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Kudrat Sharif smiled with frank affection on the boy, as he drew his right hand away, to touch his forehead in the Indian salaam. The gesture showed both grace and dignity as Dickson Sahib had said. "I am exalted to carry back to my stockades the story of the manner of your work, Son-of-Power," he began. "My name is Sanford Hantee," Skag deprecated gently.
"Then the gods who preserved my fathers to old age, have not forgotten that I learned patience in my extreme youth," sighed the man. Seeing that the elephant was not quieting, Kudrat Sharif spoke now in pacifying tones to the mahout: "Come down among us who are your brothers; we have prepared all things for your refreshment."
Also, there is a luminous tradition that the most exalted creatures of their kind those who travelled far from the high lands of Persia long ago chose place for their future generations in the Vindha Hills; and not in High Himalaya." This man who had first rebuked sternly and afterward explained with extreme gentleness, was Kudrat Sharif, the mahout of Neela Deo mighty leader of their caravan.
Neela Deo staggered and swayed ever so slowly forward, with his head low and his trunk resting heavy and inert on Kudrat Sharif's shoulder; but he got in. After that no man saw him for sixteen weeks save the mahouts of his own stockades. But every morning the flower merchants sent huge mounds of flower garlands to comfort him.
The howdah was lacquered in raw gold its curtains were imperial blue. Kudrat Sharif was clothed in pure thin white like the son of a prince but he was very frail; and ninety-odd thousand people sent his name, with the name of Neela Deo, up into the Indian night for the Indian gods to hear.
"Be patient with me, most honourable," he went on, in strained tones. "I come to you serving a strange master. The record I tell now, is truly your right to know." "Have no fear; we serve with you!" Kudrat Sharif reassured him. "Some months after this elephant was trapped," he continued, "they had him picketed in the working grounds to learn the voices of men.
Skag turned toward Horace, who was drawing a fine looking native forward by the hand. The boy spoke with repressed excitement otherwise showing no sign of Nut Kut's strenuous handling: "Skag Sahib, I want you to know Kudrat Sharif, the malik of the Chief Commissioner's elephant stockades. It is not known, you understand meaning my father but the malik has always been very wonderful to me."
"But you will always be known to Indians of India as Son-of-Power!" Kudrat Sharif protested. "It is a lofty title, yet you have established it before many." Just then a great elephant came near, playfully reaching for Kudrat Sharif with his trunk. "And this is Neela Deo, the leader of the caravan!" laughed Horace.
"His first name is Nut Kut!" said Ram Yaksahn with decision. "But his last name is Pyar-awaz." All the mahouts laughed; translating the double name in their own minds -Mischief, the Voice-of-Love. "We have no violent men in these stockades," said Kudrat Sharif, speaking to them all. "And we do not find that Ram Yaksahn was lacking in courage. We will prove the nature of Nut Kut with kindness."
"It is my shame that there is no howdah on him to carry you; we came like flight, when Nut Kut's escape was known," Kudrat Sharif apologised. "But after some days, when Nut Kut's excitement sleeps, we shall be distinguished if Son-of-Power chooses to come to the stockades and consider him.
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