"Shiv hears the talk of the schools and the dreams of the holy men;
Ganesh thinks only of his fat traders; but I - I live with these my
people, asking for no gifts, and so receiving them hourly."

"And very tender art thou of thy people," said the Tigress.

"They are my own. The old women dream of me turning in their sleep;
the maids look and listen for me when they go to fill their lotahs
by the river. I walk by the young men waiting without the gates at
dusk, and I call over my shoulder to the whitebeards. Ye know,
Heavenly Ones, that I alone of us all walk upon the earth continually,
and have no pleasure in our heavens so long ,as a green blade springs
here, or there are two voices at twilight in the standing crops.
Wise are ye, but ye live far off, forgetting whence ye came. So do
I not forget. And the fire-carriage feeds your shrines, ye say? And
the fire-carriages bring a thousand pilgrims where but ten came in
the old years? True. That is true, today."

But tomorrow they are dead, brother," said Ganesh.

"Peace!" said the Bull, as Hanuman leaned forward again. "And
tomorrow, beloved - what of tomorrow?"

"This only. A new word creeping from mouth to mouth among the
Common Folk - a word that neither man nor God can lay hold of - an
evil word - a little lazy word among the Common Folk, saying (and
none know who set that word afoot) that they weary of ye, Heavenly
Ones."

The Gods laughed together softly. "And then, beloved?" they said.