CHAPTER XV

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_*A LITTLE SAVAGE.*_

As the search-party were descending the hills, the Thibetan peeped out from the water-shed. The sheen of her resplendent jewels caught Oliver's eye, so he sent his uncle's syce to persuade her to go with them to the Beebee Desborough, who knew her. She was mourning over her lost cows, which she feared some of the wandering robber tribes would drive away if they found them straying. They all wore necklets of red cloth, she said, which she had sewn with cowries in patterns.

Oliver was counting up his money, to see if he could buy her a cow, when one of the jogies declared he had seen them rush out from the jungle when they were beating the second koond. He was certain she would find them roaming amidst the bushes below the ruins. So on she went, for the vultures and kites were sweeping round and round in great disorder--a sure presage of the approach of the storm Tara Ghur had predicted. A gust of cold wind swept down from the highest peaks, driving before it a dark and whirling cloud, which covered the travellers with a thick pall of dust.

They groped their way, afraid to linger in the dangerous neighbourhood of the koonds, and still more afraid of losing each other.

Major Iffley rode about, looking up the stragglers; and making the men close round the dandy, they marched on. A brooding silence filled the air, only broken at intervals by the vulture's scream or the beat of retreating wings. Mr. Desborough parted the curtains of the dandy and felt about, to assure himself both children were safe. Carl waked with the darkness, and began to howl--the same wild howl which had frightened the old shikaree in the morning. He was not there now to point out its danger. But the Thibetan put her hand to her ear again and again as she listened. Was there an answer from the distant koond?

"Do you hear anything?" asked Oliver, as the first returning gleam of light showed them the gate of Mr. Desborough's compound. They had reached his home, and might have passed it unawares, so great was the darkness of the coming storm. The trees in his garden bent their proud heads, and swayed from side to side like jungle grass as the rain came down at last in a mighty torrent. There was just light enough to distinguish the white columns of the veranda through the open gate. There was a general rush to shelter, for in those brief moments the carriage drive had become a rushing river. The gleam of the lighted lamps in Mr. Desborough's hall cast a glow of welcome on the sodden curtains of the dandy. Mr. Desborough made his men carry it right through the folding doors, and set it down on the middle of the floor, whilst he carefully closed them behind it. Major Iffley had divined his intention, and was already shutting every other door which opened into the hall. Oliver and his uncle were both shut out, and groped their way to the dining-room window, where Bona was standing watching the storm.

"You here!" they both exclaimed in surprise, as she opened it to let them in.

"Why, yes," she hesitated. "I grew so impatient I came across to see if you had got home. Have you found anything?"

"Yes, yes!" they reiterated, as Mrs. Desborough herself appeared behind her.

"Where is Kathleen?" she asked, looking beyond the deputy--whom she failed to recognize in the gloom of the storm--to the dripping coolies. The men were crowding in the veranda, rubbing their wet feet and wringing the water from their calico garments.

In the hubble-bubble of the many tongues she failed to understand anything.

"Kathleen is all right," said Bona quickly. "I told you she was with her father."

"Calm your anxiety, my dear Mrs. Desborough," began the deputy, with a seriousness which he intended should prepare the way; but it only startled her.

"What does all this mean?" she asked, looking from one to the other.

"It means--well, it means--" and the deputy coughed to gain time.--"Just see, Oliver," he added aside.

"Bother it!" muttered the boy; "I can't open this door."

Bona hastened to his help; but they pushed against it in vain.

Mrs. Desborough, always apprehensive since Carl was lost, was growing desperate. "Where is Kathleen?" she reiterated.

"Call her," suggested the coughing deputy to his nephew.

"Kathleen!" shouted Oliver. "Do come to your mother."

"Are the doors all shut?" demanded Mr. Desborough in return.

"Yes, yes!" echoed a chorus of voices as Mr. Desborough walked in, carrying what seemed to his wife to be nothing but a big bundle of calico.

Kathleen flew to her side. Mrs. Desborough caught hold of her by both hands.

