His eyes rolled in the darkness following the roar. A Mugger - the
blunt-nosed, ford-haunting Mugger of the Ganges - draggled herself
before the beasts, lashing furiously to right and left with her tail.

"They have made it too strong for me. In all this night I have
only torn away a handful of planks. The walls stand. The towers
stand. They have chained my flood, and the river is not free any
more. Heavenly Ones, take this yoke away! Give me clear water
between bank and bank! It is I, Mother Gunga, that speak. The
Justice of the Gods! Deal me the Justice of the Gods!"

"What said I?" whispered Peroo. "This is in truth a Punchayet of
the Gods. Now we know that all the world is dead, save you and I,
Sahib."

The Parrot screamed and fluttered again, and the Tigress, her ears
flat to her head, snarled wickedly.

Somewhere in the shadow, a great trunk and gleaming tusks swayed to
and fro, and a low gurgle broke the silence that followed on the
snarl.

"We be here," said a deep voice, " the Great Ones. One only and
very many. Shiv, my father, is here, with Indra. Kali has spoken
already. Hanuman listens also."

"Kashi is without her Kotwal tonight," shouted the Man with the
drinking-bottle, flinging his staff to the ground, while the island
rang to the baying of hounds. "Give her the Justice of the Gods."