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He was no longer a holy man, but Sir Purun Dass, K.C.I.E., Prime Minister of no small State, a man accustomed to command, going out to save life. Down the steep, plashy path they poured all together, the Bhagat and his brothers, down and down till the deer's feet clicked and stumbled on the wall of a threshing-floor, and he snorted because he smelt Man.
At last, the musk-deer, the shyest and almost the smallest of the deerlets, came, too, her big rabbity ears erect; even brindled, silent mushick-nabha must needs find out what the light in the shrine meant, and drop out her moose-like nose into Purun Bhagat's lap, coming and going with the shadows of the fire. Purun Bhagat called them all "my brothers," and his low call of "Bhai!
Through three good months the valley was wrapped in cloud and soaking mist steady, unrelenting downfall, breaking off into thunder-shower after thunder-shower. Kali's Shrine stood above the clouds, for the most part, and there was a whole month in which the Bhagat never caught a glimpse of his village.
Therefore, little knowing from whom she asked the boon, she fell on the ground before Puran Bhagat, begging him to cure her; and, lo! almost before she asked, it was done, and she saw plainly.
Up and up the opposite mountain they climbed, calling to each other by name the roll-call of the village and at their heels toiled the big barasingh, weighted by the failing strength of Purun Bhagat. At last the deer stopped in the shadow of a deep pinewood, five hundred feet up the hillside. His instinct, that had warned him of the coming slide, told him he would he safe here.
Hai!" said the Bhagat, snapping his fingers, "Is THIS payment for a night's lodging?" But the deer pushed him toward the door, and as he did so Purun Bhagat heard the sound of something opening with a sigh, and saw two slabs of the floor draw away from each other, while the sticky earth below smacked its lips. "Now I see," said Purun Bhagat.
Let the begging-bowl be placed outside the shrine, in the hollow made by those two twisted roots, and daily should the Bhagat be fed; for the village felt honoured that such a man he looked timidly into the Bhagat's face should tarry among them. That day saw the end of Purun Bhagat's wanderings. He had come to the place appointed for him the silence and the space.
Then deceitful Queen Lona, who all these years had been longing vainly for a son, when she saw what mighty power the unknown faqir possessed, fell on the ground also, and begged for an heir to gladden the heart of Raja Salbahan. Then Puran Bhagat spoke, and his voice was stern, 'Raja Salbahan already has a son. Where is he? What have you done with him?
Looking across the valley, the eye was deceived by the size of things, and could not at first realise that what seemed to be low scrub, on the opposite mountain-flank, was in truth a forest of hundred-foot pines. Purun Bhagat saw an eagle swoop across the gigantic hollow, but the great bird dwindled to a dot ere it was half-way over.
A few bands of scattered clouds strung up and down the valley, catching on a shoulder of the hills, or rising up and dying out when they were level with the head of the pass. And "Here shall I find peace," said Purun Bhagat.
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