and they drink tobacco, and they nod their heads together forward
in a ring, or sideways toward the dead man upon the bank. They say the
English Law will come with a rope for this matter, and that such a man's
family will be ashamed, because such a man must be hanged in the great
square of the Jail. Then say the friends of the dead, 'Let him hang!'
and the talk is all to do over again--once, twice, twenty times in the
long night. Then says one, at last, 'The fight was a fair fight. Let us
take blood-money, a little more than is offered by the slayer, and we
will say no more about it.' Then do they haggle over the blood-money,
for the dead was a strong man, leaving many sons. Yet before amratvela
(sunrise) they put the fire to him a little, as the custom is, and the
dead man comes to me, and HE says no more about it. Aha! my children,
the Mugger knows--the Mugger knows--and my Malwah Jats are a good
people!"

"They are too close--too narrow in the hand for my crop," croaked the
Adjutant. "They waste not the polish on the cow's horn, as the saying
is; and, again, who can glean after a Malwai?"

"Ah, I--glean--THEM," said the Mugger.

"Now, in Calcutta of the South, in the old days," the Adjutant went on,
"everything was thrown into the streets, and we picked and chose. Those
wore dainty seasons. But to-day they keep their streets as clean as the
outside of an egg, and my people fly away. To be clean is one thing;
to dust, sweep, and sprinkle seven times a day wearies the very Gods
themselves."

"There was a down-country jackal had it from a brother, who told me,
that in Calcutta of the South all the jackals were as fat as otters in
the Rains," said the Jackal, his mouth watering at the bare thought of
it.

"Ah, but the white-faces are there--the English, and they bring dogs
from somewhere down the river in boats--big fat dogs--to keep those same
jackals lean," said the Adjutant.

"They are, then, as hard-hearted as these people? I might have known.
Neither earth, sky, nor water shows charity to a jackal. I saw the tents
of a white-face last season, after the Rains, and I also took a new
yellow bridle to eat. The white-faces do not dress their leather in the
proper way. It made me very sick."

"That was better than my case," said the Adjutant. "When I was in my
third season, a young and a bold bird, I went down to the river where
the big boats come in. The boats of the English are thrice as big as
this village."