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Jungle Girl

<h2> CHAPTER VII </h2> <h3> IN THE TERAI JUNGLE </h3> In the pleasant light of the morning the little outpost looked as charming to Wargrave as it had done on the previous evening. Above Ranga Duar the mountains towered to the pale blue sky, while below it the foot-hills fell in steps to the broad sea of foliage of the great forest stretching away to the distant plains seen vaguely through the haze. The horse-shoe hollow in which the tiny station was set was bowered in vegetation. The gardens glowed with the varied hues of flowers, and were bounded by hedges of wild roses. The road and paths were bordered by the tall, graceful plumes of the bamboo and shaded by giant mango and banyan trees, their boughs clothed with orchids. Frank had noticed the previous day that the Fort, barracks and bungalows were all newly built, and he learned that during the great war which had raged along the frontiers of India five years before, the post had been fiercely attacked by an army of Chinese and Bhutanese and the little station practically wiped out of existence, although victory had finally rested with the few survivors of the garrison. From the first the subaltern took a great liking to the tall Punjaubi Mahommedan and hook-nosed, fair-skinned Pathan native officers and sepoys of the detachment. The work was light and scarcely required two British officers; and Frank soon found that Major Hunt, who seemed driven by a demon of quiet energy, preferred to do most of it himself. Frank got the impression that to the elder man occupation was an anodyne for some secret sorrow. Although the subaltern had no wish to shirk his duty he could not but be glad that his superior officer seemed always ready to dispense with his aid, for thus he would find it easier to get permission to go shooting. His first excursion into the jungle was arranged at dinner at the Dermots' house on his second evening in Ranga Duar. The Colonel proposed to take him out on the following Monday, for on the next day the Deb Zimpun would arrive. "He always brings a big train of Bhuttias with him, eighty swordsmen as an escort to the small army of coolies necessary to carry a hundred thousand silver rupees in boxes over the Himalayan passes. I like to give them the flesh of a few sambhur stags as a treat," said the Colonel. "Hiven hilp ye av ye bring any sambhur flesh to the Mess, Wargrave," said Burke. "We want something we can get our teeth into. No, we expect a khakur from you." "What's a khakur?" asked Frank. "It's the muntjac or barking deer," replied Dermot. "You wouldn't know it if you haven't shot in forests. It gets its English name from its call, which is not unlike a dog's bark." "Whin ye hear one saying 'Wonk! Wonk!' in the jungle, Wargrave, get up the nearest tree; for the khakur is warning all whom it may concern that there's a tiger in the immajit vicinity." Frank had already learned to distrust most of Burke's statements on sport, for the doctor was an inveterate joker. So he looked to the Political Officer for confirmation. "Yes, it's supposed to be the case," agreed the Colonel. "And I've more than once heard a tiger loudly express his annoyance when a khakur barked as he was trying to sneak by unnoticed. There's a barking-deer." He pointed to the well-mounted head of a small deer on the wall of the dining-room. "Whom do you expect up for the Durbar, Mrs. Dermot?" asked Major Hunt. "Only Mr. Carter, the Sub-divisional Officer, and probably Mr. Benson." "Eh—is—isn't Miss Benson coming too?" asked the doctor in a hesitating manner so unlike his usual cheery and assured self that Frank looked at him. It seemed to him that Burke was blushing. "Oh, yes, I hope so," replied Mrs. Dermot. "Er—haven't you heard from her?" persisted the doctor anxiously. "I had a letter this afternoon brought by a coolie. Muriel wrote to say that they were in the Buxa Reserve but hoped to get here in time. I'm looking forward to her coming immensely. It's four months since I saw her." Frank could not help noticing that Burke seemed to hang on Mrs. Dermot's words; and he began to wonder if the unknown lady held the doctor's heart. "It's rather hard on a girl like Miss Benson to have to lead such a lonely life and rough it constantly in the jungle as she does," remarked Major Hunt. "At her age she must want gaiety and amusement." "Muriel doesn't mind it," replied the hostess. "She loves jungle life. And she thinks that her father couldn't get on without her." "Sure, she's right there, Mrs. Dermot," cried Burke. "The dear ould boy'ud lose his head av he hadn't her to hould it on for him. She does most av his work. It's a sight to see that slip av a girl bossing all the forest guards and habus and giving them their ordhers." Wargrave was anxious to hear more of this girl, in whom it appeared to him Burke was very much interested; but Colonel Dermot broke in: "Talking of orders, have you any for the butcher's man, Noreen?" he asked, smiling at his wife. "Yes, dear; will you please bring me a khakur and some jungle fowl? And if you can manage it a brace of Kalej pheasants," said the good housewife