The Three Sapphires Part 13

The Banjara had come up the road unnoticed. He now stood at the steps, and, with his black ayes fixed on Lord Victor, said, in heavy gravity: "_Salaam, s.h.i.+kari sahib_."

"Will you pay the beggar for that dog, major? I'll send the money over,"

Lord Victor said, missing the sarcasm.

When, after much bargaining, the blood debt had been wiped out at twenty rupees, the Banjara, ringing each coin by a spin in the air with his thumb nail, broached the matter of his deferred revenge.

"What of the slaying of that debased killer of my cow, O sahib?" he asked. "I will tie up a young buffalo, so be it the sahib will pay for it, and, as the tiger has got in this way of amusing himself, he will come. But"--and he cast a scornful glance at Lord Victor--"do you make the kill, major sahib?"

"It is too late. We will take a dozen elephants to-morrow and make a wide beat, driving the tiger up to the guns."

But the native shook his head. "The sahib knows that if the elephants are not trained to the hunt they are no good, and tiger knows it. When he smells that it is a trap, he will break back, and some of the elephants will not stand. But if the sahib will pay me and my brothers we will take all our buffalo and drive tiger ahead of them. He will not break back through the buffalo, for I will take them first to smell of the blood of the cow he has slain."

"A good idea," Finnerty declared; "the buffalo make great beaters--Stripes won't face them. All right!" he told the Banjara. "I'll post the sahibs on elephants. Get your men and buffalo ready for two o'clock--it will take me till that time to get things ready."

"The tiger will be in the same gra.s.s, huzoor," the Banjara said; "but if the young sahib shoot a buffalo or another dog, that also he will be required to pay for. My brothers will be behind the buffalo, walking slowly, that they do not come too sudden upon the tiger, and they are men of pa.s.sion."

Then the herdsman went clanking down the road, feeling that he had done all that could be done in the way of insurance.

They sat for an hour planning a grand hunt for the next day. Prince Ananda must be invited; as they were shooting over his grounds, it was only proper courtesy. The prince would bring his own elephant, of course, but reliable hunting elephants were scarce. The one Lord Victor and Swinton had used that day had shown either a white feather or too excitable a temperament; he would only do to put on the side of the cane belt as a stop to keep the tiger from cutting out. Finnerty's elephant had proved fairly steady, but he needed another; he would give that one to Swinton and Lord Victor and in the morning get a goldsmith to beat out Moti's bell, putting a metal clapper in it. The maharajah had elephants, but none well trained for a drive, because the maharajah never shot anything.

Before leaving Swinton took the major into the bungalow and gave him the sapphire to use in the bell should it be necessary, insisting that it was as safe with Finnerty as it was with him. At any rate, he did not value it highly, not placing any faith in its miraculous power.

The moon had risen when the two drove back to their bungalow in the major's dogcart. As they swung to enter the gate, the horse recoiled with a snort of fear; the check was so sudden that Swinton, to avoid a headfirst dive, jumped, cannoning into a native, who, his face covered by his loin cloth, dashed from the compound. Instinctively Swinton grabbed the fleeing man; but the latter, with a dexterous loosening twist of his garment, left it in the captain's hands and sped away. On the ground lay a white envelope and a small notebook that had fallen from a fold of the cloth, and these Swinton put in his pocket, saying: "That man has been up to some deviltry." To Finnerty's syce he added: "Take the tom-tom back; we'll walk to the bungalow."

"I say, old chap," cried Lord Victor, "don't you know this is no end of a risky caper; that urban tiger dashed that fellow--what!"

"We'd be in a hat if we stuck to the tom-tom in that event; that flooey-headed horse would kill us if the tiger didn't."

At that instant the captain's foot caught something that projected from the crotons. A look disclosed a pair of legs. There was something familiar about these white-trousered limbs that terminated in canvas shoes, and their owner must be either very drunk or dead. Swinton grasped the projecting feet and pulled their owner to the drive, where he lay on his back, the moonlight glinting the glazed eyes. It was Perreira--and he was dead. His neck showed an abrasion as though a rope had scorched it; and when Swinton lifted the dead man's shoulders the head hung limp like the head of a rag doll.

"That old Thug trick!" Swinton declared. "Somebody caught him from behind with a towel across the throat, threw him to the ground, put a foot on his back, and with one twist broke his neck."

"Murdered!" Lord Victor gasped.

"Yes. That native I met at the gate did the trick." Raising his voice, the captain called: "_Chowkidar!_ Watchman!"

