"That? That is the long-long, wide-wide cloth that covers all her body.
It is made of so-thick silk" (she showed him six fingers), "that many times as thick as we know how to make."
"What is the name of the boy who led us here?" he asked next.
"We call him _Dhanah_ and many other names; but he is not a small boy, he is a man--very wise and sad."
At that moment they heard a voice like golden "cellos and golden clarions and golden viols--calling "Koob Soon-n-der, Koob Soon-n-der!" and the boy came past, running hard.
"Soon!" he shouted.
But Skag was at his heels and Cadman followed close, the short firing-piece in his hands.
The paths were narrow, the bamboo dense; the boy leaped into a curve and was lost. They raced after him, till the path broadened at the top of an elevation. Pausing an instant to listen, they saw--directly in front of them a little way distant--a tall post; a dark post, seven or eight feet above the bamboo tops, stiff and straight.
It held their eyes by its strange sheen. It began to lean stiffly toward one side--as if falling. It straightened and leaned the other way. Then undulation crept into it, till the top-end followed the outline of a double loop--like a figure-of-eight.
The snake had chained them this long. Skag recovered with an inward revulsion that rent him. He plunged down the path, his faculties surging--thought, feeling, realisation, volition--tearing him.
He met Dhanah carrying an utterly limp girl in his arms--the boy"s face gone grey.
As Skag fled on past Dhanah, the whole story of Dhoop Ki Dhil was eating in his brain like fire. She was somewhere in there ahead of him--somewhere near that monster snake.
The weaving of the serpent"s head, looping in long reaches above the bamboo tops--looking over them, looking down into them, looking for its prey--had frozen him to the marrow of his bones.
Dhoop Ki Dhil had come out into this blind maze to find and save the heat-blighted child from--that death. He knew what that death was like--he had seen a big snake kill a goat once, in the circus, for food.
. . . The frost in his bones bit deeper, because this was Dhoop Ki Dhil--the wonder-woman--who was in there, somewhere close to that snake.
He heard the Bombay Doctor"s tones again, as he ran; and the words of the brown-robed mystic went like flame and acid through his blood.
. . . Why couldn"t he hear Cadman? Cadman had the gun. But if he himself could only reach her before the snake--if he could only-- And a soft blur of sun-melted red loomed ahead of him.
Dhoop Ki Dhil did not walk, she did not run; but her glide was almost as swift as Dhanah"s flight.
When Skag met her face to face, he shivered with a shock of realisation--her ineffable beauty glowed like coals in a trance of some unearthly devotion. Her human mind was not there--an incomparable calm reigned in its stead.
"Come!" he urged strangely.
She moved with him, tilting her beautiful head to indicate something behind.
He looked--the snake was coming through the long narrow path, coming on; huge undulations, touching the ground but coming through the air, without any look of haste. The path was plenty wide for it, there was plenty time for it--it was overtaking them as if they stood still.
Then, for one eternal moment, Skag knew fear. It was cold--long--metallic. It was invincible--without pity. He heard human voices and the sound of running water--in a dream. Near by, he heard a low sweet laugh. The eyes of fathomless splendour beside him were not looking into his, but they were full of that love which transcends fear.
And the birthright of Sanford Hantee rose up in him.
"That"s right, come on!" he cried to her.
She looked up; and he followed her glance--one great undulation swayed above them--surging in oozy motion--curving down; just higher than their faces--a broad flat head--thin lateral lips--stark lidless eyes.
Skag ran with his arm about Dhoop Ki Dhil"s shoulders. He ran as fast as he could--and still look up. He dared not loosen his eyes from those eyes of evil--he must hold them with what strength he had.
They were utterly patient--those eyes of unveiled malice; as if there had never been strength in the universe but that of sin--as if sin looked down for the first time on something different.
Skag was perfectly definite in his intention; he meant to hold the snake if he could. Some of his training had been in the use of his eyes to control animals under stress.
So he ran with his arm about Dhoop Ki Dhil"s shoulders, the flame of his volitional power burning straight up into those pitiless, lidless eyes--till he came into a sentiency that had no cognisance of time.
. . . The raw curse of wickedness and the bitter length of hate, beat down upon him--out of the great snake"s naked eyes. The deadly stench of old corruption, poured down upon him--in the great snake"s breath.
It challenged the manhood and womanhood of his humankind, with all the crimes of violence they had ever done. Skag met it wistfully at first, with knowledges of loving-kindness; then a rising force that almost choked him, of confidence in ultimate good.
. . . Cadman had found the right path at last. What he saw blotted everything else out. Calling his reserves of control, he sighted with the utmost care. His big-game bullet shattered the serpent"s head. It launched backward and Skag heard a heavy stroke on the ground, almost before he realised that the lidless eyes of ancient evil had disappeared from so near his face.
A mighty shout went up from the people, as the monster coils began to thresh living bamboo into pulp. No one saw the hands of the two Americans grip.
Then the majesties of High Himalaya and the distances of star-lit night, poured forth from Dhoop Ki Dhil"s lifted lips.
Cadman and Skag followed her among the people going back to the village.
Once she whirled with an inimitable movement, flinging her fingers toward Skag, in a gesture that seemed to focus the eyes of the whole world upon him. (And in that instant, the American men could not have spoken a word--for the richness of her in their hearts.)
The light of intelligence flooded her face; her mind had returned to her, unmarred--a radiant scintillance.
"She is naming you "Rana Jai" for the generations to come," Cadman interpreted. "She says no mortal man ever held the king of all serpents from his stroke--ever delayed him from his chosen prey--this thing they have seen you do. It is your tradition for the future.
"She says I am your guardian, sent by the G.o.ds, to destroy the serpent--for your sake--so saving the people." Cadman finished huskily.
"But I didn"t reach him, Cadman," Skag protested. "I didn"t touch him--inside!"
As they all came into the village enclosure, Dhoop Ki Dhil slipped into a house near by, saying that Dhanah thought the child slept too deeply--she would care for her.
The people were beside themselves with joy. But presently Dhoop Ki Dhil came out, looking straight up. Her hands were palm to palm, reaching slowly upward from her breast to their full stretch; there she gently opened them apart. A perfect hush fell on all.
"The child is gone," Cadman said, in an undertone.
Then the people began a low chant. It was not mourning. It was as if a great mult.i.tude sang a great lullaby together.
"Boy, boy! This is a hard knock at our civilisation!"
Cadman was not aware that he had spoken. Skag shook his head.
"G.o.d! how I love it!" burst from him; and he had no shame of that love.
Little Koob Soonder"s body--in heavy silks of gleaming blue--was laid on a bamboo pyre. Dhoop Ki Dhil tenderly sprinkled flower-petals and incense-oils over all, and lighted the four corners for the motherless one, herself. Cadman and Skag watched the clean flames, till only silver ashes were on the ground. And all the while the people sang their great soft lullaby, without tears or any sign of mourning.
Hours later, the voice of Dhoop Ki Dhil rose on the night--far away. It seemed to compa.s.s the planet with its golden power and to descend from the empyrean of sound; further and further--transcending the voices of the wild--the very heart of love, the very soul of light. But they saw no more of her; and the people next morning made no reply to Cadman"s natural enquiry; no one would tell what had happened to Dhoop Ki Dhil.
All the way to the edge of the great Gra.s.s Jungle, where they had come in, a mult.i.tude went before and after--establishing the tradition of their deliverance. Finally Cadman asked the people why they spoke no word of Dhoop Ki Dhil, excepting as to things finished. The people bowed their heads and one answered for them all:
"It is finished. When we of the Gra.s.s Jungle mourn, we do not use words."