On the world's roof

Contents

CHAP. PAGE

I. THE START FOR THE HEIGHTS . , , I

II. A TIMELY RESCUE 1 5

Chapter I

When Kent Stannard returned to India from England, where he had been at school ever since his eighth year, he found his father full of an enterprise that at once enlisted his keenest interest.

Kent was a typical English boy in mental as well as physical characteristics. Somewhat above the usual stature for his age, now sixteen years, he had the light curly hair, blue eyes, clear skin, and regular features that bespoke the Anglo-Saxon. His well-proportioned frame had been thoroughly developed by a long course of cricket, football, rowing, and other athletic exercises ; and his mind richly stored with knowledge,' for he was one who put his heart into his studies no less than into his sports. Among the trophies he brought back with him, to proudly show his father, were as many

A prizes for high standing in his classes as for prowess in the field or on the river.

In common with other sturdy boys he cherished a keen craving for adventure, and when his father, after the first raptures of their reunion were over, in a burst of confidence not usual with him, but due no doubt to the excitement of the occasion, let out something about what he contemplated doing, Kent at once exclaimed, “ What a grand idea ! You’ll take me with you, of course ? ”

At first Mr. Stannard seemed doubtful. He had not fully made up his mind to have his boy accompany him, for there were sure to be great hardships and no small danger involved in the undertaking; and as he looked at him now, presenting a perfect picture of boyish vigour, it seemed as if, perhaps, he ought not to be exposed to such trials and perils.

But Kent was not to be gainsaid. He had carried away with him to his English school a lively sense of the romantic side of life in India, which had been nurtured by his father’s letters and his own reading, so that he returned to the country full of determination to have all the sport and excitement possible before settling down to the serious business of life.

His father’s project promised him precisely what he desired, and he was glad that Mr. Stannard had waited until his return before carrying it out.

As a matter of fact this was due more to the force of circumstances than to any tliought of Kent in the matter. Mr. Stannard, who held a high position in the Forestry Department of the Indian Service, and whose duties often brought him to the foot of the Himalayan Mountains, had for some years past been planning a trip into the mysterious regions on the other side of that mightiest of earthly barriers. Again and again, from one cause and another, he had been compelled to postpone his purpose, but he never gave it up; and now at last the way was clear — a long furlough had been granted him by the Department, his own private affairs could be left to themselves for a while, and only one difficulty stood in his way.

This was Kent himself, for when he had written for him to come home from school he had not known that the chance to carry out his longcherished design would come so soon ; otherwise he would have delayed his son’s return for another year. To Kent, however, this falling out of events seemed quite providential.

“Why, father,” he argued, as they talked together, “ what could be more proper than that you should take me along ? You’ll have nobody else with you except your servants, and you’ll soon get tired of their company; and then, if anything were to happen to you, who’d look aftej you, I’d like to know ? ”

Mr. Stannard’s counteiiaiice, which had been furrowed with serious thoughts, relaxed into a smile of indulgent pride.

“ And do you think, Kent,” he asked, “ that you would be equal to tMking care of me if I should fall sick, or break my leg, or something equally foolish ? ”

Straightening himself up, Kent gave his father a look of warm affection as he responded with great vigour, “ I could do my best any way, father, and that would be a good deal better for you than being alone, wouldn’t it ? ”

“ To be sure, Kent ; to be sure,” returned Mr. Stannard. ‘‘ I’ll have to think it over, and see if I can arrange to have you go with me.”

Satisfied with this, for he felt no doubt as to the final issue of his father’s deliberations in the matter, Kent said nothing more, and went out for a ride upon his pony.

Mr. Stannard and his son were practically alone in the world ; for, although they had some relatives in England, there was but little communication with them, and they had only themselves to look to in India. While this rendered it easy in one way for them to make the venture together that Mr. Stannard had in mind, in another way it created an obstacle; for if any catastrophe should befall them entailing the loss of both their lives, it would mean the extinction of theij branch of the family.

a possibility which Mr. Stannard shrank from contemplating. There were, then, many things to be considered before a conclusion could be reached and it was not until the next day that Mr. Stannard announced his decision.

“ I’ve thought it all over thoroughly, Kent,” said he. “ As to your going or remaining here, there’s much to be said on both sides. For some reasons I would prefer your staying behind. But, on the other hand, your heart is set on going, and I’m free to confess your company will be a great comfort, and so I’ve decided to ”

“ To take me along — hurrah ! ” shouted Kent, finishing the sentence for his father, and at the same time throwing his arms about his neck in the exuberance of his joy. “ You’re a dear, kind pater, so you are, and I'll be the best boy you ever knew, all the time; you see if I’m not.”

