by John Masters
Her hand pressed steadily, turning his head towards her. The pressure held him, feeing to the north. The fingers stretched down and under his chin, and raised it, till he was looking a little up, above his own level.
A pattern moved steady down the slope, coming down among the striped and mottled moon shadow without sound or colour or size, only motion. Her hand fell away as he raised the rifle.
Not yet, too far yet. The motion continued - fifty yards, twenty, the corpse a little to the right The rifle butt fitted into his shoulder. Eyes reflected yellow and the shadow stopped. Gold tinged with green of moonlight, black softened to grey, the woman pale and shining under the eyes. The sights held fast and his right hand squeezed.
The explosion thundered away through the forest; in the boom of it the tiger leaped into the air, clawed at the top of the low tree above him with both huge forearms at full stretch, and somersaulted out of sight After a time Kendrick saw him, lying on his side thirty feet from the woman. He aimed carefully at the exposed heart under the elbow of the forearm, fired the other barrel, and at once reloaded.
After two minutes of total silence the acrid tang of cordite left his nostrils. Gradually musk and sandalwood and female replaced it. His mouth was dry. Rukmini handed him the bottle. He uncorked it and drank, and after a hesitation passed it to her.
She said, ‘That was a beautiful shot’
‘Not bad,’ he said. He ought to thank her for drawing his attention to the tiger. How did she know it was coming? Were her eyes better than his? Or was she in league with the devil, as he had begun to suspect? He dared not speak of the incident, for the memory of her hand on his neck had returned and his strength was rising again. It was always the same after a kill. Several times, on these occasions, he had come to the very point of making advances to Barbara; but each time the certainty of failure had overcome him, and, a moment later, hate for the mocking temptation.
The machan creaked as Rukmini moved her buttocks. ‘It is hard here,’ she said, the laughter liquid in her voice. ‘And I am softer than you, where I sit. You must be very sore.’
He gritted his teeth. Soft she was, soft and full. Her hand crept out again, reaching towards him. In the starlight her eyes shone and a trick of the shadows emphasized the roundness of her breasts. The hand was close.
‘Would you like a sandwich?’ she said.
It was in the hand, offered to him. He pushed her hand away. ‘No... I’m not hungry.’
With Rukmini the moment of panic would not come. But while the strength was with him he always thought that He could count the occasions when the temporary confidence had led him on to disaster - a barmaid in Oxford, a prostitute in London, two more in Calcutta, a widow in Simla - five. It always ended the same, a moment of panic, of insufficiency. ... He had been the man of the family since he was eight. He remembered his mother giving him the money to buy the railway tickets, tip the waiters, a hundred duties, playing the charade that he really was a man, his mother and sisters waiting with folded hands for him to do the job, the bowings and ’yes, sirs,’.. .But he couldn’t see over the counter and his voice was treble - everyone laughing and pretending not to, then in that moment the panic, always dropping the money on the floor, always disaster, fumbling, impotence, and afterwards loathing, uncontrollable revulsion, the tic in his cheek.
With Rukmini that could not come. She had no morals. She was ashamed of nothing. The certainty was too hard this time to fail again. His hand crept out and lay along her thigh.
She slid one arm around his neck in a firm unhesitating movement, voluptuous but full of affection. Her breast pressed, yielding, against him, and her other hand closed gently on the pride of his body. She said, ‘Here, I am here.’ His hand glided over satin skin, over the full curve. It found. ‘Forget everything, see nothing,’ she whispered. ‘Here. You are very strong.’ For a single tremendous moment he was erect, and free, and upon her. A frantic hope surged up. He had entered the very vestibule and in a moment would achieve the unknown.
At the first enfolding yield of her lips, the panic sprang upon him. Her arms pulled him down, her body tried to hold him, and the tears spurted from her eyes. He heard her groan, ‘Aaah, you’re hurting me!’ And, ‘Go on!’ she cried.
It was not true. It would never be true. He rolled slowly over on the narrow machan. She sat up and took his hands. ‘We have all night. For tonight, I am yours.’ Gently she guided his hands back to the warmth.
