Part 16 (1/2)

Lord Victor, somewhat puzzled by Ananda's denial of owners.h.i.+p and then the admittance of it, concluded that the prince was still upset by the cropper he had come off the elephant.

But all down the hill, on his return, this curious incident kept recurring to him. He wasn't a man to follow problems to a conclusion, however, and it simply hung in his mind as a fogging event. Just as he was falling asleep, wondering why the captain had not returned, it suddenly dawned upon him with awakening force that perhaps the gold case belonged to the girl. Of course it did, he decided. The prince had treated the case as a stranger; his face had shown that he did not recognise it. And yet Gilfain had seen it in England, as he thought, in the prince's possession. He fell asleep, unequal to the task of wallowing through such a mora.s.s of mystery.

Chapter XI

After Finnerty and Swinton left Gilfain in the evening, the major said: ”If you don't mind, we'll stick to this elephant and ride on to the keddah, where I'll take the bell off Moti; I won't take a chance of having the sapphire stolen by leaving it there all night. I am worrying now over letting Prince Ananda have Moti--I forgot all about the stone, really.”

”Worked beautifully to-day, didn't it?” Swinton commented.

”Yes. I fancy it saved the girl's life, at least; for if I'd not had Moti I'd have lost out on the mix-up with Stripes. I'll get a metal clapper to-morrow, but I doubt its answering; it will clang, and the sapphire has a clinking note like ice in a gla.s.s. And, while an elephant hasn't very good eyesight, he's got an abnormally acute sense of hearing. Moti would twig the slightest variation in the tone of that bell that she's probably worn for a hundred years or more--maybe a thousand, for all I know. There's a belief among the natives that a large elephant has been wandering around northern India for a thousand years; it is called the '_Khaki Hethi_'--brown elephant.”

Swinton looked curiously at the major. ”Do you believe that?”

”Each year in this wonderland I believe more; that is, I accept more without looking for proofs. It is the easiest way. Yes,” he added, in a reflective way, ”I'll have trouble with Moti, I'm afraid; elephants are the most suspicious creatures on earth, and she is particularly distrustful.”

”Don't bother about the sapphire,” Swinton objected.

”Oh, yes, I will. I've got to take off the bell, anyway, to find some subst.i.tute. If I don't, somebody'll poison Moti if they can't get the sapphire any other way.”

At the keddah the two dismounted and walked over to where Moti was under her tamarind tree. Swinton became aware of the extraordinary affection the big creature had for Finnerty. She fondled his cheek with the fingers of her trunk, and put it over his shoulder, giving utterance to little guttural chuckles of satisfaction, as though she were saying: ”We fooled the tiger, didn't we?”

Finnerty called to a native to bring him some _ghie_ cakes--little white cookies of rice flour and honey that had been cooked in boiling _ghie_, b.u.t.ter made from buffalo's milk--and when they were brought he gave the delighted elephant one. She smacked her lips and winked at Finnerty--at least to Swinton her actions were thus.

In obedience to the mahout she knelt down; but as Finnerty unlaced the leather band that held the bell she c.o.c.ked her ears apprehensively and waved her big head back and forth in nervous rhythm. Patting her forehead, Finnerty gave Moti the bell, and she clanged it in expostulation. Then he took it away, giving her a _ghie_ cake. Several times he repeated this, retaining the bell longer each time, and always talking to her in his soft, rich voice.

Finally, telling the mahout to call him if Moti gave trouble, he said: ”We can walk to the bungalow from here; it isn't far, captain.”

After dinner, as they sat on the verandah, Finnerty's bearer appeared, and, prefaced by a prayerful salaam, said: ”Huzoor, my mother is sick, and your slave asks that he may stay with her to-night. The sahib's bed is all prepared, and in the morning I will bring the tea and toast.”

”All right,” the major said laconically; and as the bearer went on his mission of mercy he added: ”Glad he's gone. I've a queer feeling of distrust of that chap, though he's a good boy. He never took his eye off that bell till it was locked up in my box. The mahout told me at the keddah that Rajah Ananda was particularly pleased with Moti; had a look at the bell and petted her when they got to the palace.” Finnerty laughed, but Swinton cursed softly.

”That means,” he said, ”that we've got to look out.”

”Yes; can't use the sapphire on Moti again.”

Finnerty rose, stretched his bulk, travelled to both ends of the verandah, and looked about.

Swinton was struck by the extraordinary quiet of the big man's movements. He walked on the b.a.l.l.s of his feet--the athlete's tread--with the graceful strength of a tiger. Coming back, he turned with catlike quickness and slipped into the bungalow, returning presently, drawing his chair close to Swinton as he sat down.

”You remember my tussle with the Punjabi wrestler?”

Swinton laughed. ”Rather!”

”It wasn't a Punjabi--a European.”

The captain gasped his astonishment.

”One of Boelke's imported Huns.” Finnerty gave a dry chuckle. ”Ananda isn't the only man that can get information. I knew there was a Prussian wrestler here, and that he was keeping fit for a bout with somebody; I had a suspicion that somebody was myself. You see”--and the major crossed his long legs--”in spite of all our talk about moral force in governing, physical superiority is what always appeals to the governed--Ananda knows that deuced well. Now, hereabouts I have quite an influence over the natives, because, while I give them a little more than justice in any dispute, I can put their best man on his back.”