seriously. "Well, Wargrave, we've both got our orders and know what to bring back from the jungle," said the Colonel, turning to Frank, who was sitting beside him. Then the conversation between them drifted into sporting channels until all adjourned outside for coffee on the verandah. Next afternoon the subaltern, passing down the road, was hailed from the Dermots' garden by an imperious small lady with golden curls and big blue bows and ordered to play with her. Her brother and Badshah had to join in the game, too. Frank, chasing the dainty mite round and round the elephant, began to think himself in the Garden of Eden. But that same evening he found that his Himalayan Paradise was not without its serpent. The three officers of the detachment were seated at dinner on the Mess verandah, Major Hunt with his back to the rough stone wall of the building. A swinging oil lamp with a metal shade threw the light downward and left the ceiling and upper part of the wall in shadow. When dinner was ended the Commandant, lighting a cheerot, tilted his chair on its back legs until his head nearly touched the wall. Frank, talking to him, chanced to look up at the roof. He stared into the shadows for a moment, then, suddenly grasping the astonished major by the collar, jerked him out of his chair. And as he did so a snake, a deadly hill-viper, which had been trying to climb up the rough face of the wall, slipped and dropped on to the Commandant's chair, slid to the floor and glided across the verandah and down into the garden before anyone could find a stick with which to attack it. Major Hunt, his sallow face a little paler than usual, looked up at the wall to see if any more reptiles were likely to follow, then sat down again calmly. "Thank you, Wargrave," he said quietly. "But for you that brute would have got me. And his bite is death. Ranga's full of snakes, like all these places in the hills. We've killed several in the Mess since I've been here; but no one's had such a close shave as this. I'll stand you a drink for that. Hi, boy!" But for all this quiet manner of taking it Frank had made a staunch friend that night by his prompt action. As Burke took the filled glass that the Gurkha mess-servant brought him at the Major's order he said: "I hate snakes worse than the Divil hates holy wather. They're the only things in life I'm afraid av. I never go to bed without looking under the pillow nor put on my boots in the morning without first turning them up and shaking them. I wish St. Pathrick had made a trip to India and dhriven the sarpints out av the counthry the same as he did in Ireland." "We've the worst snake in the world, I believe, here in the Terai, Wargrave," said Major Hunt. "Look out for it when you're in the jungle. It's the hamadryad or king-cobra. Have you heard of it?" "I saw the skin of one sixteen feet long in a Bombay museum, sir," replied the subaltern. "It's the only snake in Asia that will attack human beings unprovoked; it's deadly poisonous, unlike all other big snakes, and they say it moves so fast that it can overtake a man on a pony. Benson, the Forest Officer of the district, tells me there are many of them in the jungles here." "One av the divils chased Dermot's elephant once and turned on the Colonel when he interfered. It got its head blown off for its pains," put in the doctor. "Don't tell me any more, Burke," exclaimed Wargrave laughing, "or I won't be able to sleep to-night." He pushed back his chair as the Commandant rose from the table and, saying goodnight to the two junior officers, picked up from the verandah and lit a hurricane lantern and walked down the Mess steps with it on his way home to his bungalow. Europeans in India do not care to move about at night without a lamp lest in the darkness they might tread on a snake. Early on the following Monday morning Wargrave, dressed in khaki knickerbockers, shirt and puttees, and wearing besides his pith helmet a "spine protector"—a quilted cloth pad buttoned to the back—as a guard against sunstroke, went down to the Dermots' bungalow. In the garden the Colonel, also prepared for their shooting expedition, stood talking to his wife, while their children were trying to climb up Badshah's legs. The elephant was equipped with a light pad provided with large pockets into which were thrust Thermos flasks, packets of sandwiches and of cartridges. Close by two servants were holding guns. "Good morning, Wargrave," said the Colonel, as the subaltern greeted him and his wife. "You're in good time." Eileen, deserting Badshah, ran to Frank and demanded to be lifted up and kissed. When he had obeyed the small tyrant, he said: "I haven't brought a rifle, sir." "That's right. I have one and a ball-and-shot gun for you. We'll walk down to the peelkhana by a short cut through the hills to look for kalej pheasant on the way. Take the gun with you and load one barrel with shot; but put a bullet in the other, for you never know what we may meet. Badshah will go down by the road, as well as one of the servants to bring the rifles and tell the mahouts to get a detachment elephant ready. It will follow us in the jungle to carry any animals we