Guns of the Gods | Page 7

I'd found the gold and was trying to hide
it. Say, if I don't find gold in his blamed hills eventually--!"
"You'll find it, Dick. You never failed at anything you really set your
heart on. With your experience--"
"Experience doesn't count for much," he answered, blowing at his tea to
cool it. "It's not like coal or manganese. Gold is where you find it.

There are no rules."
"Finding it's your trade. Go ahead."
"I'm not afraid of that. What eats me," he said, standing up and looking
down at her, "is what I've heard about their passion for revenge. Every
one has the same story. If you disappoint them, gee whiz, look out!
Poisoning your wife's a sample of what they'll do. It's crossed my mind
a score of times, little girl, that you ought to go back to the States and
wait there till I'm through--"
She stood on tiptoe and kissed him.
"Isn't that just like a man!"
"All the same--"
"Go in, Dick, and get dressed, or the sun will be too high before you get
the gang started."
She took his arm and they went into the house together. Twenty
minutes later he rode away on his pony, looking if possible even more
of an athlete than in his pajamas, for there was an added suggestion of
accomplishment in the rolled-up sleeves and scarred boots laced to the
knee. Their leave-taking was a purely American episode, mixed of
comradeship, affection and just plain foolishness, witnessed by more
wondering, patient Indian eyes than they suspected. Every move that
either of them made was always watched.
As a matter of fact Chamu's attention was almost entirely taken up just
then by the crows, iniquitous black humorists that took advantage of
turned backs (for Tess walked beside the pony to the gate) to rifle the
remains of chota hazri, one of them flying off with a spoon since the
rest had all the edibles. Chamu threw a cushion at the spoon-thief and
called him "Balibuk," which means eater of the temple offerings, and is
an insult beyond price.
"That's the habit of crows," he explained indignantly to Tess as she
returned, laughing, to the veranda, picking up the cushion on her way.
"They are without shame. Garud, who is king of all the birds, should
turn them into fish; then they could swim in water and be caught with
hooks. But first Blaine sahib should shoot them with a shotgun."
Having offered that wise solution of the problem Chamu stood with fat
hands folded on his stomach.
"The crows steal less than some people," Tess answered pointedly.
He preferred to ignore the remark.

"Or there might be poison added to some food, and the food left for
them to see," he suggested, whereat she astonished him, American
women being even more incomprehensible than their English cousins.
"If you talk to me about poison I'll send you back to Gungadhura in
disgrace. Take away the breakfast things at once."
"That is the hamal's business," he retorted pompously. "The maharajah
sahib is knowing me for most excellent butler. He himself has given me
already very high recommendation. Will he permit opinions of other
people to contradict him?"
The words "opinions of women" had trembled on his lips but intuition
saved that day. It flashed across even his obscene mentality that he
might suggest once too often contempt for Western folk who worked
for Eastern potentates. It was true he regarded the difference between a
contract and direct employment as merely a question of degree, and a
quibble in any case, and he felt pretty sure that the Blaines would not
risk the maharajah's unchancy friendship by dismissing himself; but he
suspected there were limits. He could not imagine why, but he had
noticed that insolence to Blaine himself was fairly safe, Blaine being
super-humanly indifferent as long as Mrs. Blaine was shown respect,
even exceeding the English in the absurd length to which he carried it.
It was a mad world in Chamu's opinion. He went and fetched the hamal,
who slunk through his task with the air of a condemned felon. Tess
smiled at the man for encouragement, but Chamu's instant jealousy was
so obvious that she regretted the mistake.
"Now call up the beggars and feed them," she ordered.
"Feed them? They will not eat. It is contrary to caste."
"Nonsense. They have no caste. Bring bread and feed them."
"There is no bread of the sort they will eat."
"I know exactly what you mean. If I give them bread there's no profit
for you--they'll eat it all; but if I give them money you'll exact a
commission from them of one pesa in five. Isn't that so? Go and bring
the bread."
He decided to turn the