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Updated: June 14, 2025
She understood but two words "Allaha" and "slave." Having decided upon the fate of Kathlyn, the natives set about recapturing the wild elephant. It took the best part of the morning. When this was accomplished the journey to Allaha was begun. But for the days of peace and quiet of the wilderness and the consequent hardness of her flesh, Kathlyn would have suffered greatly.
Let them send her back to Allaha; she was beaten; she was without the will to resist further. All she wanted was food and water and sleep, sleep. After that they might do what they pleased with her. For the first time since the extraordinary flight from Allaha Kathlyn recollected the "elephant talk" which Ahmed had taught her.
Lal Singh knows, I believe." "What's your idea?" "Sahib, when I put you all safe over the frontier I am coming back to Allaha to find out." And that was all Ahmed would say regarding the subject. "I'll wager he knows," whispered Bruce. "But who can it be? Another poor devil of a white man? Yet how could a white man influence the actions of the council?" The colonel spoke irritably.
"But, Sahib!" began Ahmed, not comprehending. "And, having him in your hands, you let him go!" Ahmed stood dumfounded. His jaw sagged, his rifle slipped from his hands and fell with a clank at his feet. "You are right, Sahib. I am an unthinking fool. May Allah forgive me!" "We could have held him as hostage, and tomorrow morning we all could have left Allaha free, unhindered!
Shall it fly to Benares, this news that Allaha permits itself to be ruled and bullied by a common murderer; a man without family, a liar and a cheat? Durga Ram, who slew the king; you turned upon the hand that had fed and clothed you and raised you to power. . . . Wait! Let this woman speak!"
No one was allowed on the island till my father died." "Did he tell you what it was he helped bury yonder?" "No, holy one. He was an honorable man. Whatever the secret was, it passed with him. We were not curious." "It was the private treasure of the king of Allaha, and the man was the king himself." The fisherman salaamed.
He had that right; the law of the childless king has always read so in Allaha. The white queen is Hare Sahib's daughter." Bruce leaned against a tent pole. "Am I dreaming or are you?" he gasped. "It is what they tell me, Sahib. I know it not as a fact." "The king dead, Hare dead, and his daughter on the throne! How did she get here? And what the devil is a chap to do?"
For these trinkets Kathlyn had gone through tortures as frightful almost as those in the days of the Inquisition. Upon one thing he and Ahmed had agreed, despite Ramabai's wild protest; they would leave the treasure with Bala Khan and follow his army to the walls of Allaha. If harm befell any of their loved ones not one stone should remain upon another.
Somehow he had rather expected something like this. The reason for Umballa's half-hearted pursuit stood forth clearly. "Sahib, it is fate," he said. "We must return at once to Allaha. Truly, the curse of that old guru sticks like the blood leeches of the Bengal swamps. But as you have faith in your guru, I have faith in mine. Not a hair of our heads shall be harmed."
The word was not spoken loudly, but sibilantly, with something resembling a hiss. "No!" "And shall a king who has no mind, no will, no strength, resume his authority? Perhaps to bring more white people into Allaha, perhaps to give Allaha eventually to the British Raj?" Again the negative. "But the method?" Umballa smiled. "What brings the worshiper here with candles and flowers and incense?
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