"Do not look at me, mamma; look at what we've found," said Kathleen excitedly.

"A child," continued Mr. Desborough, speaking as quietly as he could. "Come and look, my dear."

A flash of lightning lit up the darkened room for one brief moment, and left it blacker than before.

"Bring lights," said Mr. Desborough.

"Yes; and order in the roast-joint, for this poor lad has scarcely tasted food all day," put in Major Iffley, laying his hand on Oliver's shoulder. "Besides," he added in a low aside, "nothing will be so attractive to that young animal as the savoury smell of the roast. I speak advisedly."

"Let us have our dinner, my dear," said Mr. Desborough, turning to Mrs. Desborough as she bent over the bundle in his arms.

The lights quickly appeared, followed by the ayah with sponge, soap, and towel.

He took the sponge from her hand, and gently washed the queer little face that was hiding itself from the light under his arm. He turned Carl slowly round towards Mrs. Desborough. But no amount of dirt, no scars, no scratches, could hide the truth from his mother. She clasped him to her, exclaiming, "It is ours--our own--our Carl!"

"Can it be possible?" cried Bona.

"With God all things are possible," said the deputy reverently. How Kathleen listened! The servants were hurrying in with the steaming dishes of roast-meat, game and fowl. The cloth had been laid an hour ago, awaiting the return of the gentlemen. There was little to do, but they made that little long in their eagerness to catch sight of the lost and found. At last they were all dismissed, and the doors made fast.

"Now, Iffley," said Mr. Desborough; and they began to unwind the length of calico with which poor Carly had been fettered. Between them they got him at last into a clean pinafore of Horace's which the ayah had brought.

Then his mother took him on her lap; but how to hold him was the difficulty. He wriggled and twisted himself into all sorts of contortions. He had struck with shoes and socks, and would have none of them, and began his fearful howl once more.

"Quiet!" said Mr. Desborough, in a quick, decisive tone; and the noise was hushed in a moment. But the light was obviously painful to Carl. He put up his hands, flickering his fingers before his eyes.

"He will howl again," said the major, "if we all stand looking at him."

"Give him a bone," suggested Oliver, who was going in for a good feed, a little quicker and faster than etiquette allowed; but a day's starvation is no joke, and everybody told him to help himself, and he was just doing it.

Carl slid down from his mother's lap and sat under the table sucking his bone contentedly. Presently he gave a rough, hoarse cry that sounded very much like "More." It was his first attempt to speak. The wing of chicken on Kathleen's plate was in his other hand in a moment.

"We are getting on," said the major, looking down at the two small heads beneath the table, whilst the deputy was explaining to Mrs. Desborough where and how they had found her child. It was a never-to-be-forgotten hour: the storm was raging without, thankfulness and wonder reigned within.

Oliver grew eloquent as he described the amazing sagacity of Rattam's old hunter. It was happiness now to look back and see how slender was the thread on which the poor child's fate had depended, and how singularly it had been preserved in the midst of unheard-of perils. Mrs. Desborough's eyes were welling over as she thought of her long-lost darling, in the midst of the wild beasts in a trackless koond, yet fed and cherished! How?

By the mercy of our heavenly Father, as she truly said, in the fervour of her mother's love. But she did not see the way in which the wonderful escape had been brought about. She knew nothing of the double nature in the wolf; and they told her it was safe in Rattam's cage. That there was any danger yet for her child, from the very love of the wolves, never crossed her mind; how could it?

She had enough to think about. Her child was at her feet, but it had forgotten its home. She saw it, estranged and wild.

"Call him by his name," said Mr. Desborough. "Call him Carl every time you give him anything to eat, and he will remember his name; if not, he will soon learn it afresh. We must 'gentle' him, as the grooms say, my dear. Never fear; we shall bring him round."

