The Banjara laughed, clapping a cupped palm over his mouth, giving vent to a note of derision. "The little monkey has a desire in his belly, sahib," he said, ceasing his popping mirth. "The women of Kohima are famed for the arak they distill, so Mahadua, with the sahib to pay for it, would get in a state to see leopards even in the village."
"I think we"d better get rid of this argument," Finnerty remarked, adding: "Come to the bungalow for your pay, Lumbani."
Calling their dogs, the Banjara and his brother departed.
"Now we"re up against a mental dead wall, captain. What shall we do?"
Finnerty asked.
"You"d like to go after Burra Moti, of course--"
"Yes; but I"d rather pot this black devil. I don"t want any natives"
blood on my head."
"But we haven"t a trail to follow; I believe we"ll find that leopard back in his cage."
"Good heavens, man, he couldn"t get through the solid wall!"
"But he did."
Finnerty blinked his eyes in unison with his rapid thoughts. A suspicion lingered in his mind that the animal had really slipped from the cave without Swinton seeing him--perhaps through his attention having been taken up by Mahadua. Indeed it was the only reasonable explanation of his astounding disappearance. With boyish diffidence he asked: "Did you and Mahadua do anything; that is, did he take up your attention with--well, he"s a garrulous old cuss, especially on spirits."
Swinton in candour related what had occurred, and when he told of the rupee-gun ceremony the major, with a start, exclaimed: "Ah!"
"I know what you mean by that, major," Swinton said, with a little laugh, "but I never took my eyes off that hole in the wall."
But Finnerty shook his head. "Do you know what they call the leopard in every mess in India?--"The Artful Dodger."" Then he added hastily: "We"ll settle your theory first, captain. On our way back to have some breakfast we"ll look in at the zoo, and if there"s a black leopard there with a wound it will be the one we"re after; if there is one without a wound it will mean that we shot a jungle beast last night; if the cage is empty the brute either slipped your vigilance or is, as Mahadua says, a spirit."
The word leopard being familiar to the servant, he knew what the sahibs were discussing, and contributed: "Our eyes were always on the door, sahib, and if a spirit took the leopard through the walls he would lead him to Kohima, for it is said that all his kills were made through the aid of one he acquired there."
"Come on!" Finnerty said. "We"re in a fit condition of mystification to almost accept the little man"s thesis."
A strange attendant was at the teakwood gate, but when the major explained that they simply wanted a look at the animals, being sahibs, he swung the gate for their entrance, closing it from the inside to stand near them. The heavily barred cage was empty, and there was no movement in the den behind to which a small door gave entrance.
"Where is the black leopard?" Finnerty asked quite casually.
A frown of reticence clouded the native"s face as he answered: "I don"t know, sahib."
With a covert movement, the major slipped into the man"s fingers a rupee. The gateman coughed, adjusted his belt, and said: "The Burra Sahib, Nawab Darna Singh, sent away the man who was on the gate; that is why I am now here."
"Did the man sleep at his post?"
"It may be that he did, sahib, and that way the black leopard escaped; but he was beaten by the rajah--no doubt he deserved it--and Nawab Darna Singh thinks that in anger he may have freed the dangerous one, for a small door was left open."
"And the leopard has not been seen to-day?"
"No, sahib; but it is said he was shot, by whom or where I have not heard."
Then the two pa.s.sed through the gate as mystified as when they entered.
"That destroys my solution of the mystery," Swinton declared.
With a laugh, Finnerty said: "Mahadua has the only una.s.sailable belief--that it is a spirit. But now for some breakfast. Our horses are just around the turn. We"ll slip over to my bungalow, and while we"re eating send down for Lord Victor."
Chapter XVI
When Captain Swinton and Major Finnerty arrived at the bungalow a note was sent to Lord Victor asking him to come up on horseback, as they were going off into the jungle.
Knowing that servants" ears were animate dictaphones, the two sahibs ate breakfast in comparative silence, the strenuous morning after the black leopard having braced their appet.i.tes.
Later, at restful ease in big chairs, the major said: "In this accursed land of spies one must find a place where his eyes reach farther than his voice. That, by the way, was a trick of a clever tiger I killed, the Gharwalla man-eater, through discovering that when he had made a kill he would drag the body to a certain bare hilltop from which he could watch for danger. He"d been driven up to a gun so often that he was shy of secret places. There was something grewsome about that tiger"s fiendish cunning. His favourite trick was to crouch in cover that overhung a roadway, and as a bullock cart came along pick off the driver with a flying leap and carry him to this hilltop for a leisurely meal. There was a pool close by, and, after eating, he would take a drink, roll in the sand, and then go quite a mile to thick cover for a sleep. I potted him when he was having one of his sand baths. You"ve seen a dog roll on a rug in the ecstasy of a full stomach, but with this chap there was something wondrously beautiful--if one could forget the horribleness of it--in the play of those terrible muscles and the undulating curves of the striped body as he rolled in luxurious ease, paws fanning the air and his ivory-studded jaws showing in an after dinner yawn. I watched him for ten minutes, fascinated by the charm of subtle movement combined with strength, for I was well hidden in a thick growth of rose bramble, its mottled colouring of pink and grey and green deceiving his quick eye. I was lying flat, my 10-bore covering him. When I gave a low whistle the big head faced me, and the eyes, hardened to a yellow-green murder look, were straight on. But just below the jaw was a spot with no hard skull to deflect the heavy, soft-lead ball, and behind that feathered curl of white hair was the motor of that powerful machine--the heart. He never knew what struck him. The whole cavity was just pulp--heart and lungs--when we skinned him."
A native who had come in from the jungle now came to the verandah.
"Huzoor," he began, "we knew that Burra Moti was near in the night, for Raj Bahadar was restless, c.o.c.king his ears and making soft speech through his trunk to the cunning old lady; but maybe on account of the camp fire, which we had lighted to show her that it was but a party of men who would eat and had sweet cakes for elephants who approached in a friendly spirit, she came not in. We could hear the bell tinkle, tinkle, tinkle----"
"You fool! Why do you mix lies in your report; the elephant had no bell."
Undismayed, the man answered: "The mahout maintained as much, sahib, but we all heard the bell, and Moti was in a sweet temper, for she laughed, as elephants do when they are pleased."
"It was a bird you heard--the sweet-singing shama, or a chakwa calling to his mate across a stream. Did you see her?"
"It was still dark, but we could hear Moti sigh as though her heart was troubled because she could not come to partake of the cakes we burned so that they would be known in her nostrils."
"Couldn"t come! She was free."
"As to a chain, it is true; but the sahib knows that evil attaches to things that are sacred of a temple when they have fallen into the hands of others."
"Speak!" Finnerty commanded, as the native hesitated.
"It is said--perhaps it is but a rumour of the bazaar--that Moti was of a temple up in the hills, and that in the bell was a sacred sapphire."
"But how came Moti to my place? Know you that, sage one?"
The native dismissed the sarcasm with a salaam, answering: "It is said that the temple was looted of jewels that were buried beneath a pillar."
With a start, Finnerty asked: "And the stone pillar--was it taken?" And he laughed as if in derision.
"I have heard that the pillar is in a new place, sahib."
"Is it in the prince"s grounds?" And Finnerty swept an arm toward the palace hill.
"There is a stone standing there that did not grow with the roses," the native answered enigmatically.
"Just another move in our deranged friend"s plot," Finnerty commented.
He turned to the native: "Was the lama of the temple killed?"