Mr. Stannard returned the embrace, saying with a laugh, “It’s easy promising, Kent, isn’t it, when you have just been allowed to have your own way. We’ll see what your fine words are worth when they’re a month old.”

And so the matter was settled, and the wide boundaries of India did not contain a happier boy than Kent Stannard, whose first impulse, naturally, was to rush out and tell the good news to the rest of the world.

Having abundant time at his command, Mr. Stannard thought it a good opportunity to let his son see something of the wonderful country of which he knew but little; and so the journey from Bombay to the foot of the mountains was made in a very leisurely fashion.

It was in the middle of the month of March when they set out, the railway train bearing them swiftly along in artificially cooled carriages that enabled them to be comfortable in spite of the blinding sunlight and the golden dust of the Indian plain. Halts of a day or two were made at Nasik, a city so holy in the estimation of the Hindoos that the mere mention of the name with due reverence is supposed to effect the forgiveness of sins, and at Nandgaum, where a visit was made to the wonderful rock - temples and sculptured caves of Ellora.

But neither of these places made so deep an impression upon Kent as Jubbulpore, or rather the famous Marble Rocks, ten miles from that city. They drove thither in a comfortable horse -carriage that was a pleasant change after the monotony of the train, and put up at the beautifully situated government bungalow, where an aged but active khansamah prepared for them a remarkably good dinner.

The visit to the Marble Rocks was made at

(lawn, while the moon, then in full glory, still held her place in the sky, and the scene was one of surpassing beauty. The Nurbudda Eiver, after being pent up in a narrow chasm and plunging madly over a lofty ledge, flowed quietly through a canon enclosed by cliffs of snowy marble.

Mr. Stannard and Kent went up in a boat, and so still was it at that early hour that only the soft splash of the paddles broke the silence. The marble walls on which the moon shone, sparkling like silver under her rays, reflected so brilliant a radiance as almost to break the gloom of the opposite side, that was deep in shadow, and here and there shafts of dazzling light brightened the bosom of the stream, otherwise as black as ink. As the boat glided by a cleft in the rocks one of the boatmen sent a thrill through his passengers by indicating the spot as the favourite drinking-place of a man-eating tiger that had been levying its awful toll of human life upon the neighbourhood.

“ Is there any chance of our seeing him ? ” asked Kent eagerly. “ I’d so like to see a real wild tiger with my own eyes.”

“ But suppose he saw you, and took it into his head to make his breakfast of you ? ” suggested Mr. Stannard, with a smile.

“Oh, there’s no fear of that,” responded Kent f^aily. “ So long as we stayed in the boat we’d be all right. He’d never dare to swim out after us, no matter how hungry he was.”

He had hardly spoken when the boatman in the bow suddenly gave a cry of terror and slirank down in the bottom of the boat as if to dodge some missile.

By a common impulse the others looked at once in the same direction, and there, seen plainly in the moonlight on the very edge of the river, was an enormous tiger whose stripes showed black and white in the silver radiance.

The boat was not more than twenty yards from the shore, and the terrible creature seemed so near that at first even Mr. Stannard was paralysed with panic. But it was only for an instant. Grasping his rifle, which lay beside him, and preparing to fire if the tiger showed the slightest sign of springing after them, he commanded the boatmen to paddle for their lives.

At the sound of his voice the tiger, who had up to that moment seemed unconscious of their proximity, lifted his huge head from the water he had been vigorously lapping and gave an ominous growl that sent a shiver through all Kent’s frame.

“ 0 father, he’s coming after us ! ” he cried in a terror-stricken tone, making the light boat rock by a sudden movement towards the stern, where his father sat.

THE STAET FOR THE HEIGHTS 9

“ Keep still and be quiet, Kent ! ” commanded Mr. Stannard sternly, without taking his eyes off the tiger.

By this time the boatmen had recovered their self-possession sufficiently to ply the paddles strenuously, and the distance between the man-eater and the boat rapidly increased.

Still growling fiercely and switching his tail from side to side, the tiger kept his baneful eyes fastened on the boat, yet made no effort to follow it, and in a few moments more it was completely beyond his reach. Not until then did Mr. Stannard lower his rifle. He had not pulled the trigger, although he was an excellent marksman, because he feared the consequence of inflicting a wound that would infuriate the fierce creature without instantly rendering it powerless for harm.

But his motive was misunderstood by Kent, who, as soon as his first fright had passed, said reproachfully—

“ Why didn’t you shoot the brute, father ? You had such a splendid chance.”

