This time she called to the _hamal_, a Bhil, engaged out of
compassion, and likely, as a son of the jungle's sons, to be of more
courage than the stall-fed butler in presence of dangerous beast or
reptile.

"_Hamal_: I want you," she called coolly.

"Mem-Sahib?" came the reply from the lamp-room near by, and the man
approached.

"That stupid butler has dropped a lamp and run away. Bring a pail of
water quickly and call to the _malli_[3] to bring a pail of earth as
you get it. Hasten!--and there is baksheesh," said Mrs. de Warrenne
quietly in the vernacular.

Tap and pail were by the door of the back verandah. In a minute the
_hamal_ entered and flung a pail of water on the burning pool of oil,
reducing the mass of blue lambent flames considerably.

"Now _hamal_," said the fainting woman, the more immediate danger
confronted, "bring another lamp very quickly and put it on the shelf.
Quick! don't stop to fill or to clean it."

Was the pricking, shooting pain the repeated stabbing of the snake's
fangs or was it "pins and needles"? Was this deadly faintness death
indeed, or was it only weakness?

In what seemed but a few more years the man reappeared carrying a
lighted lamp, the which he placed upon a shelf.