said the Bull.
"I am Bhairon of the Common Folk, and this my staff is Kotwal of all
Kashi. I spoke for the Common People."
"Thou?" The young God's eyes sparkled.
"Am I not the first of the Gods in their mouths to-day?" returned
Bhairon, unabashed. "For the sake of the Common People I said--very
many wise things which I have now forgotten--but this my staff----"
Krishna turned impatiently, saw the Mugger at his feet, and kneeling,
slipped an arm round the cold neck. "Mother," he said gently, "get
thee to thy flood again. The matter is not for thee. What harm shall
thy honour take of this live dirt? Thou hast given them their fields
new year after year, and by thy flood they are made strong. They come
all to thee at the last. What need to slay them now? Have pity,
mother, for a little--and it is only for a little."
"If it be only for a little----" the slow beast began.
"Are they Gods, then?" Krishna returned with a laugh, his eyes looking
into the dull eyes of the River. "Be certain that it is only for a
little. The Heavenly Ones have heard thee, and presently justice will
be done. Go, now, mother, to the flood again. Men and cattle are thick
on the waters--the banks fall--the villages melt because of thee."
"But the bridge--the bridge stands." The Mugger turned grunting into
the undergrowth as Krishna rose.
"It is ended," said the Tigress, viciously. "There is no more justice
from the Heavenly Ones. Ye have made shame and sport of Gunga, who
asked no more than a few score lives."
"Of _my_ people--who lie under the leaf-roofs of the village
yonder--of the young girls, and the young men who sing to them," said
Krishna. "And when all is done, what profit? To-morrow sees them at
work. Ay, if ye swept the bridge out from end to end they would begin
anew. Hear me! Bhairon is drunk always. Hanuman mocks his people with
new riddles."
"Nay, but they are very old ones," the Ape said, laughing.
"Shiv hears the talk of the schools and the dreams of the holy men;
Ganesh thinks only of his fat traders; but I--I live with these my
people, asking for no gifts, and so receiving them hourly."
"And very tender art thou of thy people," said the Tigress.
"They are my own. The old women dream of me, turning in their sleep;
the maids look and listen for me when they go to fill their lotahs by
the river. I walk by the young men waiting without the gates at dusk,
and I call over my shoulder to the white-beards. Ye kno
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