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Updated: May 10, 2025
You never saw such a skin in your life." The Colonel tugged his moustache thought-fully. "Now, how the deuce," said he, "am I to include that in my report?" Indeed, the official version of the Bhils' anti-vaccination stampede said nothing about Lieutenant John Chinn, his godship. But Bukta knew, and the corps knew, and every Bhil in the Satpura hills knew.
Chinn kept his own counsel, except as to the shooting of the tiger, and Bukta embroidered that tale with a shameless tongue. The skin was certainly one of the finest ever hung up in the mess, and the first of many.
"That was not the way I killed my first tiger," said Chinn. "I did not think that Bukta would run. I had no second gun." "It it is the Clouded Tiger," said Bukta, un-heeding the taunt. "He is dead."
"And so your people, Sahib. When I was a young man we were fewer, but not so weak. Now we are many, but poor stock. As may be remembered. How will you shoot him, Sahib? From a tree; from a shelter which my people shall build; by day or by night?" "On foot and in the daytime," said young Chinn. "That was your custom, as I have heard," said Bukta to himself "I will get news of him.
Bukta did not say that, ever since the official vaccinator had been dragged into the hills by indignant Bhils, runner after runner had skulked up to the lines, entreating, with forehead in the dust, that Jan Chinn should come and explain this unknown horror that hung over his people. The portent of the Clouded Tiger was now too clear.
"How the little devil stares! What is it, Bukta?" "The Mark!" was the whispered answer. "It is nothing. You know how it is with my people!" Chinn was annoyed. The dull-red birth-mark on his shoulder, something like a conventionalised Tartar cloud, had slipped his memory or he would not have bathed.
Bukta had continued to develop his peculiar theory among his intimates, and it was accepted as a matter of faith in the lines, since every word and gesture on young Chinn's part so confirmed it. The old man arranged early that his darling should wipe out the reproach of not having shot a tiger; but he was not content to take the first or any beast that happened to arrive.
I sent runners asking for Jan Chinn lest worse should come to us. It was this fear that he foretold by the sign of the Clouded Tiger. He says it is otherwise," said Bukta; and he repeated, with amplifications, all that young Chinn had told him at the conference of the wicker chair. "Think you," said the questioner, at last, "that the Government will lay hands on us?" "Not I," Bukta rejoined.
"That was not the way I killed my first tiger," said Chinn. "I did not think that Bukta would run. I had no second gun." "It it is the Clouded Tiger," said Bukta, un-heeding the taunt. "He is dead."
Or, again, if written order came from the Government that a Bhil was to repair to a walled city of the plains to give evidence in a law-court, would it be wise to disregard that order? On the other hand, if it were obeyed, would the rash voyager return alive? "But what have I to do with these things?" Chinn demanded of Bukta, impatiently. "I am a soldier. I do not know the law." "Hoo!
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