The two Bagrees turned to where the slim pink-and-grey coated trotting
bullocks were tethered by their short horns to a tree and leading them
to the cart made fast the bamboo yoke across their necks.

"Get into the cart, Bootea," Hunsa commanded, for the girl had not
moved.

"I will not!" she declared. "I'm going back to Ajeet; he is not
dead--it is a trick."

"He _is_ dead," Hunsa snarled, seizing her by arm.

The Gulab screamed words of denunciation. "Take your hands off me, son
of a pig, accursed man of low caste! Ajeet will kill you for this,
dog!"

At this the wife of Sookdee fled, racing back toward the camp. One of
the men darted forward to follow, but Hunsa stayed him, saying, "Let
her go--it is better; I war not upon Sookdee."

He had the Gulab now in the grasp of both his huge paws, and holding
her tight, said rapidly: "Be still you she-devil, accursed fool! You
are going to a palace to be a queen. The son of the Peshwa desires
you. True, I, also, have desire, but fear not for, by Bhowanee! it is
a life of glory, of jewels and rich attire that I take you to; so get
into the cart."

But Bootea wrenched free an arm and struck Hunsa full upon his ugly
face, screaming her rebellion.