Adventure Magazine Cover, November 10, 1924 — page 108: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

106 Still chuckling, they got up and left the room by the door leading to the street, taking the mat with them and locking the door as they went out. No explanation; not a word to Ommony as to what was ex- pected of him; not even a backward glance at the gallery to suggest that they had him in mind. Ommony sat still for a while; then, whistling Diana, he made his way to the gallery door, found that open, and pro- ceeded to explore; but he found all the other doors along the passage locked, ex- cept the one at the end that opened into the room: assigned to himself. He looked through the window into the compound, where there was all kinds of noise and confusion. Four men were trying to throw a mule and several other mules had broken loose; an elephant was lying on its back near a water butt while two mahouts scrubbed its belly; and two bull camels were fighting with everything except their tails, while twenty onlookers heaped humorous advice on rather bored looking experts, who were watching for a chance to rope the brutes by the leg and ‘separate them. And in the midst of all that riot, with the sun pouring down on them and crows and sparrows hopping about among them, Maitraya and his troupe sat on boxes, re- peating their lines to one another. The box nearest Ommony, on which a woman sat, announced in bold red stencil that it came from New York and had once held a mechanical calculator. It appeared that the devil’s part already had been written. Maitraya held a small scroll in addition to his own, and was trying to teach the lines to Dawa Tsering, who was disposed to believe he could play the devil better if left to his own resources. “T tell you, a devil is devilish!” he shouted. “A devil is like one of those bull camels— you never know what he’ll do next! Or like a mule—you have to look out for his teeth and heels! This devil of yours is like a pretty gentleman. Here, let me show you how to act the devil!’’ But Maitraya stuck to it, patiently cor- recting the Hillman’s mispronunciation of the Urdu words, sitting silent through ex- plosions of ill temper, and resuming the lesson as soon as each blast of rebellion had squandered itself. Something—some one— had wrought a miracle in Maitraya, or else Adventure the man’s former conceit had been only a phase through which he had to pass before settling down to business; he was display- ing as much patience as if Dawa Tsering were his son. Catching sight of Ommony through the window, he called to him to come out and take part in the rehearsal; but the door was still locked, and though he could have climbed through the window easily enough Ommony preferred discretion. He hardly liked to confess that he was locked in, not knowing what effect that news might have on Maitraya. After a moment’s hesitation he excused himself on religious grounds “TI must recite the mantras.” Even Maitraya, possessed by an almost absolute religious cynicism, respected that Brahman’s privilege. Himself forbidden to recite the mantras on pain of curses too frightful to contemplate, and in his bolder moments scurrilously critical, he neverthe- less touched both hands to his forehead, symbolizing that he was as dirt beneath a Brahman’s feet, and Ommony was left to his own meditations, which were mixed, amused and mystified in turn. His thoughts drifted to politics. Was the lama planning revolution, to be brought about by propaganda among women, with the aid of such strong independents as Prabhu Singh? It had begun to look like it. But if so, what part was the chela to play? And why had Prabhu Singh been so embarrassed in the chela’s presence? His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door behind him. It was al- most as if Providence had answered. ‘The chela came in. He had changed his clothes again and was in the same snuff-colored robe in which Ommony first saw him in Chutter Chand’s back room. His face was an enigma—a mask with a marvelous smile on it; but the eyes, to Ommony, suggested excitement, or it might have been extremely keen amusement; at any rate, some strong emotion was shining through the self-con- trolled exterior. The remarkable thing was, that the youngster’s calm did not suggest fanatical asceticism, or conceit. He seemed human, curious and not unfriendly. Diana’s tail thumped on the floor. Flies buzzed in and out through the window. There was nothing in the situation to cause nervousness, and yet Ommony confessed to himself that he did feel nervous. He felt an inclination to shudder; the sort of Comicbooolk A) (© =