fields new year after year, and by thy flood they are made strong.
They come all to thee at the last. What need to slay them now?
Have pity, mother, for a little and it is only for a little."

"If it be only for a little -" the slow beast began.

"Are they Gods, then?" Krishna, returned with a laugh, his eyes
looking into the dull eyes of the River. "Be certain that it is
only for a little. The Heavenly Ones have heard thee, and
presently justice will be done. Go now, mother, to the flood again.
Men and cattle are thick on the waters - the banks fall - the
villages melt because of thee."

"But the bridge-the bridge stands." The Mugger turned grunting
into the undergrowth as Krishna rose.

"It is ended," said the Tigress, viciously. "There is no more
justice from the Heavenly Ones. Ye have made shame and sport of
Gunga, who asked no more than a few score lives."

"Of my people - who lie under the leaf-roofs of the village yonder
- of the young girls, and the young men who sing to them in the
dark of the child that will be born next morn - of that which was
begotten tonight," said Krishna. "And when all is done, what
profit? Tomorrow sees them at work. Ay, if ye swept the bridge out
from end to end they would begin anew. Hear me! Bhairon is drunk
always. Hanuman mocks his people with new riddles."

"Nay, but they are very old ones," the Ape said, laughing.