But a child, destined to be a judge, cannot be put off so easily. And
besides, there was at the time nothing to attract his eyes. And you
cannot keep up for ever the pretence of an imaginary bird.

The little Master's mind was made up, and Raicharan was at his wits'
end. "Very well, baby," he said at last, "you sit still in the cart, and
I'll go and get you the pretty flower. Only mind you don't go near the
water."

As he said this, he made his legs bare to the knee, and waded
through the oozing mud towards the tree.

The moment Raicharan had gone, his little Master went off at racing
speed to the forbidden water. The baby saw the river rushing by,
splashing and gurgling as it went. It seemed as though the disobedient
wavelets themselves were running away from some greater Raicharan with
the laughter of a thousand children. At the sight of their mischief,
the heart of the human child grew excited and restless. He got down
stealthily from the go-cart and toddled off towards the river. On his
way he picked up a small stick, and leant over the bank of the stream
pretending to fish. The mischievous fairies of the river with their
mysterious voices seemed inviting him into their play-house.

Raicharan had plucked a handful of flowers from the tree, and was
carrying them back in the end of his cloth, with his face wreathed in
smiles. But when he reached the go-cart, there was no one there. He
looked on all sides and there was no one there. He looked back at the
cart and there was no one there.