No More Learning

It was the whooping of Namgay Doola.

"You see now," said the king, "why I would not kill him. He is a bold
man among my logs, but," and he shook his head like a schoolmaster, "I
know that before long there will be complaints of him in the court. Let
us return to the palace and do justice. "

It was that king's custom to judge his subjects every day between eleven
and three o'clock. I heard him do justice equitably on weighty matters
of trespass, slander, and a little wife-stealing. Then his brow clouded
and he summoned me.

"Again it is Namgay Doola," he said, despairingly. "Not content with
refusing revenue on his own part, he has bound half his village by an
oath to the like treason. Never before has such a thing befallen me! Nor
are my taxes heavy. "

A rabbit-faced villager, with a blush-rose stuck behind his ear,
advanced trembling. He had been in Namgay Doola's conspiracy, but had
told everything and hoped for the king's favor.

"Oh, king! " said I, "if it be the king's will, let this matter stand
over till the morning.
Only the gods can do right in a hurry, and it may
be that yonder villager has lied. "

"Nay, for I know the nature of Namgay Doola; but since a guest asks,
let the matter remain. Wilt thou, for my sake, speak harshly to this
red-headed outlander? He may listen to thee. "

I made an attempt that very evening, but for the life of me I could not
keep my countenance. Namgay Doola grinned so persuasively and began to
tell me about a big brown bear in a poppy field by the river. Would
I care to shoot that bear? I spoke austerely on the sin of detected
conspiracy and the certainty of punishment. Namgay Doola's face clouded
for a moment. Shortly afterward he withdrew from my tent, and I heard
him singing softly among the pines. The words were unintelligible to me,
but the tune, like his liquid, insinuating speech, seemed the ghost of
something strangely familiar.

"Dir hane mard-i-yemen dir To weeree ala gee," crooned Namgay Doola
again and again, and I racked my brain for that lost tune. It was not
till after dinner that I discovered some one had cut a square foot of
velvet from the centre of my best camera-cloth. This made me so angry
that I wandered down the valley in the hope of meeting the big brown
bear. I could hear him grunting like a discontented pig in the poppy
field as I waited shoulder deep in the dew-dripping Indian corn to catch
him after his meal. The moon was at full and drew out the scent of the
tasseled crop.