questioned as to where they had learned to make fire, the
Fishing-mulgars told Ghibba that a certain squinting Moh-mulgar had come
their way once along the torrent, tongue-tied and trembling with palsy.
By the fire he had made for himself the Fishing-mulgars, after he was
gone, had stacked wood, and this was the selfsame fire that had been
kept burning ever since. Did once this fire die out, not knowing of, nor
having any, first-sticks, it would be raw fish for the tribe for
evermore. On hearing this, the travellers looked long at one another
between gladness and dismay--gladness to hear that their father Seelem
(if it was he) had come alive out of the Orchards, and dismay for his
many ills.

They made their camp for two nights with these friendly people. They are
as dull and stupid in most things as they are artful at fishing. But
they are, beyond even the Munza-mulgars, mischievous mimics. Even the
little ones would come mincing and peeping with wisps of moss and grass
stuck on their faces for eyebrows and whiskers, their long tails cocked
over their shoulders, their eyes screwed up, in imitation of the Men of
the Mountains. Lank old Thimble laughed himself hoarse at these
children. At night they beat little wood drums of different notes round
their fires, making a sort of wearisome harmony. They also play at many
sports--"Fish in the Ring," "A tail, a tail, a tail!" and "Here sups
Sullilulli." But I will not describe them, for they are just such games
as are played all the world over by Oomgar and Mulgar alike. They are
all, however, young and old, hale and paralysed, incorrigible thieves
and gluttons, and rarely comb themselves.

All along the rocky banks of the torrent the travellers passed next day
the snug green houses of these Fishing-mulgars. Nod often stayed awhile
to watch their fishing, and almost wished he had a tail, so that he,
too, might smear and dangle and watch and plunge. But their language Nod
could not in the least understand. Only by the help of signs and
grimaces and long palaver could even Ghibba himself understand them. But
he learned at least that, for some reason, the travellers would not long
be able to follow the river, for the Fishing-mulgar would first point to
the travellers, then to the water, and draw a great arch with their
finger in the air, shaking their little heads with shut eyes.

Ghibba tried in vain to catch exactly what they meant by these signs,
for they had no word to de