Carl had taken the wing of the chicken Kathleen had brought him, and laid his other bone on the floor. Kathleen still sat on the carpet by his side, with a patience she had never shown to any one before. He had even rubbed his head against her shoulder, when the moongus, which had been asleep in one corner of the room, aroused, and seeing an inviting bone, stole up to it for a taste. Carl flew at it in savage fury, tearing and raging. The scuffle which ensued before the two were parted filled Mrs. Desborough with many fears for Horace, who was happily in bed and asleep before his brother was brought home. But to the surprise of every one present, when Mr. Desborough made his voice heard above the din of the combatants, Carl was silent in a moment, and dropped back on the floor in instantaneous obedience. After a little while he came creeping to his father's feet. Oh, it was piteous to see him so, and yet it was hopeful.

Kathleen, who was trembling all over, put her moongus out of the room, and ran back with her lap full of playthings. She had brought Carl's own old drum that he used to be so fond of, and his horse and cart, and a new steam-engine he had never seen. "Perhaps," she thought, "he may remember these. They were his favourites; and Racy always loves my engine." She set it running on the floor before Carl's feet. The major lifted up his corner of the tablecloth, that he might watch the proceedings. Carl gave one of his frog-like leaps, pounced on the swiftly-moving toy, and snapped it in two with a cry of delight.

"Never mind, dear," said Mrs. Desborough, turning to Kathleen.

"Mind, mamma!" repeated Kathleen desperately; "can I ever mind anything he does, when I know that all this happened because I meddled with the blind? You told me never to touch it, and all my crying would not undo the mischief. Carl is better than I am, mamma, for he has minded every word papa has spoken."

"This comforts me, Kathleen, more than anything else," answered her mother fondly. "Always to obey is the one great lesson for every child to learn, and it cannot be learned too early. It is the foundation-stone of all that is good in after life--a young child's safeguard and its shield. If you both are careful to obey, we shall soon bring Carly round, and all be happy again."

Kathleen hung her head in her self-reproachful shame. She did not see the joy in her mother's eyes; for there is no joy so dear to a mother's heart as the joy of seeing her children try to overcome their faults, and turn to all that is right and good.

No one else understood the whispered conversation; they were all intent on Carl. Oliver took up the drum and beat a jolly tune.

Suddenly Carl sprang up and listened. Yes, there was a tiny creeping sound. It was only the lizard from behind the picture-frame that hung over the sideboard coming out for its crumbs, which Kathleen gathered for it every day after dinner. It was a pretty rose-pink creature, with a sharply-pointed tail and bead-like eyes. It had grown so tame it ran between the plates, helping itself as it liked.

"Tic-tickee!" cried Carl, calling it by the Hindu name his ayah had taught him, and grabbing at it with both his hands.

Strange that he should remember the lizard, when everything else was forgotten! Had he played with the lizards in the forest? Oh, horror! he was going to eat it. Bona nearly screamed. In her heart she was almost as afraid of him as the Hindu servants, and was thankful when the deputy talked of going, for the storm was over.

"If you want us, Desborough," said Major Iffley, "we are not so very far away. But you will tame your young savage all the better when you are alone."

They were careful even in the moment of departure not to leave a door ajar, for fear little Carl should try to rush out.

"Come and look at him to-morrow," replied Mr. Desborough, "when a warm bath and his mother's scissors have had their turn."

"Leave the shoes and socks for a day or two--that is my advice," laughed the deputy as he rode away, splashing through the flood that still surrounded the compound.

The horse which had been found for Oliver was tired with its day's hard work, and would not keep pace with his uncle's and Bona's. As he lagged behind he heard a cow lowing in the moonlight. He thought of the Thibetan when he saw the horned head drinking at the stream which drained the road. He rode up to it, looking for the scarlet necklet she had described.

There it was, embroidered all over with tiny shells in a most fanciful pattern. Laughing heartily to think of so much ingenuity being wasted on a cow, he drove it before him into the gates of Runnangore, glad to have recovered one of the scattered herd for their luckless owner. He was sure that Mr. Desborough would look after her; but he meant to take her a new blanket all the same.

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