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Updated: June 2, 2025
Only in the legs. 'And why at all, since it is the custom to pay revenue to the King? Why at all? 'By the God of my father I cannot tell, said Namgay Doola. 'And who was thy father? 'The same that had this gun. He showed me his weapon a Tower musket bearing date 1832 and the stamp of the Honourable East India Company. 'And thy father's name? said I. 'Timlay Doola, said he.
A raw cow's tail lay on the floor, and by its side two pieces of black velvet my black velvet rudely hacked into the semblance of masks. 'And what is this shame, Namgay Doola? said I. He grinned more winningly than ever. 'There is no shame, said he. 'I did but cut off the tail of that man's cow. He betrayed me. I was minded to shoot him, Sahib. But not to death. Indeed not to death.
I made an attempt that very evening, but for the life of me I could not keep my countenance. Namgay Doola grinned persuasively, and began to tell me about a big brown bear in a poppy-field by the river. Would I care to shoot it? I spoke austerely on the sin of conspiracy, and the certainty of punishment. Namgay Doola's face clouded for a moment.
I pulled out a rupee, held the coin between finger and thumb, and looked only looked at the gun against the wall. A grin of brilliant and perfect comprehension overspread the face of the child. Never for an instant stopping the song he held out his hand for the money, and then slid the gun to my hand. I might have shot Namgay Doola as he chanted. But I was satisfied.
Then Namgay Doola, new christened Patsay Doola, son of Timlay Doola, which is Tim Doolan gone very wrong indeed, clasped the King's feet, cuffed the standing Army, and hurried in an agony of contrition from temple to temple, making offerings for the sin of cattle maiming. And the King was so pleased with my perspicacity that he offered to sell me a village for twenty pounds sterling.
Namgay Doola had scrambled out on the jam and was clawing out the butt of a log with a rude sort of boat-hook. It slid forward slowly as an alligator moves, three or four others followed it, and the green water spouted through the gaps they had made.
The King and I and the Populace approached the hut cautiously. There was no hope of capturing the man without loss of life, for from a hole in the wall projected the muzzle of an extremely well-cared-for gun the only gun in the State that could shoot. Namgay Doola had narrowly missed a villager just before we came up. The Standing Army stood.
'Dir hane mard-i-yemen dir To weeree ala gee. sang Namgay Doola again and again, and I racked my brain for that lost tune. It was not till after dinner that I discovered some one had cut a square foot of velvet from the centre of my best camera-cloth. This made me so angry that I wandered down the valley in the hope of meeting the big brown bear.
The river tossed everything before it. I saw the red head go down with the last remnants of the jam and disappear between the great grinding tree- trunks. It rose close to the bank and blowing like a grampus. Namgay Doola wrung the water out of his eyes and made obeisance to the King. I had time to observe him closely.
I pulled out a rupee, held the coin between finger and thumb and looked only looked at the gun against the wall. A grin of brilliant and perfect comprehension overspread the face of the child. Never for an instant stopping the song, he held out his hand for the money, and then slid the gun to my hand. I might have shot Namgay Doola as he chanted. But I was satisfied.
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