He pulled away, and scrambled down from the machan, leaping the last six feet in a great bound and falling forward to his knees, the rifle in his hand He picked it up and broke into a stumbling run, but her voice recalled him. ‘Mr Kendrick -please - the hamper.’ She leaned down and handed it to him.
‘Go on,’ he said harshly.
She walked steadily ahead of him through the moonlit jungle. She had offered herself to him. Was it possible, as he had believed for a moment, that she was trying to help him?
Absolutely impossible! How could she know he needed help? He didn’t need help! She offered herself because she was a bitch, a whore, a harlot, because if he succumbed she would have a hold over him, for ever. His fingers itched to touch the triggers of the rifle.
Too dangerous. No need, not when he had allies to whom money and life were of no value. But the urge to destroy her with an expanding bullet was becoming intolerable. He stopped, unloaded the rifle, and threw the two cartridges far into the jungle.
Chapter 19
Mohan and the headman and a dozen villagers met them at the entrance to Konpara, Mohan carrying a light rifle. ‘Did you get it, sir?’ he asked anxiously. He looked pale, but had apparently shaken off the fever.
‘Yes,’ Kendrick said briefly, ‘only the male.’ Rukmini stood close beside Mohan, her eyes averted from all of them.
Mohan said, ‘Word’s just come in that the tigress killed at Gharial. She attacked a herdboy, but his buffaloes drove her off. She took a calf later.’
Kendrick said, ‘Send out for the tiger at first light. Have it skinned. Let the husband take his wife’s body.’
The headman said, ‘Very good, sahib.’
Kendrick said, ‘I shall sleep for a few hours, then I shall go to Gharial after the tigress.’ Gharial was a village in the flat jungles, ten miles north of the dam.
Mohan said, ‘Can I come too, sir? I’m feeling quite all right now.’
‘No,’ Kendrick said curtly. ‘If s too dangerous.’
‘But...’ Mohan began, an obstinate look settling in his face.
Rukmini touched his arm. ‘You have to go to Deori tomorrow, for the rite.’
Mohan muttered, ‘Oh, yes, so I have. After that, though, I really think I ought...’
‘We can discuss it later,’ Kendrick said. ‘Headman, I have a few matters to discuss with you, and we had better do it now...’ With his eyes on the headman’s, he said,’... as you are going over to Vishnuswara in the morning - aren’t you?’
He waited, his heart pounding. The headman had said nothing about such a visit.
The headman said, ‘Yes, sahib.’
Kendrick turned away, trying to keep his excitement out of his face. The headman understood, or he would have told the truth.
‘Come along then,’ he said. ‘Good night’
‘Good night, sir,’ Mohan replied.
‘Good night, Mr Kendrick,’ Rukmini said. Her voice sounded very small and tired. Well, she’d failed, and the days of her power were numbered.
With the headman walking five paces behind him Kendrick strode up to Southdown. The lights in the drawing-room blazed across the lawn as he approached. Why wasn’t Barbara in bed? Usually she went very soon after dinner.
Foster rose as he entered the drawing-room. Kendrick stared at him in astonishment Foster stared back. Then Kendrick remembered that Foster was there to guard Barbara. ‘I killed the male,’ he said. Thank you, Foster.’
Foster left. Barbara said, ‘I shall retire now.’ Kendrick hardly h
eard, but walked out of the room, calling to the headman to follow. When he had lighted the lamp in the study, he sat down behind his desk. The headman stood opposite.
Kendrick said nothing for a long time. He must go carefully, though he was certain. At last he said, ‘The Buddha was placed where we found it - by men of Konpara.’
‘I fear so, sahib,’ the headman said. His hands were joined in front of his waist, the left uppermost, showing the stump of the missing thumb.
Kendrick said, ‘There was a bar of gold worth thirty thousand rupees under the Buddha.’
‘So I have heard. It was not told to us at the time.’
‘Twenty more such bars were placed where the Pathans would find them.’
The headman did not speak.
‘A buffalo cow was tethered on the hillside above the machan tonight.’
‘It returned to the village at dusk.’
