Old and new and that which is gone out
of remembrance, all three are there! Sit on the bedstead, Sahib, and
drink milk. Or--would the Sahib in truth care to drink my tobacco? It
is good. It is the tobacco of Nuklao. My son, who is in service there,
sent it to me. Drink, then, Sahib, if you know how to handle the tube.
The Sahib takes it like a Musalman. Wah! Wah! Where did he learn that?
His own wedding! Ho! Ho! Ho! The Sahib says that there is no wedding
in the matter at all? Now _is_ it likely that the Sahib would speak
true talk to me who am only a black man? Small wonder, then, that he
is in haste. Thirty years have I beaten the gong at this ford, but
never have I seen a Sahib in such haste. Thirty years, Sahib! That is
a very long time. Thirty years ago this ford was on the track of the
_bunjaras,_ and I have seen two thousand pack-bullocks cross in one
night. Now the rail has come, and the fire-carriage says _buz-buz-buz,_
and a hundred lakhs of maunds slide across that big bridge. It is very
wonderful; but the ford is lonely now that there are no _bunjaras_
to camp under the trees.
Nay, do not trouble to look at the sky without.
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