Part 27 (1/2)
The Banjara laughed, clapping a cupped palm over his mouth, giving vent to a note of derision. ”The little monkey has a desire in his belly, sahib,” he said, ceasing his popping mirth. ”The women of Kohima are famed for the arak they distill, so Mahadua, with the sahib to pay for it, would get in a state to see leopards even in the village.”
”I think we'd better get rid of this argument,” Finnerty remarked, adding: ”Come to the bungalow for your pay, Lumbani.”
Calling their dogs, the Banjara and his brother departed.
”Now we're up against a mental dead wall, captain. What shall we do?”
Finnerty asked.
”You'd like to go after Burra Moti, of course--”
”Yes; but I'd rather pot this black devil. I don't want any natives'
blood on my head.”
”But we haven't a trail to follow; I believe we'll find that leopard back in his cage.”
”Good heavens, man, he couldn't get through the solid wall!”
”But he did.”
Finnerty blinked his eyes in unison with his rapid thoughts. A suspicion lingered in his mind that the animal had really slipped from the cave without Swinton seeing him--perhaps through his attention having been taken up by Mahadua. Indeed it was the only reasonable explanation of his astounding disappearance. With boyish diffidence he asked: ”Did you and Mahadua do anything; that is, did he take up your attention with--well, he's a garrulous old cuss, especially on spirits.”
Swinton in candour related what had occurred, and when he told of the rupee-gun ceremony the major, with a start, exclaimed: ”Ah!”
”I know what you mean by that, major,” Swinton said, with a little laugh, ”but I never took my eyes off that hole in the wall.”
But Finnerty shook his head. ”Do you know what they call the leopard in every mess in India?--'The Artful Dodger.'” Then he added hastily: ”We'll settle your theory first, captain. On our way back to have some breakfast we'll look in at the zoo, and if there's a black leopard there with a wound it will be the one we're after; if there is one without a wound it will mean that we shot a jungle beast last night; if the cage is empty the brute either slipped your vigilance or is, as Mahadua says, a spirit.”
The word leopard being familiar to the servant, he knew what the sahibs were discussing, and contributed: ”Our eyes were always on the door, sahib, and if a spirit took the leopard through the walls he would lead him to Kohima, for it is said that all his kills were made through the aid of one he acquired there.”
”Come on!” Finnerty said. ”We're in a fit condition of mystification to almost accept the little man's thesis.”
A strange attendant was at the teakwood gate, but when the major explained that they simply wanted a look at the animals, being sahibs, he swung the gate for their entrance, closing it from the inside to stand near them. The heavily barred cage was empty, and there was no movement in the den behind to which a small door gave entrance.
”Where is the black leopard?” Finnerty asked quite casually.
A frown of reticence clouded the native's face as he answered: ”I don't know, sahib.”
With a covert movement, the major slipped into the man's fingers a rupee. The gateman coughed, adjusted his belt, and said: ”The Burra Sahib, Nawab Darna Singh, sent away the man who was on the gate; that is why I am now here.”
”Did the man sleep at his post?”
”It may be that he did, sahib, and that way the black leopard escaped; but he was beaten by the rajah--no doubt he deserved it--and Nawab Darna Singh thinks that in anger he may have freed the dangerous one, for a small door was left open.”
”And the leopard has not been seen to-day?”
”No, sahib; but it is said he was shot, by whom or where I have not heard.”
Then the two pa.s.sed through the gate as mystified as when they entered.