alone into the forest?"

"The sahib is not as other sahibs," broke in an old coolie. "I was with him
before--in Buxa Duar. There is naught in the jungle that can puzzle him. He
knows its ways, the speech of the men in it--ay, and of its animals, too.
He was a great _shikari_ (hunter) in those old days. Many beasts have
fallen to his gun. Yet now he goes forth for days and brings back no heads.
What does he?"

"For days, say you, Chotu?" queried another _mahout_. "Ay, for more than
days. For nights. What man among us, what man even of these wild men around
us, would willingly pass a night in the forest?"

"True talk," agreed the old Mohammedan. "Which of us would care to lie down
alone beside his elephant in the jungle all night? Yet the sahib sleeps
there--if he does sleep--without fear. And no harm comes to him."

Ramnath slowly shook his head.

"The sahib does not sleep. Nor is there aught in the forest that can do him
harm. Or my elephant either. The _budmash_ tried to kill the sahib, and
Badshah protected him. When the big snake attacked Badshah, the sahib saved
him.

"But what do they in the forest?" asked Chotu again. "Tell me that,
Ramnath-_ji_."

Once more Ramnath shook his head.

"What know we? We are black men. What knowledge have we of what the sahibs