The logs swayed and
chafed and groaned as fresh consignments from up-stream battered the now
weakening dam.
chafed and groaned as fresh consignments from up-stream battered the now
weakening dam.
Kipling - Poems
Namgay Doola!
" and a large, red-haired villager hurried up,
stripping off his clothes as he ran.
"That he is. That is the rebel! " said the king. "Now will the dam be
cleared. "
"But why has he red hair? " I asked, since red hair among hill-folk is as
uncommon as blue or green.
"He is an outlander," said the king. "Well done! Oh, well done! "
Namgay Doola had scrambled on the jam and was clawing out the butt of
a log with a rude sort of a boat-hook. It slid forward slowly, as an
alligator moves, and three or four others followed it. The green water
spouted through the gaps. Then the villagers howled and shouted and
leaped among the logs, pulling and pushing the obstinate timber, and the
red head of Namgay Doola was chief among them all.
The logs swayed and
chafed and groaned as fresh consignments from up-stream battered the now
weakening dam. It gave way at last in a smother of foam, racing butts,
bobbing black heads, and a confusion indescribable, as the river tossed
everything before it. I saw the red head go down with the last remnants
of the jam and disappear between the great grinding tree trunks. It rose
close to the hank, and blowing like a grampus, Namgay Doola wiped the
water out of his eyes and made obeisance to the king.
I had time to observe the man closely. The virulent redness of his shock
head and beard was most startling, and in the thicket of hair twinkled
above high cheek-bones two very merry blue eyes. He was indeed an
outlander, but yet a Thibetan in language, habit and attire. He spoke
the Lepcha dialect with an indescribable softening of the gutturals. It
was not so much a lisp as an accent.
"Whence comest thou? " I asked, wondering.
"From Thibet. " He pointed across the hills and grinned. That grin went
straight to my heart. Mechanically I held out my hand and Namgay Doola
took it. No pure Thibetan would have understood the meaning of the
gesture.
stripping off his clothes as he ran.
"That he is. That is the rebel! " said the king. "Now will the dam be
cleared. "
"But why has he red hair? " I asked, since red hair among hill-folk is as
uncommon as blue or green.
"He is an outlander," said the king. "Well done! Oh, well done! "
Namgay Doola had scrambled on the jam and was clawing out the butt of
a log with a rude sort of a boat-hook. It slid forward slowly, as an
alligator moves, and three or four others followed it. The green water
spouted through the gaps. Then the villagers howled and shouted and
leaped among the logs, pulling and pushing the obstinate timber, and the
red head of Namgay Doola was chief among them all.
The logs swayed and
chafed and groaned as fresh consignments from up-stream battered the now
weakening dam. It gave way at last in a smother of foam, racing butts,
bobbing black heads, and a confusion indescribable, as the river tossed
everything before it. I saw the red head go down with the last remnants
of the jam and disappear between the great grinding tree trunks. It rose
close to the hank, and blowing like a grampus, Namgay Doola wiped the
water out of his eyes and made obeisance to the king.
I had time to observe the man closely. The virulent redness of his shock
head and beard was most startling, and in the thicket of hair twinkled
above high cheek-bones two very merry blue eyes. He was indeed an
outlander, but yet a Thibetan in language, habit and attire. He spoke
the Lepcha dialect with an indescribable softening of the gutturals. It
was not so much a lisp as an accent.
"Whence comest thou? " I asked, wondering.
"From Thibet. " He pointed across the hills and grinned. That grin went
straight to my heart. Mechanically I held out my hand and Namgay Doola
took it. No pure Thibetan would have understood the meaning of the
gesture.
