guardianship of an elder brother is not a bad thing to
have. Why--I beg your pardon, but of course you are not here long
enough to know the situation."

He stopped abruptly and looked away, considering.

"I will put it in one word and tell you that _one_ moment _any_ train,
on _any_ track, may be perfectly safe; and the next moment, it may be
going down the khud with half a mountain. Again, we exercise the
utmost care in all bridge-building--with no reservation of resources;
but almost every year a bridge or more goes with the crash."

"The crash?"

"The reason why we say the great monsoon 'breaks' is not because itself
breaks, but because--whatever happens to be underneath, you understand."

The floor of protest had dropped away. Skag's face said as much.

"The tailors will need till the rails are safe to get you fitted; and
before the monsoon comes, I suggest that you take your hunter up into
the cheetah hills. Cheetahs are not supposed, by those at Home, to
attack men. Many of them will not; but they are unreliable. The
forfeits they have taken from unbelief have made them a bad reputation,
among the English."

Copyright (c) 2007. knowncrafts.net. All rights reserved.