The Adventures of Kathlyn | Page 9

Rao was a Mohammedan himself, so they listened and
obeyed.
All this the first day and night out. On the following morning a leopard
crossed the trail. Kathlyn seized her rifle and broke its spine. The
jabbering of the mahouts would have amused her at any other time.
"Good, Mem-sahib," whispered Rao. "You have put fear into their
devils' hearts. Good! Chup!" he called. "Stop your noise."
After that they gave Kathlyn's dog tent plenty of room.
One day, in the heart of a natural clearing, she saw a tree. Its blossoms
and leaves were as scarlet as the seeds of a pomegranate.
"Oh, how beautiful! What is it, Rao?"
"The flame of the jungle, Mem-sahib. It is good luck to see it on a
journey."
About the tree darted gay parrakeets and fat green parrots. The green
plumage of the birds against the brilliant scarlet of the tree was
indescribably beautiful. Everywhere was life, everywhere was color.
Once, as the natives seated themselves of the evening round their dung
fire while Kathlyn busied with the tea over a wood fire, a tiger roared
near by. The elephants trumpeted and the mahouts rose in terror.
Kathlyn ran for her rifle, but the trumpeting of the elephants was
sufficient to send the striped cat to other hunting-grounds. Wild ape and
pig abounded, and occasionally a caha wriggled out of the sun into the
brittle grasses. Very few beasts or reptiles are aggressive; it is only
when they feel cornered that they turn. Even the black panther, the
most savage of all cats, will rarely offer battle except when attacked.
Meantime the man who had followed Kathlyn arrived at the city.

Five hours later Kathlyn stepped out of her howdah, gave Rao the
money for the mahouts and looked about. This was the gate to the
capital. How many times had her father passed through it? Her jaw set
and her eyes flashed. Whatever dangers beset her she was determined
to meet them with courage and patience.
"Rao, you had better return to Calcutta. What I have to do must be done
alone."
"Very good. But I shall remain here till the Mem-sahib returns." Rao
salaamed.
"And if I should not return?" affected by this strange loyalty.
"Then I shall seek Bruce Sahib, who has a camp twenty miles east."
"Bruce? But he is in Singapore!"--a quickening of her pulses.
"Who can say where Bruce Sahib is? He is like a shadow, there to-day,
here to-morrow. I have been his servant, Mem-sahib, and that is how I
am to-day yours. I received a telegram to call at your hotel and apply to
you for service. Very good. I shall wait. The mahout here will take you
directly to Hare Sahib's bungalow. You will find your father's servants
there, and all will be well. A week, then. If you do not send for me I
seek Bruce Sahib, and we shall return with many. Some will speak
English at the bungalow."
"Thank you, Rao. I shall not forget."
"Neither will Bruce Sahib," mysteriously. Rao salaamed.
Kathlyn got into the howdah and passed through the gates. Bruce Sahib,
the quiet man whose hand had reached out over seas thus strangely to
reassure her! A hardness came into her throat and she swallowed
desperately. She was only twenty-four. Except for herself there might
not be a white person in all this sprawling, rugged principality. From
time to time the new mahout turned and smiled at her curiously, but she
was too absorbed to note his attentions.

Durga Ram, called lightly Umballa, went directly to the palace, where
he knew the Council of Three solemnly awaited his arrival. He dashed
up the imposing flight of marble steps, exultant. He had fulfilled his
promise; the golden daughter of Hare Sahib was but a few miles away.
The soldiers, guarding the entrance, presented their arms respectfully;
but instantly after Umballa disappeared the expression on their faces
was not pleasing.
Umballa hurried along through the deep corridor, supported by
exquisitely carved marble columns. Beauty in stone was in evidence
everywhere and magnificent brass lamps hung from the ceiling. There
was a shrine topped by an idol in black marble, incrusted with
sapphires and turquoises. Durga Ram, who shall be called Umballa,
nodded slightly as he passed it. Force of habit, since in his heart there
was only one religion--self.
He stopped at a door guarded by a single soldier, who saluted but spat
as soon as Umballa had passed into the throne room. The throne itself
was vacant. The Council of Three rose at the approach of Umballa.
"She is here," he said haughtily.
The council salaamed.
Umballa stroked his chin as he gazed at the huge candles flickering at
each side of the throne. He sniffed the Tibetan incense, and