kill, while we'll ride Badshah." Kissing his wife and children the Colonel led the way down the road, followed by Frank and the servant, Badshah walking unattended behind them. "Good sport, Mr. Wargrave!" called out Mrs. Dermot, as the subaltern turned at the gate to take off his hat in a farewell salute; and the little coquette beside her kissed her tiny hand to him. After they had gone half a mile the two officers, carrying their fowling-pieces, turned off along a footpath through the undergrowth, leaving the servant and the elephant to continue down the road. The track led steeply down the mountain-side, at first between high, closely-matted bushes, and then through scrub-jungle dotted with small trees, among the foliage of which gleamed the yellow fruit of the limes and the plantain's glossy drooping leaves and long curving stalks from which the nimble fingers of wild monkeys had plucked the ripe bananas. Here and there the ground was open; and the path following a natural depression in the hills gave down the gradually widening valley a view of the panorama of forest and plain lying below. As they passed a clump of tangled bushes a rustle and a pattering over the dry leaves under them caught the Colonel's ear. "Look out! Kalej," he whispered, picking up a stone and throwing it into the cover. A large speckled black and white bird whirred out; and Wargrave brought it down. "Good shot! There's another," called out Dermot, and fired with equal success. "We're lucky," he continued. "As a rule they won't break, but scuttle along under the bushes, so that one often has to shoot them running." Frank picked up the birds and examined them with interest before the Colonel stuffed them into his game bag and moved on down the path, which was growing steeper. The trees became more numerous and larger as they descended nearer the forest. Out of another clump of bushes the sportsmen succeeded in getting a second brace of pheasants. Lower down they passed through a belt of bamboos, where in one spot the long feathery boughs were broken off or twisted in wild confusion for a space of fifty yards' radius. "Wild elephants," said the Political Officer briefly and pointed to a patch of dust in which was the round imprint of a huge foot. Frank was a little startled; for he felt that against these great animals the bullets in their guns would be useless. "Are they dangerous, sir?" he asked. "Not as a rule when they are in a herd, although cow-elephants with calves may be so, fearing peril for their young. But sometimes a bull takes to a solitary life, becomes vicious and develops into a dangerous rogue. It probably happens that, finding crops growing near a jungle village and raiding them, he is driven off by the cultivators, turns savage and kills some of them. Then he usually seems to take a hatred to all human beings and attacks them on sight. Hallo! here we are at the peelkhana at last." They had reached the high wooden building which housed the three transport elephants of the detachment. In the clearing before it Badshah and another animal were standing, a group of mahouts and coolies near them. "We'll mount and start at once," said Colonel Dermot, beckoning to his elephant, which came to him. "Get up, Wargrave." The subaltern looked up doubtfully at the pad on Badshah's back. "How can I, sir? Isn't he going to kneel?" he asked. "Put your foot on his trunk when he crooks it and grab hold of his ears. He'll lift you up then." The understanding elephant at once curled its trunk invitingly and cocked its great ears forward. Frank did as he was directed and found himself raised in the air until he was able to get on to the elephant's head and from it scrambled on to the pad. Dermot followed and seated himself astride the huge neck. "Mul! (Go on!)" he ejaculated. With a swaying, lurching stride Badshah at once moved across the clearing, followed by the transport elephant, on to which a mahout and a coolie had climbed, and plunged into the dense undergrowth which was so high that it nearly closed over the riders' heads. The sudden change from the blinding glare of the sun to the enchanting green gloom of the forest, from the intense heat to the refreshing coolness of the shade, was delightful. Beyond the clearing the vegetation was tangled and rank, high grass concealing thorny shrubs, tall matted bushes covered with large, white, bell-shaped flowers, all so dense that men on foot could not push their way through. But it divided like water before the leading elephant's weight and strength. The trees were now not the lesser growths of bamboo, lime and sago-palm that covered the foot-hills. They were the great forest giants, enormous teak, sal and simal trees, towering up bare of branches for a good height above the ground, rising to the green canopy overhead and thrusting their leafy crowns through it, seeking their share of the sunlight. Their massive branches were matted thick with the glossy green leaves of orchid-plants and draped with long trails of the beautiful mauve and white blossoms of the exotic flowers. Hanging from the highest branches or swinging between the massive boles creepers of every kind rioted in