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Updated: June 5, 2025
All the masterless Bhuttia rogues on both sides of the border were sharpening their dahs and looking down greedily on the fertile plains below. All India itself seemed trembling on the verge of revolt. The Punjaub was honeycombed with sedition.
"A fire broke out in the jungle at the south edge of the garden probably started purposely to draw everyone away from the bungalows and factory. The manager, Daleham, and I went there to superintend the men fighting the flames. In our absence a party of ten or twenty Bhuttia swordsmen rushed the house. Miss Daleham had just returned from her ride. Poor girl!" He broke down and began to cry.
His hair was cropped close, he was wearing Bhuttia clothes, but it was Narain Dass, the University graduate who was working as a coolie for a few annas a day." "And he had eight hundred and fifty rupees on him," added the young engineer. "Yes; and if all the Bhuttias had as much as the one shot that meant over two thousand." "Where did they get it?" "Who is behind all this?"
Petrified with fright, the Bhuttia and his companions watched the long line go by, and for fully an hour after the last elephant had disappeared they did not venture to descend from the tree. When at last they did so there was no longer any thought of work.
"Oh, the latter, I suppose," replied Dermot. But there was a doubtful tone about his words. In fact, he was at a loss to understand the affair. It was probably not what he had thought it at first an attempt on the part of enterprising Bhuttia raiders to carry off an Englishwoman for ransom.
His knowledge of the language spoken by the Bhuttia settlers within the border, mostly refugees from Bhutan who had fled thither to escape the tyranny and exactions of the officials, enabled him to question the hill-dwellers as to the presence and purpose of any strangers passing through.
The close watch that his myrmidons kept on the stretch of frontier between his territories and India prevented Dermot from learning what went on behind the screen; for the spies of the Political Officer's Secret Service could not penetrate it and bring back news. Wargrave was present when the last sturdy-limbed Bhuttia emissary reported his failure to cross the line.
"Yes; we're plagued by a brute of a panther that prowls about the station at night, jumps the wall of the Fort and carries off the sepoys' dogs, and has actually entered rooms here in the Mess. He has killed several Bhuttia children on the hills around here. Nobody can ever get a shot at him. He's too cunning. Will you have a drink, Colonel?" said Hunt.
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