"Yes, sahib!"

"All right. I'm going to have a talk with him. Kill the goat, and tell
the Punjabi to wait, if he wants to buy the skin."

"Ha, sahib!"

Brown spun round on his heel, and the servant wilted.

"Yes, sahib!" he corrected.

Brown left him then, with a nod that conveyed remission of cardinal sin,
and a warning not to repeat the offence. As the native ran off to get
the butcher-knife and sharpen it, it was noticeable that he wore a
chastened look.

"Send Sidiki after me!" Brown shouted after him, and a minute later a
nearly naked Beluchi struck a match and emerged from the darkness, with
the light of a lantern gleaming on his skin. He followed like a snake,
and only Brown's sharp, authority-conveying footfalls could be heard as
he trudged sturdily--straight-backed, eyes straight in front of him--to
where an age-old baobab loomed like a phantom in the night. He marched
like a man in armor. Not even the terrific heat of a Central-Indian
night could take the stiffening out of him.

The Beluchi ran ahead, just before they reached the tree. He stopped and
held the lantern up to let its light fall on some object that was close
against the tree-trunk. At a good ten-pace distance from the object
Brown stopped and stared. The lamplight fell on two little dots that
gleamed. Brown stepped two paces nearer. Two deadly, malicious human
eyes blinked once, and then stared back at him.

"Does he never sleep?" asked Brown.

The Beluchi said something or other in a language that was full of harsh
hard gutturals, and the owner of the eyes chuckled. His voice seemed
to be coming from the tree itself, and there was nothing of him visible
except the cruel keen eyes that had not blinked once since Brown drew
nearer.

"Well?"

"Sahib, he does not answer."

"Tell him I'm tired of his not answering. Tell him that if he can't
learn to give a civil answer to a civilly put question I'll exercise my
authority on him!"

The Beluchi translated, or pretended to. Brown was not sure which, for
he was rewarded with nothing but another chuckle, which sounded like
water gurgling down a drain.

"Does he still say nothing?"

"Absolutely nothing, sahib."

Brown stepped up closer yet, and peered into the blackness, looking
straight into the eyes that glared at him, and from them down at the
body of the owner of them. The Beluchi shrank away.

"Have a care, sahib! It is dangerous! This very holy--most holy--most
religious man