bewildering confusion, a chaos of natural cordage, of festooned lianas thick as a liner's hawser, some twisting around each other, others coiling about the tree-trunks, biting deep into the bark or striving to strangle them in a cruel grip. Not even the elephants' weight and strength could burst through the stout network of these creepers in places. While they tore at the obstructions with their trunks it was necessary for their drivers to hack through the creepers with their sharp kukris—the heavy curved knives carried in their belts and similar to the Gurkha's favourite weapon. Here and there the party came upon glades free from undergrowth, where in the cool shade of the great trees the ground was knee-deep in bracken. In one such spot Wargrave's eye was caught by a flash of bright colour, and his rifle went half-way to his shoulder, only to be lowered again when he saw two sambhur hinds, graceful animals with glossy chestnut hides, watching the advancing elephants curiously but without fear. For, used to seeing wild ones, they did not realise that Badshah and his companion carried human beings. Their sex saved them from the hunters who, leaving them unscathed, passed on and plunged into the dense undergrowth on the far side of the clearing. The elephants fed continually as they moved along. Sweeping up great bunches of grass, tearing down trails of leafy creepers, breaking off branches from the trees, they crammed them all impartially into their mouths. Picking up twigs in their trunks they used them to beat their sides and legs to drive off stinging insects or, snuffing up dust from the ground, blew clouds of it along their bellies for the same purpose. Suddenly the Colonel stopped Badshah and whispered: "There's a sambhur stag, Wargrave. There, to your left in the undergrowth. Have a shot at him." The subaltern looked everywhere eagerly, but in the dense tangle could not discern the animal. Like all novices in the jungle he directed his gaze too far away; and suddenly a dark patch of deep shadow in the undergrowth close by materialised itself into the black hide of a stag only as it dashed off. It had been standing within fifteen paces of the elephants, knowing the value of immobility as a shield. At last its nerve failed it; and it revealed itself by breaking away. But as it fled Colonel Dermot's rifle spoke; and the big deer crumpled up and fell crashing through the vegetation to the ground. The second elephant's mahout, a grey-bearded Mahommedan, slipped instantly to the earth and, drawing his kukri, struggled through the arresting creepers and undergrowth to where the stag lay feebly moving its limbs. Seizing one horn he performed the hallal, that is, he cut its throat to let blood while there was still life in the animal, muttering the short Mussulman creed as he did so. For his religion enjoins this hygienic practice—borrowed by the Prophet from the Mosaic law—to guard against long-dead carrion being eaten. At the touch of the Colonel's hand Badshah sank to its knees; and Wargrave, very annoyed with himself for his slowness in detecting the deer, forced his way through the undergrowth to examine it. The stag was a fine beast fourteen hands high, with sharp brow antlers and a pair of thick, stunted horns branching at the ends into two points. Leaving the elephants to graze freely the mahout and his coolie disembowelled the sambhur and hacked off the head with their heavy kukris. Aided by the Political Officer and Wargrave they skinned the animal and then with the skill of professional butchers proceeded to cut up the carcase into huge joints. While they were thus engaged the Colonel went to a small, straight-stemmed tree common in the jungle and, clearing away a patch of the outer mottled bark, disclosed a white inner skin, which he cut off in long strips. With these, which formed unbreakable cordage, they fastened the heavy joints to the pad of the transport elephant. When this was done Wargrave, looking at his hands covered with blood and grime, said ruefully: "How on earth are we to get clean, sir? Is there any water in the jungle? We haven't seen any." The Political Officer, looking about him, pointed to a thick creeper with withered-seeming bark and said with a laugh: "There's your water, Wargrave. Lots of it on tap. See here." He cut off a length of the liana, which contained a whitish, pulpy interior. From the two ends of the piece water began to drip steadily and increased to a thin stream. "By George, sir, that's a plant worth knowing," said Frank. "It's a most useful jungle product," said the Colonel, holding it up so that his companion, using clay as soap, could wash his hands. "It's called the pani bel—water-creeper. One need never die of thirst in a forest where it is found. Try the water in it." He raised it so that the clear liquid flowed into the subaltern's mouth. It was cool, palatable and tasteless. "By George, sir, that's good," exclaimed Wargrave, examining the plant carefully. "Now let me hold it for you." After Dermot and the two natives had cleansed their hands and arms the party moved on, the transport elephant looking like an itinerant butcher's shop as it followed