‘You are a good headman, Huttoo Lall. Nothing happens in your village that you do not know.’
‘Your honour is gracious to his servant.’
‘So you knew that the buffalo cow was there. In fact, you ordered it to be taken there, while the machan was being built.’
He expected that he would have to wait, to overcome denials; but the headman said, ‘Yes, sahib.’
‘And the man-eaters - they were brought here from Saugor.’
‘Yes, sahib.’
‘Why?’
‘Your honour can read the hearts of such simple men as ourselves more easily than a book.’
‘Where the cave?’
The gods will lead your honour to it, if that is their intention.’
Kendrick’s voice rose. ‘You aren’t going to tell me? I shall not reveal the secret. I do not wish it known. You know why ... But tell me.’
‘The knowledge would be dangerous to your honour.’
Kendrick sat back and controlled himself. ‘There must be no more guiding of tigers. Leave the female. I shall deal with her - at the proper time.’
‘Very good, sahib.’
Kendrick picked up a pencil and idly drew the trident sign. ‘What else? We are of one mind, but it is very dangerous if the right hand does not know what the left hand is doing. I must know.’
‘Your honour shall know... It is proper and needful to make a sacrifice at this time.’
‘Who?’
‘One, above all, threatens us.’
‘Threatens us all,’ Kendrick said. He looked up. ‘A thousand rupees for you.’
The headman’s eyes flickered and Kendrick knew he had made a mistake. Money did not matter to these people. The headman said, ‘Two bars of gold for your honour, to temper justice if anyone is caught.’
Sixty thousand rupees, Kendrick thought Carefully he .erased the trident ‘Remember, I must appear to use all my powers against whatever, or whoever is discovered.’
‘It is understood, sahib.’
Kendrick rose abruptly. ‘That is all. These words that we have spoken have not been spoken.’
‘I have heard nothing, lord ... I shall punish the man responsible for leaving the buffalo cow on the hillside.’
‘Punish him severely,’ Kendrick said, as he walked down the passage at the headman’s side. ‘He nearly prevented me getting the tiger.’
Chapter 20
The five men and three women sat in a loose circle in the shade of a tree. The hookah in the centre of the circle gurgled gently as one of the men drew the long pipe to him and, holding the mouth-piece in his loosely clenched fist so that his lips should not touch it, began to suck the acrid fumes into his lungs.
Another spoke. ‘Now, with only the female left, it will not take long.’
Another said, ‘He is cunning and skilful in the jungle. A week, at the most’
There was a long pause. The man with the hookah passed the mouthpiece to his clockwise neighbour. ‘Not enough,’ he said.
Another long pause. ‘The sacrifice must be made, then,’ one said.
Silence. Silence was acquiescence, here.
‘Who?’
‘The leader.’
‘Who leads? Not he who came, and will go?’
‘She.’
The hookah tube passed again. One of the dark, naked men was using the blade of his long-handled axe to shape a small piece of wood into a flat plate, about three inches square. He spoke without looking up from his task. ‘It is right. She leads. She will not rest She has no fear. Did she not free the buffalo cow?’
‘I do not like it, She is of us.’
‘By blood, a part. She has left us.’
‘The blood is thick. She knows. I have seen it in her eyes.’
‘So be it.’
The hookah bubbled. A long-tailed grey monkey peered down at the men from a lower branch of the tree, his eyes darting from man to man, his shoulders hunched.
‘Who then will act? We appoint by lot?’
‘I have the marked stones.’
‘No. We appoint by choice. They must be strong. Young, but not foolish. Knowing the land.’
‘How many?’
‘Two.’
The monkey crept out along the branch and dropped to the ground a few yards beyond the outskirts of the gathering. There he paused a moment, crouched for flight, momentarily frightened by the sudden movement and the small sound of his own fall Reassured, he squatted on his haunches, his head bent forward, the ninth of the council. The men and women began to speak in turn, a single word at a time. Each word was a name. The others listened, digested, and shook their heads. At last a name was accepted and, thirty minutes later, another.
