that troublesome Tarachunda River? Never, Never! No! And the pumps sobbed and panted:—"Never, never! Ho!" The Manager sat in the shelter of the pit-bank roofing, trying to dry himself by the pump-boiler fire, and, in the dreary dusk, he saw the crowds on the dam scatter and fly.
"That's the end," he groaned. "'Twill take us six weeks to persuade 'em that we haven't tried to drown their mates on purpose. Oh, for a decent, rational Geordie!"
But the flight had no panic in it. Men had run over from Five with astounding news, and the sirdars could not hold their gangs together. Presently, surrounded by a clamorous crew, Gangs Rahim, Mogul, and Janki, and ten basket-women, walked up to report themselves, and pretty little Unda stole away to Janki's hut to prepare his evening meal.
"Alone I found the way," explained Janki Meah, "and now will the Company give me pension?"
The simple pit-folk shouted and leaped and went back to the dam, reassured in their old belief that, whatever happened, so great was the power of the Company whose salt they ate, none of them could be killed. But Gur Sahai only bared his white teeth and kept his hand upon the lever and proved his pumps to the uttermost. •••••••••• "I say," said the Assistant to the Manager, a week later, "do you recollect Germinal?"
"Yes. 'Queer thing, I thought of it in the cage when that baulk went by. Why?"
"Oh, this business seems to be Germinal upside down. Janki was in my verandah all this morning, telling me that Kundoo had eloped with his wife—Unda or Anda, I think her name was."
"Hillo! And those were the cattle that you risked your life to clear out of Twenty-Two!"
"No—I was thinking of the Company's props, not the Company's men."
"Sounds better to say so now; but I don't believe you, old fellow."
