"Ye were still when they polluted my waters," the great Crocodile
bellowed. "Ye made no sign when my river was trapped between the
walls. I had no help save my own strength, and that failed - the
strength of Mother Gunga failed - before their guard-towers. What
could I do? I have done everything. Finish now, Heavenly Ones!"

"I brought the death; I rode the spotted sickness from hut to hut
of their workmen, and yet they would not cease." A nose-slitten,
hide-worn Ass, lame, scissor-legged, and galled, limped forward.
"I cast the death at them out of my nostrils, but they would not
cease."

Peroo would have moved, but the opium lay heavy upon him.

"Bah!" he said, spitting. "Here is Sitala herself; Mata - the
smallpox. Has the Sahib a handkerchief to put over his face?"

"Little help! They fed me the corpses for a month, and I flung
them out on my sand-bars, but their work went forward. Demons they
are, and sons of demons! And ye left Mother Gunga alone for their
fire-carriage to make a mock of. The Justice of the Gods on the
bridge-builders!"

The Bull turned the cud in his mouth and answered slowly: "If the
Justice of the Gods caught all who made a mock of holy things
there would be many dark altars in the land, mother."

"But this goes beyond a mock," said the Tigress, darting forward a
griping paw. "Thou knowest, Shiv, and ye, too, Heavenly Ones; ye
know that they have defiled Gunga. Surely they must come to the