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Three weeks ago John Chinn would have said he did not remember a word of the Bhil tongue, but at the mess door he found his lips moving in sentences that he did not understand bits of old nursery rhymes, and tail-ends of such orders as his father used to give the men. The Colonel watched him come up the steps, and laughed. "Look!" he said to the Major. "No need to ask the young un's breed.
"But, being pigs, ye did not believe; and so came I here to save you, first from Smallpox, next from a great folly of fear, and lastly, it may be, from the rope and the jail. It is no gain to me; it is no pleasure to me: but for the sake of that one who is yonder, who made the Bhil a man" he pointed down the hill "I, who am of his blood, the son of his son, come to turn your people.
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.
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