The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1899-03-31


not advisable that the men who once
get in here should escape. Only I. and
lam Brahman.
The prospect of escape had brought
Gunga Dass' caste back to him. He
stood up. walked about and gestieulated
violently. Eventually I managed to
make him talk soberly, and he told me
how this Englishman had spent six
months night after night in exploring,
inch by inch, the passage across the
quicksand; how he had declared it to
be simplicity itself up to within about
30 yards of the river bank after turning
the flank of the left horn of the horse
shoe. This much he had evidently not
completed when Gunga Dass shot him
with his own gun.
In my frenzy Of delight at the posi-
bilities of escape / recollect shaking
hands effusively with Gunga Dass after
we had decided that we were to make
an attempt to get away that very night.
1t was weary work waiting throughout
the afternoon.
About 10 o'clock, as far as I could
judge, when the moon had just risen
above the lip of the crater, Gunga Dass
made move for his burrow to bring
out the gun barrels whereby to measure
our path. All the other wretched in
habitants had retired to their lairs long
ago. The guardian boat drifted down
stream some hours before, and we were
utterly alone by the crow clump. Gunga
Dass, while carrying the gun barrels,
let slip the piece of paper which was to
be our guide. l stopped down hastily to
recover it, and as l did SO I was aware
that the diabolical Brahman was aim
ing violent blow at the back of my
head with the gun barrel 1t was too
late to turn round. must have received
the blow somewhere on the nape of my
neck. A hundred thousand fiery stars
DANCED before my eyes, and fell for
ward senseless at the edge of the quick
sand.
When l recovered consciousness, the
moon was going down. and was sensi-
bile of intolerable pain in the back of
my head. Gunga Dass had disappeared.
and my mouth was full of blood. 1 lay
down again and prayed that might
die without more ado Then the I'M
reasoning fury which have before
mentioned laid hold upon me, and I
staggered inland toward the walls of
the crater. 1t seemed that some one
was calling to me in a whisper. "Sahibl
Sahib! Sahibl" exactly as my bearer
used to call me in the mornings.
fancied that / was delirious until
handful of sand fell at my feet. Then I
looked up and saw a head peering down
into the amphitheater-the head of
Dunnoo, my dog boy. who attended to
my collies. As soon as he had attracted
my attention he held up his hand and
showed a rope. l motioned, staggering
to and fro the while, that he should
throw it down. 1t was couple of
leather punkah ropes knotted together,
with loop at one end. I slipped the
loop over my head and under my arms
heard Dunnoo urge something forward;
was conscio-s that l was being drag
ged. face downward. up the steep sand
slope. and the next instant found my
self, cholked and half fainting, on the
sand hills overlooking the crater Dun
moo, with his face ashy gray in the
moonlight. implored me not to stay.
but to get back to my tent at once
1t seems that he had tracked Pornic's
footprints ID miles across the sands to
the crater: had returned and told my
servants, WHO fatty refused to meddle
with any one. white or black. once
fallen into the hideous village of the
dead, whersupon Dunnoo had taken
one of my ponies and couple of punkah
ropes. returned to the crater and hauled
me out. as have described.
To cut a long story short. Dunnoo il
now my personal servant on gold
mohur a month, sum which 1 still
think far too little for the services he
has rendered. Nothing on earth will in
duce me to go near that devilish spo t
again or to reveal it's whereabouts MOI :,
clearly than have done. OF Gunga
Dass have never found a trace, nor do
wish to do So My sole motive in Civ
ing this to be published is the hope that
some one may possibly identify, from
the details and the inventory which /
have given above. the corpse of the
man in the olive green hunting suit.
BritOns Unable to Speak English.
1t is not generally realized what a
large number of Britons. born and bred
at home. have never succeeded in mas