“ Because you were with me, Kent,” replied Mr. Stannard gravely. “ Had I been alone I wouldn’t have hesitated a moment.”

Kent blushed, and said no more. For the first time he realised how much his presence added to his father’s care, and he registered a vow with himself to give him as little trouble as possible while the long journey before them continued. Propelled by vigorous paddling, the light boat went on to the end of the canon, wliere a brief halt was made to rest the boatmen.

As they set out to return, the sun rose in unclouded splendour, lighting up every nook and crevice of the chasm, which, although it lost the weird appearance it had borne in the moonshine, seemed even more extraordinary in the light of day. Glittering fish leaped from the glassy water in pursuit of the brilliant dragon-flies that skimmed rashly near the surface; monkeys of all ages and sizes scrambled about the rocky banks, disturbing the morning silence with volleys of simian billingsgate to show how hotly they resented the intrusion of “ humans ” upon their domain ; while on the ledges above them peacocks spread their splendid tails, and called attention to their beauty by their harsh, piercing cries, that seemed so strangely out of character.

Kent, who carried his own rifle, a particularly fine one he had got in London before leaving England, was just about to take a shot at one of the peacocks, when the boatman nearest him laid a restraining hand upon his arm, saying in an earnest, entreating voice —

“ Young sahib not shoot ! It make the bees mad.’

THE START FOR THE HEIGHTS I I

“Make the bees mad — and what harm if it does?” demanded Kent somewhat angrily, throwing off the brown hand from his arm.

Mr. Stannard, who had not visited the Marble Eocks before, was puzzled on his part by the Hindoo’s action.

“ What do you mean ?” he inquired. “ Why is it dangerous to fire ? ”

The Hindoo’s expression was a curious blending of humility and determination as he hastened to explain as best he could, in his broken way, that the big bees’-nests which could be seen hanging here and there against the cliffs were the homes of a very large and ferocious kind of bee, whose sting was almost as poisonous as a snake-bite, and which, if aroused, would pursue them with relentless fury.

When the boat had passed down beyond all the nests, the boatman, evidently much easier in his mind, told of how two sahibs out on a hunting expedition, and not aware of the dreadful character of the bees, had, in firing at a peacock, unfortunately chanced to hit one of the nests. Instantly the bees flew out and swarmed to the attack of the Englishmen, one of whom was so badly stung that he died, while the other only saved his life by leaping into the water and diving constantly until he had shaken off his merciless assailants.

The hearing of this sad incident impressed Kent deeply. It seemed such a dreadful way for a man to die— stung to death by bees.

“ The poor fellow,” he murmured. “ I suppose he could not swim, or he would have jumped into the water too.”

From Jubbulpore the travellers went on to Allahabad, the city famous as the point at which the awful tide of mutiny was stemmed and the Indian Empire saved, and thence to Agra, where, of course, they did not fail to spend many hours admiring the Taj Mahal, the Dewan-i-Khas, the Moti Musjid, and other marvellous structures which seem more like the fabulous palaces of the “ Arabian Nights ” relations than the actual work of human hands. Kent, who had a markedly artistic temperament, took great delight in these miracles of architecture, and his father was fain to delay their departure in order that they might make yet one more visit to them.

The evening they spent at the Taj Mahal, when the moon shone in all her glory, was an evermemorable one ; and they would both have been glad to linger longer in a city so rich in splendid spectacles, but it was necessary to push on that they might reach the foot of the mountain before the beginning of summer. For this reason they made no further halt of any duration until they reached Dellii, where Kent again had the opportunity of feasting his eyes upon palaces and mosques of marvellous beauty.

For two days they gave themselves up to these splendid proofs of Mogul wealth and power, the Jama Masjid, in the heart of the city, and the wonderful Kutab Minar, ten miles to the south, claiming their special attention.

Of course Kent could not be content without ascending to the top of the latter ; but Mr. Stannard, having made the ascent on his own account more than once previously, and not feeling quite up to the mark that day, remained below. Up the dark winding staircase Kent made his way, starting ofi‘ at great speed, which soon, however, was reduced to a walk as the steepness of the climb told upon his legs and lungs.

Eeaching the top in due course, he shouted and waved his hat triumphantly to his father, who was sitting on a block of stone in a shady corner nearly two hundred and fifty feet below him, and who returned the salute by waving his handkerchief without making any attempt to shout back.

The view from Kent’s lofty stand - point was glorious beyond all description, and he lingered so long enjoying it that his father grew impatient. It was some time before he could attract Kent’s attention, but after much expenditure of breath and waving of arms he finally succeeded. Kent at once began the descent, whistling merrily, and feeling well satisfied with himself.

