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Updated: May 28, 2025
They ain't got it, but when they have, it's the far-seeingest sense on earth, and there ain't a star in the heavens a man can't climb to when a woman of that kind gives him a lift!" Again a shuffle of feet, but Mr. Chinn's gavel came down heavily. He turned in his chair and looked first at Mr. Milligan and then at the clock.
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.
When he read Chinn's note he laughed, which they deemed a lucky omen, till he called up policemen, who tethered the ponies and the bullocks by the piled house-gear, and laid stern hands upon three of that smiling band of the thieves of Mahadeo. The chaplain himself addressed them magisterially with a riding-whip. That was painful, but Jan Chinn had prophesied it.
Nothing would have pleased the old man better than a rough-and-tumble campaign against the Satpuras, whom he, as an "unmixed" Bhil, despised; but he had a duty to all his nation as Jan Chinn's interpreter; and he devoutly believed that forty plagues would fall on his village if he tampered with that obligation. Besides, Jan Chinn knew all things, and he rode the Clouded Tiger.
Suddenly the sides of the ravine were crowned with the heads of Bukta's people a force that could have blown the ribs out of the beast had Chinn's shot failed; but their guns were hidden, and they appeared as interested beaters, some five or six waiting the word to skin. Bukta watched the life fade from the wild eyes, lifted one hand, and turned on his heel.
All the Bhils knew that Jan Chinn reincarnated had honoured Bukta's village with his presence after slaying his first in this life tiger; that he had eaten and drunk with the people, as he was used; and Bukta must have drugged Chinn's liquor very deeply upon his back and right shoulder all men had seen the same angry red Flying Cloud that the high Gods had set on the flesh of Jan Chinn the First when first he came to the Bhil.
'Send over one of your niggers with a basket an' let him get one, Bill, says Jedge Chinn, who's been tellin' Hatfield about the pigs. Neyt day, Bill mounts his nigger boy, Dick, on a mule, with a basket on his arm, an' Dick lines out for Jedge Chinn's for to fetch away that little hawg. Dick puts him in the basket, climbs onto his mule, an' goes teeterin' out for home.
They submitted, but would not give up the written protection, fearing the jail. On their way back they met Mr. D. Fawne, who had heard about the robberies, and was not pleased. "Certainly," said the eldest of the gang, when the second interview was at an end, "certainly Jan Chinn's protection has saved us our liberty, but it is as though there were many beatings in one small piece of paper.
"There is not sufficient ample supply of vaccination for all this population," said the man. "They destroyed the offeecial calf." "They won't know the difference. Scrape 'em and give me a couple of lancets; I'll attend to the elders." The aged diplomat who had demanded protection was the first victim. He fell to Chinn's hand and dared not cry out.
Bukta, what is this last tale of children?" Bukta had been a silent leader in Chinn's presence since the night of his desertion, and was grateful for a chance-flung question. "They know, Sahib," he whispered. "It is the Clouded Tiger. That that comes from the place where thou didst once sleep. It is thy horse as it has been these three generations." "My horse! That was a dream of the Bhils."
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