Page:Quartette - Kipling (1885).djvu/72

 chuckling and laughing to himself. Suppressing my first impulse to catch the wretched man by the neck and throw him on to the quicksand, I rose sullenly and followed him to the platform below the burrows. Suddenly and futilely as I thought while I spoke, I asked:—"Gunga Dass, what is the good of the boat if I can't get out anyhow?" I recollect that even in my deepest trouble I had been speculating vaguely on the waste of ammunition in guarding an already protected foreshore. Gunga Dass laughed again and made answer:—"They have the boat only in day time. It is for the reason that there is a way. I hope we shall have the pleasure of your company for much longer time. It is a pleasant spot enough when you have been here some years and eaten roast crow long enough."

I staggered numbed and helpless towards the fetid burrow allotted to me and fell asleep. An hour or so later I was awakened by a piercing scream—the shrill, high-pitched scream of a horse in pain. Those who have once heard it will never forget the sound. I found some little difficulty in scrambling out of the burrow. When I was in the open, I saw Pornic, poor faithful Pornic, lying dead on the sandy soil. How they had killed him I cannot guess. Ganga DasGunga Dass [sic] explained that horse was better than crow, and "greatest good of greatest number" is political maxim. We are now Republic, Mister Jukes, and you are entitled to a fair share of the beast. If you like, we will pass a vote of thanks. Shall I propose?"

Yes, we were a Republic indeed! A Republic of wild beasts penned at the bottom of a pit to eat and fight and sleep till we died. I attempted no protest of any kind, but sat down and stared at the hideous sight in front of me. In less time almost than it takes me to write this, Pornic's body was divided, in some unclean way or other; the men and women had dragged the fragments on to the platform and were preparing their morning meal. Gunga Dass cooked mine. The almost irresistible impulse to fly at the sand walls until I was wearied had again laid hold of me, and I had to struggle against it with all my might. Gunga Dass was offensively jocular till I told him that if he addressed another remark of any kind whatever to me I should strangle him where he sat. This silenced him till silence became insupportable, and I bade him say something. "You will live here till you die like the other Feringhi," he said coolly, watching me over the