Argosy All-Story Weekly, January 13, 1923 — page 30: what you’re looking at

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

“Perhaps. Diane Herries has been tak- en away not merely by these puny weakling Hindus. We've got to realize that! It’s something infinitely more terrible we’ve got to fight!” ‘““ Nothing can be too terrible—”’ The major’s eyes narrowed and he an- nounced with a cool incisiveness: ‘‘ The power against us is something you, Dun- boyne, have never faced. It’s the jungle!” Dunboyne did not answer. He turned groping for the door that led to the main part of the bungalow. As he reached the threshold he stopped, and the major came behind him thinking he was about to fall. At Dunboyne’s feet was a Being clothed in rags, and salaaming in abject worship. It was the chuprassit, and as his head touched the floor, the two white men could see the nape of his neck, where as he had affirmed he had been stung by a scorpion. A yellowish swelling was there like a bubble on coffee, “ Get out of my way, damn you!” Dun- boyne cried. The chuprassi looked up. Apparently he had recovered from his coma; his eyes, as he peered at the white men, were free from their glassy stare. They glittered—almost twinkled, as they had the night before. He lifted his hands palms upward toward Dun- beyne and Kesh, then pointed to himself. It was a humble but pregnant three words that he offered: ‘ May I suggest?” CHAPTER IV. A TEST OF NERVE. “Ww AM an outcaste chuprassi. I am a | wretched filthy being, prostrate in the presence of two sons of the Sun!” “Now cut out that balmy and tell us what you’re here for,” Dunboyne snapped as the chuprassi crawled into the room and salaamed again. “Tt is to you, Heaven-born, that I bring my message,” the servant said lifting his face to Dunboyne. ‘“ You, who are the bridegroom of the Lovely One who is lost! You who so honored me last night with the touch of your boot—who blessed me with your sacred toe—who—” ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, ‘ For God’s sake say what you have to say!’’ Dunboyne cried desperately. ‘‘T have come to you as a devotee comes toasaint. I offer myself to you—this poor foul body the very shadow of which is de- filement to Brahmins as well as to you who are of the Twice-born! I offer my humble and wretched wisdom to help you find the Lovely One who is promised as your mate.” ‘You know where she is?”’ ‘* Oh, Cherisher ef the Needy—yes!” ‘My God, where—tell us! Ill reward you with a thousand pounds! Tell us!” Dunboyne took the man by his dirty chu- prasst coat and yanked him to his feet. The fellow was lithe, slender, with a body that seemed youthful. Dunboyne was heavy, tense, as clumsy as an enraged bull. ‘Yes, I will tell you. I will, sahib! She has been taken—Immaculate One that she is—to the jungle of Jamgad! She will be given to the Gods, as the holy wife who commits sutiee is given, so that for many generations her family will be blessed.” The last words of this speech were uttered from the corner of the room where the ciu- prassi had been hurled bodily by the dis- gusted Dunboyne. “ Damn you for your impudence,” the latter barked out. “ We know that already!” The major joined in a disgusted string of oaths, “ But can you find her? Oh, blessed sahib? Is your wisdom sufficient for this— to find her? - You who are British know nothing about Jamgad—dung heap among cities! I am Hindu—lI know every palace, every ghat, temple, masjid and holy tank within its filthy walls. I speak many lan- guages—Pushto of the Mohammedans, Pan- jabi of the Sikhs as well as Hindustani! I know the jungle—”’ Dunboyne held up his hand. He had been staring fixedly into the eyes of the ragged servant, as had the major. A light came into the eyes of both the white men. ‘You say you know the jungle?”’ Dun- boyne asked. ‘““T know it, sahib, as the minah knows its nest, the spider its web, and the crocodile its fen!” | ‘“ But do you know the way to Jamgad— a secret way—” COPMICLOOOKS (E@)