No More Learning

The inhabitants, whoever they might be, had not
thought fit to put in an appearance, so I was left to my own devices. My
first attempt to "rush" Pornic up the steep sand-banks showed me that
I had fallen into a trap exactly on the same model as that which the
ant-lion sets for its prey. At each step the shifting sand poured down
from above in tons, and rattled on the drip-boards of the holes like
small shot. A couple of ineffectual charges sent us both rolling down to
the bottom, half choked with the torrents of sand; and I was constrained
to turn my attention to the river-bank.

Here everything seemed easy enough. The sand hills ran down to the river
edge, it is true, but there were plenty of shoals and shallows across
which I could gallop Pornic, and find my way back to terra firma by
turning sharply to the right or left. As I led Pornic over the sands I
was startled by the faint pop of a rifle across the river; and at the
same moment a bullet dropped with a sharp "whit" close to Pornic's head.

There was no mistaking the nature of the missile-a regulation
Martini-Henry "picket. " About five hundred yards away a country-boat was
anchored in midstream; and a jet of smoke drifting away from its bows in
the still morning air showed me whence the delicate attention had come.
Was ever a respectable gentleman in such an impasse? The treacherous
sand slope allowed no escape from a spot which I had visited most
involuntarily, and a promenade on the river frontage was the signal for
a bombardment from some insane native in a boat. I'm afraid that I lost
my temper very much indeed.

Another bullet reminded me that I had better save my breath to cool
my porridge; and I retreated hastily up the sands and back to the
horseshoe, where I saw that the noise of the rifle had drawn sixty-five
human beings from the badger-holes which I had up till that point
supposed to be untenanted. I found myself in the midst of a crowd of
spectators--about forty men, twenty women, and one child who could not
have been more than five years old. They were all scantily clothed in
that salmon-colored cloth which one associates with Hindu mendicants,
and, at first sight, gave me the impression of a band of loathsome
fakirs.
The filth and repulsiveness of the assembly were beyond
all description, and I shuddered to think what their life in the
badger-holes must be.

Even in these days, when local self government has destroyed the greater
part of a native's respect for a Sahib, I have been accustomed to a
certain amount of civility from my inferiors, and on approaching the
crowd naturally expected that there would be some recognition of my
presence. As a matter of fact there was; but it was by no means what I
had looked for.

The ragged crew actually laughed at me--such laughter I hope I may never
hear again. They cackled, yelled, whistled, and howled as I walked into
their midst; some of them literally throwing themselves down on the
ground in convulsions of unholy mirth. In a moment I had let go Pornic's
head, and irritated beyond expression at the morning's adventure,
commenced cuffing those nearest to me with all the force I could. The
wretches dropped under my blows like nine-pins, and the laughter gave
place to wails for mercy; while those yet untouched clasped me round the
knees, imploring me in all sorts of uncouth tongues to spare them.

In the tumult, and just when I was feeling very much ashamed of myself
for having thus easily given way to my temper, a thin, high voice
murmured in English from behind my shoulder: "--Sahib! Sahib! Do you not
know me? Sahib, it is Gunga Dass, the telegraph-master. "

I spun round quickly and faced the speaker.

Gunga Dass, (I have, of course, no hesitation in mentioning the man's
real name) I had known four years before as a Deccanee Brahmin loaned by
the Punjab Government to one of the Khalsia States. He was in charge
of a branch telegraph-office there, and when I had last met him was
a jovial, full-stomached, portly Government servant with a marvelous
capacity for making had puns in English--a peculiarity which made
me remember him long after I had forgotten his services to me in his
official capacity. It is seldom that a Hindu makes English puns.

Now, however, the man was changed beyond all recognition.