The Kipling Reader: Selections from the Books of Rudyard Kipling — John Shaqi
The Kipling Reader: Selections from the Books of Rudyard KiplingKipling, Rudyard
General
The Kipling Reader: Selections from the Books of Rudyard Kipling
Kipling, Rudyard
Animals -- Fiction; English poetry; India -- Social life and customs -- Literary collections; Readers; Short stories, English
'She's a darling. She has done more work under me--'
'Under _you!_ The day after she came she was in charge and you were
her subordinate, and you've stayed there ever since. She manages you
almost as well as you manage me.'
'She doesn't, and that's why I love her. She's as direct as a man-as
her brother.'
'Her brother's weaker than she is. He's always coming to me for
orders; but he's honest, and a glutton for work. I confess I'm
rather fond of William, and if I had a daughter--'
The talk ended there. Far away in the Derajat was a child's grave
more than twenty years old, and neither Jim nor his wife spoke of it
any more.
'All the same, you're responsible,' Jim added, after a moment's
silence.
'Bless 'em,' said Mrs. Jim, sleepily.
Before the stars paled, Scott, who slept in an empty cart, waked and
went about his work in silence; it seemed at that hour unkind to
rouse Faiz Ullah and the interpreter. His head being close to the
ground, he did not hear William till she stood over him in the dingy
old riding-habit, her eyes still heavy with sleep, a cup of tea and a
piece of toast in her hands. There was a baby on the ground,
squirming on a piece of blanket, and a six-year-old child peered over
Scott's shoulder.
'Hai, you little rip,' said Scott, 'how the deuce do you expect to
get your rations if you aren't quiet?'
A cool white hand steadied the brat, who forthwith choked as the milk
gurgled into his mouth.
'Mornin',' said the milker. 'You've no notion how these little
fellows can wriggle.'
'Oh, yes, I have.' She whispered, because the world was asleep. 'Only
I feed them with a spoon or a rag. Yours are fatter than mine....
And you've been doing this day after day, twice a day?' The voice was
almost lost.
'Yes; it was absurd. Now you try,' he said, giving place to the girl.
'Look out! A goat's not a cow.'
The goat protested against the amateur, and there was a scuffle, in
which Scott snatched up the baby. Then it was all to do over again,
and William laughed softly and merrily. She managed, however, to feed
two babies, and a third.
'Don't the little beggars take it well!' said Scott. 'I trained 'em.'
They were very busy and interested, when, lo! it was broad daylight,
and before they knew, the camp was awake, and they kneeled among the
goats, surprised by the day, both flushed to the temples. Yet all the
round world rolling up out of the darkness might have heard and seen
all that had passed between them.
'Oh,' said William, unsteadily, snatching up the tea and toast, 'I
had this made for you. It's stone-cold now. I thought you mightn't
have anything ready so early. Better not drink it. It's--it's
stone-cold.'
'That's awfully kind of you. It's just right. It's awfully good of
you, really. I'll leave my kids and goats with you and Mrs. Jim; and,
of course, any one in camp can show you about the milking.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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