Badshah. Again the undergrowth parted before the great animals like the sea cleft by the bows of a ship and closed similarly behind them when they had passed. Of its own volition the leader swerved one side or the other when it was necessary to avoid a tree-trunk or too dense a tangle of obstructing creepers. But once Dermont touched and turned it sharply out of its course to escape what seemed a very large lump of clay adhering to the under side of an overhanging bough in their path. "A wild bees' nest," said the Colonel, pointing to it. "It wouldn't do to risk hitting against that and being stung to death by its occupants." A few minutes later he suddenly arrested Badshah at the edge of a fern-carpeted glade and whispered: "Look out! There's a barking-deer. Get him!" Across the glade a graceful little buck with a bright chestnut coat stepped daintily, followed at a respectful distance by his doe. Their restless ears pointed incessantly this way and that for every warning sound as they moved; but neither saw the elephants hidden in the undergrowth. Raising his rifle Frank took a quick aim at the buck's shoulder and fired. The deer pitched forward and fell dead, while its startled mate swung round and leapt wildly away. "A good shot of yours, Wargrave," remarked Colonel Dermot, when Badshah had advanced to the prostrate animal. "Broke its shoulder and pierced the heart." Frank looked down pityingly at the pretty little deer stretched lifeless among the ferns. "It seems a shame to slaughter a harmless thing like that," he said. "Yes; I always feel the same myself and never kill except for food," replied the Political Officer. "Unless of course it's a dangerous beast like a tiger. Well, the khakur is too dead to hallal; but that doesn't matter, as we're going to eat it ourselves and not give it to the sepoys." The mahout and the coolie were already cleaning the deer and, without troubling to cut it up, bound its legs together with udal fibre and tied it to the pad of their elephant; and the party moved on again. Half a mile further on the silence of the forest was broken by the loud crowing of a cock, taken up and answered defiantly by others. "Hallo! are we near a village, sir?" asked Wargrave, surprised at the familiar sounds so far in the heart of the wild. "No; those are jungle-fowl," whispered the Political Officer. "Get your gun ready." He halted the elephant and picked up his fowling-piece. Frank hurriedly substituted a shot cartridge for the one loaded with ball in his gun. He heard a pattering on the dry leaves under the trees and into a fairly open space before them stalked a pretty little bantam cock with red comb and wattles and curving green tail-feathers, followed by four or five sober brown hens, so like in every respect to domestic fowl that Wargrave hesitated to shoot. But suddenly the birds whirred up into the air; and, as the Colonel gave them both barrels, Frank did the same. The cock and three of his wives dropped. The mahout urged his elephant forward and made the reluctant animal pick up the crumpled bunches of blood-stained feathers in its curving trunk and pass them to him. Colonel Dermont searched the jungle for some distance around but could not find the other jungle-cocks that had answered the dead one's challenge. Looking at his watch he suggested a halt for lunch, which Wargrave, whose back was beginning to ache with fatigue, gladly agreed to. Dismounting, they sat on the ground and ate and drank the contents of the pockets of Badshah's pad, but with loaded rifles beside them lest their meal should be disturbed by any dangerous denizen of the jungle. The two natives sat down some distance away and, turning their backs on each other, drew out cloths in which their midday repast of chupatis, or thick pancakes, with curry and an onion or two was tied up. The elephants left to themselves grazed close by and did not attempt to wander away. Their meal and a smoke finished the party mounted again and moved on. But luck seemed to have deserted them. Much to the Political Officer's disappointment they wandered for miles without adding anything to the bag. He had calculated on getting another couple of sambhur stags to present to the Deb Zimpun as food for his hungry followers. The route that they were now taking led circuitously back towards the peelkhana, which they wished to reach before sundown. They had got within a mile of it and were close to the foot of the hills when Badshah stopped suddenly and smelt the ground. Colonel Dermot leaned over the huge head and stared down intently at something invisible to his young companion. "What is it, sir?" asked Wargrave in a whisper. "Bison. Badshah's pointing for us. We can't shoot them here, for we're in Government jungle where the killing of elephants, bison and rhino is forbidden unless they attack you. But the track leads north towards the mountains and at their foot the Government Forest ends. That's only half a mile away and we can bag them there. Load your rifle with solid-nosed bullets. This is the pug (footprint) of a bull, I think." The two natives had seen the tracks by this and were wildly excited. Badshah without urging