He had passed the highest balcony, from which he signalled to his father to let him know he was on his way down, and was about half-way between it and the next, when, in a dusky part of the staircase, he found his progress barred by a most repulsive-looking being, who opposed his passage with outspread arms and menacing mien.

CHAPTEE II

Now Kent hai his full share of British pluck. Indeed he was inclined to be brave to the verge of rashness ; but to meet such a dirty, half-naked, and wild-looking creature when alone on the dimly lighted interior of a tower full two hundred feet up in the air, was surely sufficient to try the nerve of a stout-hearted man, not to mention a boy scarce half through his teens.

“ What do you want ? Why are you standing in my way ? ” he demanded, with a tremor in his voice, of which he was himself conscious.

The mysterious being’s answer was only to brace himself still more firmly in the middle of the narrow passage, and to glare fiercely back as though Kent were his deadliest enemy. His attitude and expression were so suggestive of violent, if not indeed of murderous intent, that Kent broke out into a cry of “ Help ! help ! ” and sought to retrace his steps to the balcony he had just left, and from which he could appeal to his father for aid.

*5

But the fakir — for such was the character of his assailant — had no idea of permitting tliis. Stretching out a long, bony, sinewy arm, he caught Kent by the collar of his coat and roughly held him back, muttering something that was, of course, quite unintelligible to the terrified boy.

Frantic with fear, Kent struggled furiously, and even struck at the fakir’s arm, striving with all his might to break away, and shouting —

“ Let go of me ! What business have you to hold me like this ? ”

But the fakir, smiling sardonically at these vain efforts — for Kent, sturdy lad though he was, seemed a mere child in his powerful grasp — repeated his guttural words, whatever they meant, and evidently intended to hold on to Kent until he granted his request.

Kent would have been only too glad to do anything in his power could he have understood what was required of him, but no comprehension on his part being possible, he increased his struggles for liberty, and his cries for help. At length, finding his utmost strength unavailing, he resorted to strategy ; for, his first panic having passed away, he had in some measure recovered his mental balance. Ceasing all effort, he stood still, and looking the fakir hard in the face, asked of him in an indignant tone —

“ What do you want of me ? Wliy do you try to keep me here ? ”

The man, seeming taken aback at this action, let go of Kent, and again repeated the strange gibberish. This gave Kent the opportunity he had hoped for. Like a flash out went his right arm, and his tightly clenched fist caught the fakir in the bridge of the nose, at the same moment that his right foot received a sharp kick at the heel.

Utterly unprepared for such an attack, he went over like a nine-pin, and springing past him, Kent dashed down the steps at a break-neck speed, not stopping until he plunged plump into the arms of his father, who, growing uneasy at his delay, had come up part of the way in quest of him.

“ Hello! what’s the matter? Is there a tiger after you ? ” queried Mr. Stannard, seeing from his son’s face that he was not descending so recklessly for mere amusement.

“Hot a tiger, but a horrid man,” panted Kent. “ That is, if he’s picked himself up again.”

“ Why, what do you mean, my boy ? What man is chasing you ? There’s no one coming down behind you,” said Mr. Stannard, with puzzled expression, after listening for a momept.

Kent then proceeded to tell his story, at which his father first laughed, and then looked grave.

It was no doubt one of those so-called holy

B men that go about the country living upon their betters,” explained Mr. Stannard. “ He wanted a few annas from you, that was all, and was determined not to let you pass until you handed them over. But, although he went the wrong way about it, you shouldn’t have knocked him down all the same, and he can make things very nasty for us if he sees fit. We’d better get away from here as soon as possible.”

“ Well, I’m sure I don’t know what else I could have done,” exclaimed Kent, somewhat crestfallen at being reproved instead of applauded for his treatment of the fakir. “ The rascal wouldn’t let go of me, and I had no idea what mischief he was up to.”

“ I’m not blaming you a bit, my son,” responded Mr. Stannard. “ What you did was perfectly natural, but the dirty wretch will not be likely to take that view of it, and if he makes his grievance known to his own people there’ll be trouble for us.”

While they were talking they were hastening away from the Kutab Minar, Kent looking back every few steps to see if the fakir was following. But whether he had knocked the senses out of him for a time by banging his head against the stone walls, or gave him such a scare that he dare not show himself again, certain it was that they saw nothing more of him.

