number of bearers and he can keep near the palki."

Mrs. Gupta tried to cheer the servant with this information but he
wailed: "Ma-ji, I am afraid. Surely a tiger will kill me to-night."

"Do not fear," consoled the kind lady. "Your master will take good
care of you." "Go you must," she continued in a firm tone. "There is
no one except you who knows his ways and can see to his comfort. Now
get ready quickly."

"Oh, Ma-ji," he sobbed like a child, "I obey, but my heart is heavy."

Mr. Gupta had to travel through the night. After an early dinner he
started, attended by many palki-bearers and the old servant. The moon
rose bright and glorious and bathed the picturesque country in soft
radiance. The silence of the forest was broken only by the rhythmic
cries of the bearers and the pat-pat of their feet. The first stream
was reached and the bearers asked for a halt. Consent granted, they
went into the stream to drink of the deeper water. The old servant
crouched by the palki.

"Thirstest not?" kindly asked his master.

"Babu-ji, I feel nervous. I will stay near you."

Gupta wondered what might have unstrung the man, and felt sorry for
him. "Come and sit close to me," he said.

The night was cold and the old bearer, huddled in his blanket, sat
on the edge of the palki door.