Everyone smoked from the hookah. The monkey watched. One of the men said, ‘It is wrong that the Impotent One should raise his hand secretly against her, without cause and without sorrow.’
‘It is a sin. He is a fool, and will not understand.’
Silence.
The whittler finished the wooden square, gave it to one of the others, and started on a second. One by one they stood up and drifted away in different directions, until only one man was left, with the hookah. Below, in a small clearing, three tethered buffaloes grazed on the sere grass. His back against the tree, the last man watched them as they grazed. The monkey, which had hurried back into the tree when the first man made a move, became bored and swung away, chattering, to join his friends in a distant part of the jungle. After a time an old woman came through the trees and the man picked up his hookah and axe and strode away, while the old woman untied the buffaloes’ tethers and drove them after him, beating their backs with a long stick and calling them names in a cracked, high voice.
Chapter 21
Stripped to the waist, his body glistening, Mohan huddled against Smith in the narrow tunnel of the crevice. A few feet ahead Foster placed the last of the present batch of charges into position. Behind them the tunnel now. extended fifteen feet towards the irregular oval of the entrance.
‘All right. Out now,’ Foster muttered.
They crawled out, Foster uncoiling the fuse behind him. Near the mouth of the excavation they set to work to re-erect the rough, low wall of big stones which they built across the entrance before blasting every charge, to prevent accidents and protect the structure of the platform. Then, from the foot of the scaffold, Mohan and Smith watched Foster light the fuse and hurry down to join them in shelter under the cliff. Seconds later a heavy boom shook the pit wall and a cloud of dust shot out of the tunnel entrance.
The three of them climbed back up the scaffolding. The dust was settling, and they crept through a thinning reddish haze to the farther end. Mohan saw that another two feet of shaft had been forced-in, very rough and small now. Foster moved the lantern carefully over the newly exposed stone, and tapped the rock with his hammer. Mohan could detect no hollowness in the sound, no sign that there was anything but more rock ahead. The fissure that they were following continued its path into the rock, faintly discoloured at the edges where exposure to the air currents had caused a continuin
g chemical process.
They crawled back in silence, and in silence climbed the ladder to the top of the cliff. Foster said, ‘That lot of debris will bloody well have to stay there for now. I haven’t got time to clear it.’
‘I’ll clear it tomorrow,’ Smith said.
‘I’ll help,’ Mohan said.
‘No,’ Foster said roughly. ‘You’ve got a more important job. Help Kendrick with the man-eater.’
‘He won’t let me,’ Mohan said.
Foster said, ‘Make him! I wish I knew that this tunnel was leading us somewhere, with all the time and trouble it’s taking, and now no coolies on the job.’
Smith said mildly, ‘We know the crevice has another exit.’
Early in the morning Foster had burned a bundle of kerosene-soaked wet grass inside the shaft. Nearly all the smoke had been sucked into the crevice, but although Smith and Mohan himself, with binoculars, had watched from the verandah of Cheltondale, they had not seen the smoke emerge on the ground above.
Foster shrugged. He looked at Mohan. ‘Why don’t .you have a try at getting some villagers to come back to work? They’re safe enough on the platform, at least.’
‘I’ll try,’ Mohan said. ‘When I come back from Deori. The headman’s doing his best, too, but - they’re frightened, and this search doesn’t mean anything to them. The dam does.’
‘Well, have a try,’ Foster said. ‘They’ll listen to you in the way they won’t to anyone else.’
Mohan acknowledged the compliment with a smile. Foster’s manner to him had altered greatly. The outward roughness was still there, but there was no venom beneath it, nor contempt. He seemed to know that Mohan’s relations with Mrs Kendrick had changed, and to realise, at the same time, that the change was not due to his own threats. In his awkward manner he had made an effort to establish a new relationship, of curt familiarity on his side, and neutral acceptance on Mohan’s. He had changed in other ways, too, unconnected with the personal relations between them. He spoke less and his red, open face was sometimes marked with the lines of unaccustomed emotions, of decisions whose weight he was finding unexpectedly heavy. At other times he stood looking at nothing, and then his face was completely calm, with a confidence that had never been there before.
