Sometimes a British gunboat would drop down here suddenly; but it
always wasted its time. The fishermen knew nothing; nothing in the way
of guns and powder ever was found; and yet the British Raj knew that
somewhere about lay the things for which it so diligently and
vigorously sought.
On the beach fishermen were disembarking. A sloop with a lateen sail
lay at anchor in the rude harbor. Some of the fishermen were repairing
nets, and some were tinkering about their fishing boats. Beyond the
beach nestled a few huts. Toward these other fishermen were making
progress.
The chief of the village--the head man--disembarked from this sloop.
He was met by his wife and child, and the little one clambered about
his legs in ecstasy. Among the huts stood one more imposing than the
others, and toward this the chief and his family wended their way. In
front of the hut stood an empty bullock cart. Attached to one of the
wheels was a frisking kid. The little child paused to play with her
pet.
Absorbed in her pastime, she did not observe the approach of a gaunt
being with matted hair and beard and ash-besmirched body. Children are
gifted with an instinct which leaves us as we grow older; the sensing
of evil without seeing or understanding it. The child suddenly gazed
up, to meet a pair of eyes black and fierce as a kite's. She rose
screaming and fled toward the house.
The holy man shrugged and waited.
When the parents rushed out to learn what had frightened their little
one they were solemnly confronted by Umballa.
"I am hungry."
The chief salaamed and ordered his wife to bring the holy man rice and
milk.
"Thou art an honest man?" said Umballa.
"It is said," replied the chief gravely.
"Thou art poor?"
"That is with the gods I serve."
"But thou art not without ambition?"
"Who is?" The chief's wonder grew. What meant these peculiar
sentences?
"Wouldst put thy hand into gold as far as the wrist and take what thou
couldst hold?"
"Yee, holy one; for I am human. Whither leads these questions? What
is it you would of me?"
"There are some who need to be far away to see things. Well, good man,
there is a treasure under your feet," falling into the vernacular.
The chief could not resist looking down at the ground, startled.
"Nay," smiled Umballa, "not there. Think; did not something unusual
happen here five years ago?"
The chief smoothed the tip of his nose. "My father died and I became
head man of the village."
"Would you call that unusual?" ironically.
"No. Ha!" suddenly. "Five years ago; yes, yes, I remember now.
Soldiers, who made us lock ourselves in our huts, not to stir forth on
the pain of death till ordered. My father alone was permitted outside.
He was compelled to row out to the island. There he was blindfolded.
Only two men accompanied him. They carried something that was very
heavy. My father never knew what the strange shining basket held.
Then the soldiers went away and we came out. No one was allowed on the
island till my father died."