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Updated: May 14, 2025
Chakkra, the mahout, was singing the praises of Gunpat Rao, his master, as they rolled forward; flapping an ear to keep time and waving his ankas the steel hook of which was never used. "Kin to Neela Deo, is Gunpat Rao; liege-son to Neela Deo, the King!" he repeated. It appeared that he was reminding Gunpat Rao, rather than informing the American, of this honour.
The other's blade had whirled into the water. They had heard the welt as Chakkra's ankas came down. The strange mahout looked drunken and spineless for a second; then there was a red gush under his white cloth as he pitched into the stream. The Great Dane had just caught up. He was in the river below them not doubting his part had come. "Nels, steady! Let him go!" Skag called.
"I am here." The two great beasts were moiled together against the stream. . . . The man and woman, whose eyes still held, might have missed the flash of steel that Chakkra parried with his ankas. In fact, it was the sound of a quick gasp of Margaret Annesley that made them turn, just as Chakkra shouted: "By necessity, Sahib! . . . It is accomplished!"
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