moved swiftly through the trees and soon brought his riders to the hills and into sight of the sky once more. The mountains stood out clear and distinct in the slanting rays of the setting sun. Suddenly a loud though distant, almost musical bellow sounded, seeming to come from a bamboo jungle about a mile away. "That's a cow-bison calling," said Dermot in a low voice. "There's a herd somewhere about; but the 'pugs' we're following up are those of a solitary bull. We're in free forest now; so with luck you may get your first bison. It's very steep here; we'll dismount, leave the elephants and go on foot." The subaltern was wildly excited, and his heart thumped at a rate that was not caused by the steep slope up which he followed Dermot. The Colonel tracked the bull unhesitatingly, although to Wargrave there was no mark to be seen on the ground. They were creeping cautiously through bamboo cover on a hill when Dermot, who was leading, suddenly threw himself on his face, lay still for a minute or two, then, motioning to his companion to halt, crawled forward like a snake. A few paces on he stopped and beckoned to Wargrave, and, when the latter reached him, pointed down into the gully below. They were almost on the edge of a descent precipitous enough to be called a cliff. Immediately underneath by a small stream was a massive black bull-bison, eighteen hands—six feet—high, with short, square, head, broad ears and horizontal rounded horns. The only touches of colour were on the forehead and the legs below the knees, which were whitish. The animal, with head thrown back, was staring vacantly with its large, slatey-blue eyes. Wargrave trembled with excitement and his heart beat so violently that the rifle shook as he brought it to his shoulder and gently pushed the muzzle through the stiff, dry grass at the edge of the cliff. But for the one necessary instant he became rigidly steady and without a tremor pressed the trigger. Then the rifle barrels danced again before his eyes, when he saw the great bull collapse on the ground, its fore-legs twitching violently, the hind ones motionless. "Good shot. You've broken his spine," exclaimed Dermot, springing to his feet and sliding, scrambling, jumping down the steep descent. The excited subaltern outstripped him; but before he reached the bull it lay motionless, dead. "You're a lucky young man, Wargrave. A splendid bison on your first day in the jungle. Those horns are six feet from tip to tip I bet," and the Political Officer held out his hand. Frank shook it heartily as he said gratefully: "I've only you to thank for it, sir. It was ripping of you to let me have first shot; and you gave me such a sitter that I couldn't miss. Thank you awfully, Colonel." Dermot gave a piercing whistle and stood waiting, while the overjoyed subaltern walked round and round the dead bison, marvelling at its size and exclaiming at his own good fortune. When in a few minutes Badshah appeared, followed by the panting men, Colonel Dermot sent the mahout on his elephant to the stable to fetch other men to cut up and bring in the bison. Then he and Wargrave on Badshah made for the road to Ranga Duar. It was dark long before they reached the little station. The Colonel brought his companion in for a drink after the three thousand feet climb, most of which they had done on foot. Mrs. Dermot met them in the hall; and, after she had heard the result of the day's sport, warmly congratulated Wargrave on his good luck. Loud whispers and a scuffle over their heads attracted the attention of all three elders, and on the broad wooden staircase they saw two small figures, one in pyjamas, the other in a pretty, trailing nightdress daintily tied with blue bows, looking imploringly down at their mother. She smiled and nodded. There was a whirlwind rush down the stairs, and the mites were caught up in their father's arms. Then Frank came in for his share of caresses from them before they were sternly ordered back to bed again. And as he passed out into the darkness he carried away with him an enchanting picture of the charming babes climbing the stairs hand in hand and turning to blow kisses to the tall man who stood below with a strong arm around his pretty wife, gazing fondly up at his children. And the picture stayed with him when, after dinner at which he was congratulated by his brother officers, he went to his room and found a letter overlooked in his rush to dress for Mess. It was from Violet, the first that had come from her since his arrival in Ranga Duar. It breathed passion and longing, discontent and despair, in every line. As he laid his face on his arm to shut out the light where he sat at the table he felt that he was nearer to loving the absent woman than he had ever been. For the vision of the Dermots' married happiness, of the deep affection linking husband and wife, of the children climbing the stair and smiling back at their parents, came vividly to him. And it haunted him in his sleep when in dreams tiny arms were clasped around his neck and baby lips touched his lovingly. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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