Leaving Delhi that same day, they continued on without further halt for siglit-seeiiig until they reached Simla, where some time would have to be spent in making the necessary preparations for the journey into the mountains. Arriving as they did late in April, they avoided the great confusion consequent upon the coming of the Viceroy, the Commander-in- Chief of the army, and the other high and mighty officials of the supreme Government, who always spend the hot summer months, that would be unendurable down on the burning plains, on the cool heights of the Himalayan hills. They were therefore able to secure comfortable quarters in a big bungalow, and Kent settled down for a good look at the awe-imposing powers upon whom rested the responsibility of the most important portion of England’s colonial empire.

Even to a boy who had no social ambitions to satisfy, no personal ends to serve, Simla could not fail to be full of interest, and being of a very observant and inquiring turn of mind, Kent found abundant diversion in the brilliant life eddying about him, while his father busied himself with getting ready for their expedition into the mountain regions beyond.

A favourite amusement with him was riding one of the spirited little horses that were to be had for hire up and down the steep hill roads. They were

ON THE WOELD’S EOOF usually polo ponies which had played their parts at that exciting and exhausting sport, and been sold by their owners to native livery-stables for whatever price they would bring. One delicious evening, while Kent was trotting along over a beautiful bit of road a couple of miles from the tower, enjoying the pleasant gait of his pony and admiring the lovely landscape, that seemed to improve with every turn of the winding way, he overtook a lady out for her day’s ride, accompanied only by a native groom. Slie was mounted upon a grey Arab mare, that pulled at the bit and pranced about on the road in a way that betrayed a very high-strung and nervous nature.

Kent, who had a pretty good knowledge of horses for a boy of his age, having spent his holidays with an uncle who kept a hunting-stable, was greatly taken with the lady’s mount.

“ What a little beauty ! ” he exclaimed to himself, “ and how well she sits her ! But it seems to me she’d have a hard job stopping her if once she got the bit in her teeth. That duffer of a groom wouldn’t count for much then ; ” and he gave a contemptuous glance back at the groom, who was pounding along on a big “ waler ” that had evidently seen its best days some time ago.

As he passed he saw that the lady was both young and pretty, and quickly made up his mind

A TIMELY KESCUB that she was the wife of some officer, summerin" at Simla, while her husband sweltered at his dreary post down on tlie plains.

“ I wish I knew her,” he murmured regretfully. “ I’d like to challenge her to a little brush when we come to a straight bit of road.”

He said this because he happened to be mounted upon a pony that had shown quite a turn of speed, and to have tried conclusions with the cleverlooking Arab would have been just the thing to suit him that fine, cool evening. But, of course, he could not, under the circumstances, venture to propose such a thing; although it seemed to him, as he clattered by, and the curveting Arab showed signs of objection to being passed, his fair rider shot a bright glance at him that had a spark of challenge in it.

He had gone on about a furlong, and had just decided to turn around to retrace his way, when the sharp rattle of hoofs beating hard and fast upon the rocky mountain road came to his ears, and looking back, he saw the grey Arab galloping towards him at the top of her speed, while her rider was evidently making a frantic but futile effort to rein her in.

“The little vixen’s bolted!” exclaimed Kent. “And such a place for a runaway ! I must do my best to stop her, or the dear knows what’ll happen.”

His own pony, hearing the rapid hoof - beats, showed signs of excitement also, and knowing that if the Arab once got a good start of him he might be unable to catch up in time to be of any service, Kent gave him the rein, and in a moment he too was off at a gallop, with the runaway clattering behind.

Having been over that part of the road before, Kent knew that, while it was good enough going for another half-mile or so, beyond that there were sharp turns and quick descents that could not fail to give trouble.

" If I don’t stop her soon,” he murmured, “ she stands a good chance of breaking her neck.”

Looking back, he saw that the flying Arab was rapidly overtaking him, for his pony was going at little more than half-speed, and his plan of action was promptly decided upon.

A moment more and the runaway was up to him, her rider still tugging frantically at the reins, though her ghastly face and wide, staring eyes betokened how extreme was her terror. Kent, hurriedly glancing over his shoulder, could see her lips move in appeal to him for help, although not a word was audible, and he nodded his head vigorously in response.

As the Arab rushed past he pressed his own pony to her head, and leaning forward, by great good fortune succeeded in getting a grip of the right rein in his left hand

Then began a struggle the like of which Kent had never taken part in before. Throwing himself back in his saddle, he strove to rein in the two galloping steeds simultaneously. Even had his own mount been entirely under control, this would have been no easy feat. But, as a matter of fact, the pony had caught the spirit of the Arab in some measure, and was disposed to keep right on, while the lady, w’ho seemed to be on the verge of fainting, let the rein go, and grasped the pommel of her saddle instead.