The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1890-11-21
BY WORD OF MOUTH.

1.-THE author Of this story, Rudyard Kipling, Is o
| young Englishman who has lived most Of his life
| in British India. His stories OF that country,
written during personal contact with its people
and the British army, have recently attracted q
| great deal Of attention both in England and
America.]
This tale may be explained by those
who know how souls are made, and
where the bounds of the possible are put
down. have lived long enough in this
country to know that it is best to know
nothing, and can only write the story as
it happened.
Dumoise was our civil surgeon at
Meridki, and we called him ''Dormouse, :"
because he was round little, sleepy lit
tie man. He was a good doctor, and
never quarreled with any one, not even
with our deputy commissioner, who had
the manners of a bargee and the tact of
a horse. He married girl as round
and as sleepy looking as himself. She
was a Miss Hillardyce, daughter of
Squash" Hillardyce of the Berars, who
married his chiefs daughter by mistake
A honeymoon in India is seldom more
than a week long; but there is nothing
to hinder a couple from extending it
over two or three years. This is a de-
lightful country for married folk who
are wrapped up in one another. They
can live absolutely alone and without
interruption, just as the Dorrnice did.
These two little people retired from the
world after their marriage, and were
very happy. They were forced, of
course, to give occasional dinners. but
they made no friends hereby. and the
Station went its own way and forgot
them, only saying occasionally that Dor
mouse was the best Of good fellows,
though dull. A civil surgeon who never
quarrels is rarity, appreciated as such.
Few people can afford to play Robin
son Crusoe anywhere-least of all in In
dia, where we are few in the land, and
very much dependent on each others
kind offices. Dumoise was wrong in
shutting himself from the world for a
year, and he discovered his mistake
when an epidemic of typhoid broke out
in the station in the heart of the cold
weather, and his wife went down. He
was shy little man, and five days were
wasted before Re realized that Mrs
Dumoise was burning with something
worse than simple fever, and three days
more passed before he ventured to call
on Mrs. Shute, the engineers wife, and
timidly speak about his trouble. Nearly
every household in India knows that
doctors are very helpless in typhoid.
The battle must be fought out between
death and the nurses, minute by minute
and degree by degree. Mrs. Shute al
most boxed Dumoise's ears for what she
called his criminal delay" and went off
at once to look after the DOOR girl. We
had seven cases of typhoid in the station
that winter, and as the average of death
is about one in every five cases, we felt
certain that we should have to lose
somebody.
But all did their best. Tho women sat
up nursing the women, and the men
turned to and tended the bachelors who
were down, and we wrestled with those
typhoid cases for fifty-six days, and
brought them through the valley of the
shadow in triumph. But, just when we
thought all was over, and were going to
give dance to celebrate the victory,
little Mrs. Dumoise got relapse and
died in week and the station went to
the funeral. Dumoise broke down utterly
at the brink Of the grave, and had to be
taken away.
After the death Dumoise crept into his
own house and refused to be comforted.
He did his duties perfectly, but we all
felt that he should go on leave, and the
other men of his own service told him
so. Dumoise was very thankful for the
suggestion-he was thankful for any
thing in those days-and went to Chin
on walking tour. ChIni is some twenty
marches from Simla, in the heart of the
hills, and the scenery is good if you are
in trouble. You pass through big, still,
deodar forests, and under big, still cliffs,
and over big, still grass downs swelling
/ like a woman's breasts, and the wind
across the grass and the rain among the
deodars says, ush-hush--hush." So
little Dumoise was packed off to Chini
to wear down his grief with full plate
camera and rifle. He took also use
l6SS DedrcT, UeCduS0 ttlo HAL udu Ue6u
his wife's favorite servant. He was idle
and thief, but Dumoise trusted every
thing to him.
On his way back from Chin, Dumoise
turned aside to Bagi, through the Forest
Reserve which is on the spur of Mount
Huttoo. Some men who have travelled
more than little say that the march
from Kotegarh to Bagi is one of the finest
in creation. 1t runs through dark wet
forest, and ends suddenly in bleak, nip
ped hill side and black rocks. Bagi dak-
bungalow is open to all winds and is Bit
terly cold. Few people go to Bagi
Perhaps that was the reason why Du-
noise went there. He halted at in the
evening, and his bearer went down the
hill side to the village to engage coolies
| for the next days march. The sun had
set, and the night winds were beginning
to Groom among the rocks. Dumoise
leaned on the railing of the veranda,
waiting for his bearer to return. The
man came back almost Immediately af-
ter he had disappeared, and at such q
rate that Dumoise fancied he must have
crossed bear. He was running as hard
as he could up the face Of the hill.
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