The Kipling Reader: Selections from the Books of Rudyard KiplingKipling, Rudyard
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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
'Nay, a hut is a hut, and it holds the life of a man. But once, I
sent my army against him when his excuses became wearisome: of their
heads he brake three across the top with a stick. The other two men
ran away. Also the guns would not shoot.'
I had seen the equipment of the infantry. One-third of it was an old
muzzle-loading fowling-piece, with a ragged rust-hole where the
nipples should have been, one-third a wire-bound match-lock with a
worm-eaten stock, and one-third a four-bore flint duck-gun without a
flint.
'But it is to be remembered,' said the King, reaching out for the
bottle, 'that he is a very expert log-snatcher and a man of a merry
face. What shall I do to him, Sahib?'
This was interesting. The timid hill-folk would as soon have refused
taxes to their King as revenues to their Gods.
'If it be the King's permission,' I said, 'I will not strike my tents
till the third day and I will see this man. The mercy of the King is
God-like, and rebellion is like unto the sin of witchcraft. Moreover,
both the bottles and another be empty.'
'You have my leave to go,' said the King.
Next morning a crier went through the State proclaiming that there
was a log-jam on the river and that it behoved all loyal subjects to
remove it. The people poured down from their villages to the moist,
warm valley of poppy-fields; and the King and I went with them.
Hundreds of dressed deodar-logs had caught on a snag of rock, and the
river was bringing down more logs every minute to complete the
blockade. The water snarled and wrenched and worried at the timber,
and the population of the State began prodding the nearest logs with
a pole in the hope of starting a general movement. Then there went up
a shout of 'Namgay Doola! Namgay Doola!' and a large red-haired
villager hurried up, stripping off his clothes as he ran.
'That is he. That is the rebel,' said the King. 'Now will the dam be
cleared.'
'But why has he red hair?' I asked, since red hair among hill-folks
is as common as blue or green.
'He is an outlander,' said the King. 'Well done! Oh, well done!'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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