There was an answer from somewhere in the compound, and the evil-faced native they had seen the night before came hurrying to where they stood.

"If the half-caste sahib is dead he must have fallen from a horse and broke his neck," the watchman declared.

"Call the servants and carry him into the bungalow where the baboo is; then go at once down to the police and tell who killed this man,"

Swinton commanded.

At that instant Baboo Da.s.s, who, startled by the clamour, had waited in fear on the verandah, now ploughed through the bushes, saying: "Please, sar, I will be frighted if defunct body is brought within. This place is too much evil-spirited. If tiger is not devour I am head-shaved like a felon and burglared of jewel."

But Swinton turned away and proceeded with Lord Victor to their bungalow, leaving Baboo Da.s.s wrangling with the watchman.

Lord Victor was in a captious mood over the rapid succession of stirring episodes. "No end of a somnolent old India--what!" he said ironically, sitting on Swinton's bed. "I'm bally well dashed with all the floaty creeps. We've only been here twenty-four hours, and we've dined with the rajah, seen a topping wrestling bout, been at a temple riot, chevied a tiger out of our front yard, entertained a baboo flooey on Hindu G.o.ds, had a drive for a tiger----"

"Shot a Banjara dog," Swinton interrupted, because he wanted to go to bed.

"Rather! And made a devilish good shot. Then we were spoofed by Stripes, and found a murdered man on the doorstep. A tallish order, I call all that. Going some--what!"

Swinton yawned sleepily, and when Lord Victor had gone to his room he took from his pocket the notebook and letter he had picked up. The letter was addressed to himself and contained two rupees. The notebook contained curious, ambiguous entries. To a casual reader they would have meant nothing, but to Swinton they were a key to a great deal. With a small screw driver he took the shoulder plate from the b.u.t.t of a gun, and, wedging the book in the hollow with some paper, replaced the plate.

Undoubtedly the little black book had something to do with Perreira's death. He would have been closely watched since the watchman had listened on the verandah the night before, and it would be known he was coming to see the captain.

Chapter IX

Next morning Swinton again rode alone, Lord Victor declaring he would have enough exercise in the hunt that day.

As Shabaz came out of his loping canter and steadied to a leisurely gait up the palace hill, Rada, the groom, overtook his master.

"Put a hand on the stirrup," Swinton commanded, "for the hill is long and your legs are the legs of experience."

"As the sahib wishes; but I know little of her who rides the grey stallion," Rada replied, grasping the iron. Swinton chuckled at the nave admission that the servant took it for granted he was to talk, being thus favoured.

"It is the way of my people," Rada resumed, when his breath came easier, "that when we make speech with a sahib we watch his eyes for a sign, and if it is one of displeasure we then tell lies to avert his anger; but with the captain sahib this may not be done."

"Why, Rada?"

"Sahib knows the karait--the snake with an eye that is all red?"

"Deadly as a cobra."

"Yes, sahib; and our people say that if one looks for a long time into that red eye that never s.h.i.+fts nor blinks nor gives a sign, he will go mad."

"Delightful! And mine are like that, Rada?"

"No, sahib; only so far as that they give no sign. So if I make speech that is displeasing, the presence must command me to be still."

After a time Rada said: "The Missie Baba will not ride the grey stallion to-day?"

"Why not?"

"I know not, except that she has reported that the stallion is lame; but the groom says he is not lame."

Reaching the plateau, Swinton followed a road that swung around the Place of Roses. Over the brick wall floated the sweet perfume of myriad flowers, to give place presently to the tang of animal life as they came to the tiger garden. A jungle clamour vibrated the morning air; c.o.c.katoos and parrakeets called shrilly beyond the brick wall; a hornbill sent forth his raucous screech; pigeons of all colours, green, blue, grey, fluttered free in the air, waiting for the grain that would presently be scattered by the keepers. The unpleasant, sputtering laugh of a hyena, raucously grating, mingled with the full, rich-toned monologue of leopards that paced restlessly their cages, eager for their meal of blood-dripping meat.

Then the road crawled restfully into the cool of a n.o.ble sal forest. To the right it branched presently, and he caught the glint of white marble splitting the emerald green.

"The lady who rides the grey stallion lives yonder with the large sahib who is her uncle," Rada explained; and as they came to a path on the left a little beyond, he continued: "This leads to Jadoo Nala, wherein is a pool."

Captain Swinton turned Shabaz into the path, following it to the edge of the plateau and down its winding course to the pool.