No More Learning

"

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. Then I heard the anguished bellow of a Himalayan cow--one
of the little black crummies no bigger than Newfoundland dogs. Two
shadows that looked like a bear and her cub hurried past me. I was in
the act of firing when I saw that each bore a brilliant red head.
The
lesser animal was trailing something rope-like that left a dark track
on the path. They were within six feet of me, and the shadow of the
moonlight lay velvet-black on their faces. Velvet-black was exactly the
word, for by all the powers of moonlight they were masked in the velvet
of my camera-cloth. I marveled, and went to bed.

Next morning the kingdom was in an uproar. Namgay Doola, men said, had
gone forth in the night and with a sharp knife had cut off the tail of a
cow belonging to the rabbit-faced villager who had betrayed him. It was
sacrilege unspeakable against the holy cow. The state desired his blood,
but he had retreated into his hut, barricaded the doors and windows with
big stones, and defied the world.

The king and I and the populace approached the hut cautiously. There was
no hope of capturing our man without loss of life, for from a hole in
the wall projected the muzzle of an extremely well-cared-for gun--the
only gun in the state that could shoot. Namgay Doola had narrowly missed
a villager just before we came up.

The standing army stood.

It could do no more, for when it advanced pieces of sharp shale flew
from the windows. To these were added from time to time showers of
scalding water. We saw red beads bobbing up and down within. The family
of Namgay Doola were aiding their sire.