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They thronged out the great Highway-of-all-India, meeting the caravan where the slow-moving elephants turned in from open jungle. Eagerly striving to see the Gul Moti's face, eagerly pointing at Neela Deo, yet it was a stranger silent multitude. Only many tears on many tears showed their feeling. The Gul Moti sat in Neela Deo's howdah, with the Chief Commissioner and Son-of-Power.
As soon as the horse had arrived at its table it stopped of its own accord and Moti immediately rolled off; but he jumped up at once, tied the beast up, and called for some breakfast. Presently the Afghans appeared, out of breath and furious, and claimed the horse.
None the less he worked well, and the planter wondered. Deesa had vagabonded along the roads till he met a marriage procession of his own caste and, drinking, dancing, and tippling, had drifted past all knowledge of the lapse of time. The morning of the eleventh day dawned, and there returned no Deesa. Moti Guj was loosed from his ropes for the daily stint.
Yet again, the Arab's suggestion offered the only practicable course, and Moti had to bear a double load while they slowly climbed the hill down which they dashed so precipitately before they came upon the disabled vehicle. This time, Dick managed to seat his fair partner more comfortably.
"Give my salaam to the long Councillor Sahib, and ask him to help me take Moti back!" gasped Tods.
A week or two after this incident the king sent for Moti, who on arrival found his master in despair. A neighbouring monarch, he explained, who had many more soldiers than he, had declared war against him, and he was at his wits' end, for he had neither money to buy him off nor soldiers enough to fight him what was he to do? 'If that is all, don't you trouble, said Moti.
Then her four brothers drop a coin apiece; her sister-in-law, whispering "It is for food" does likewise; also her mother with the words "choli patal" or "Tis a robe and bodice for thee"; and so on until all the relatives have cast down their offerings, one promising a fair couch, another an umbrella, a third a pair of shoes, and little Moti, the dead woman's eldest child, "a pair of bangles for my mother," until in truth all the small luxuries that the dead woman may require in the life beyond have been granted.
Moti Guj put his hands in his pockets, chewed a branch for a toothpick, and strolled about the clearing, making jest of the other elephants, who had just set to work. Chihun reported the state of affairs to the planter, who came out with a dog-whip and cracked it furiously.
Moti was the little Maharajah, and that was his pet name. Moti was privileged to remind his father of things. A pearl. So Moti and the Maharajah went down to the audience hall together, and there they found Sonny Sahib asleep too, which was not wonderful, considering that the Maharajah had kept him waiting two hours and a quarter.
With passionate distress they saw the King wounded almost to death less than four months since carrying a heavy howdah and three men going in to fight with a bad elephant who was all but fresh. They cursed the wild elephant with every inward breath, seeing as little hope for Neela Deo as they had seen for Gunpat Rao. The Gul Moti watched appalled.
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