narrowly missed a villager just before we came up. The Standing Army stood. It could do no more, for when it advanced pieces of sharp shale flew from the windows. To these were added from time to time showers of scalding water. We saw red heads bobbing up and down in the hut. The family of Namgay Doola were aiding their sire, and blood-curdling yells of defiance were the only answers to our prayers.
'Never,' said the King, puffing, 'has such a thing befallen my State. Next year I will certainly buy a little cannon.' He looked at me imploringly.
'Is there any priest in the Kingdom to whom he will listen?' said I, for a light was beginning to break upon me.
'He worships his own God,' said the Prime Minister. 'We can starve him out.'
'Let the white man approach,' said, Namgay Doola from within. 'All others I will kill. Send me the white man.'
The door was thrown open and I entered the smoky interior of a Thibetan hut crammed with children. And every child had flaming red hair. A raw cow's-tail lay on the floor, and by its side two pieces of black velvet—my black velvet—rudely hacked into the semblance of masks.
'And what is this shame, Namgay Doola?' said I.
He grinned more winningly than ever. 'There is no shame,' said he. 'I did but cut off the tail of that man's cow. He betrayed me. I was minded to shoot him, Sahib. But not to death. Indeed not to death. Only in the legs.'
'And why at all, since it is the custom to pay revenue to the King? Why at all?'
'By the God of my father I cannot tell,' said Namgay Doola.
