Vampires vs. Werewolves – Ultimate Collection. Редьярд Джозеф Киплинг
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cut off the hands of some, the feet and heads of others, whilst many they have crushed into shapeless masses, or scattered in pieces upon the ground. The field is strewed with corpses, the river runs red, so that the dogs and jackals swim in blood; the birds of prey sitting on the branches, drink man’s life from the stream, and enjoy the sickening smell of burnt flesh.
Such will be the scenes acted in the fair land of Bharat.
Perchance two white outcastes, father and son, who with a party of men are scouring the forest and slaying everything, fall upon the path which the women have taken shortly before. Their attention is attracted by footprints leading towards a place full of tigers, leopards, bears, wolves, and wild dogs. And they are utterly confounded when, after inspection, they discover the sex of the wanderers.
“How is it,” shall say the father, “that the footprints of mortals are seen in this part of the forest?”
The son shall reply, “Sir, these are the marks of women’s feet: a man’s foot would not be so small.”
“It is passing strange,” shall rejoin the elder white Pariah, “but thou speakest truth. Certainly such a soft and delicate foot cannot belong to anyone but a woman.”
“They have only just left the track,” shall continue the son, “and look! this is the step of a married woman. See how she treads on the inside of her sole, because of the bending of her ankles.” And the younger white outcaste shall point to the queen’s footprints.
“Come, let us search the forest for them,” shall cry the father, “what an opportunity of finding wives fortune has thrown in our hands. But no! thou art in error,” he shall continue, after examining the track pointed out by his son, “in supposing this to be the sign of a matron. Look at the other, it is much longer; the toes have scarcely touched the ground, whereas the marks of the heels are deep. Of a truth this must be the married woman.” And the elder white outcaste shall point to the footprints of the princess.
“Then,” shall reply the son, who admires the shorter foot, “let us first seek them, and when we find them, give to me her who has the short feet, and take the other to wife thyself.”
Having made this agreement they shall proceed on their way, and presently they shall find the women lying on the earth, half dead with fatigue and fear. Their legs and feet are scratched and torn by brambles, their ornaments have fallen off, and their garments are in strips. The two white outcastes find little difficulty, the first surprise over, in persuading the unhappy women to follow them home, and with great delight, conformably to their arrangement, each takes up his prize on his horse and rides back to the tents. The son takes the queen, and the father the princess.
In due time two marriages come to pass; the father, according to agreement, espouses the long foot, and the son takes to wife the short foot. And after the usual interval, the elder white outcaste, who had married the daughter, rejoices at the birth of a boy, and the younger white outcaste, who had married the mother, is gladdened by the sight of a girl.
Now then, by my feet and your head, O warrior king Vikram, answer me one question. What relationship will there be between the children of the two white Pariahs?
Vikram’s brow waxed black as a charcoal-burner’s, when he again heard the most irreverent oath ever proposed to mortal king. The question presently attracted his attention, and he turned over the Baital’s words in his head, confusing the ties of filiality, brotherhood, and relationship, and connection in general.
“Hem!” said the warrior king, at last perplexed, and remembering, in his perplexity, that he had better hold his tongue—“ahem!”
“I think your majesty spoke?” asked the Vampire, in an inquisitive and insinuating tone of voice.
“Hem!” ejaculated the monarch.
The Baital held his peace for a few minutes, coughing once or twice impatiently. He suspected that the extraordinary nature of this last tale, combined with the use of the future tense, had given rise to a taciturnity so unexpected in the warrior king. He therefore asked if Vikram the Brave would not like to hear another little anecdote.
This time the king did not even say “hem!” Having walked at an unusually rapid pace, he distinguished at a distance the fire kindled by the devotee, and he hurried towards it with an effort which left him no breath wherewith to speak, even had he been so inclined.
“Since your majesty is so completely dumbfoundered by it, perhaps this acute young prince may be able to answer my question?” insinuated the Baital, after a few minutes of anxious suspense.
But Dharma Dhwaj answered not a syllable.
CONCLUSION.
At Raja Vikram’s silence the Baital was greatly surprised, and he praised the royal courage and resolution to the skies. Still he did not give up the contest at once.
“Allow me, great king,” pursued the Demon, in a dry tone of voice, “to wish you joy. After so many failures you have at length succeeded in repressing your loquacity. I will not stop to enquire whether it was humility and self-restraint which prevented your answering my last question, or whether Rajait was mere ignorance and inability. Of course I suspect the latter, but to say the truth your condescension in at last taking a Vampire’s advice, flatters me so much, that I will not look too narrowly into cause or motive.”
Raja Vikram winced, but maintained a stubborn silence, squeezing his lips lest they should open involuntarily.
“Now, however, your majesty has mortified, we will suppose, a somewhat exacting vanity, I also will in my turn forego the pleasure which I had anticipated in seeing you a corpse and in entering your royal body for a short time, just to know how queer it must feel to be a king. And what is more, I will now perform my original promise, and you shall derive from me a benefit which none but myself can bestow. First, however, allow me to ask you, will you let me have a little more air?”
Dharma Dhwaj pulled his father’s sleeve, but this time Raja Vikram required no reminder: wild horses or the executioner’s saw, beginning at the shoulder, would not have drawn a word from him. Observing his obstinate silence, the Baital, with an ominous smile, continued:
“Now give ear, O warrior king, to what I am about to tell thee, and bear in mind the giant’s saying, ‘A man is justified in killing one who has a design to kill him.’ The young merchant Mal Deo, who placed such magnificent presents at your royal feet, and Shanta-Shil the devotee saint, who works his spells, incantations, and magical rites in a cemetery on the banks of the Godaveri river, are, as thou knowest, one person—the terrible Jogi, whose wrath your father aroused in his folly, and whose revenge your blood alone can satisfy. With regard to myself, the oilman’s son, the same Jogi, fearing lest I might interfere with his projects of universal dominion, slew me by the power of his penance, and has kept me suspended, a trap for you, head downwards from the sires-tree.
“That Jogi it was, you now know, who sent you to fetch me back to him on your back. And when you cast me at his feet he will return thanks to you and praise your valour, perseverance and resolution to the skies. I warn you to beware. He will lead you to the shrine of Durga, and when he has finished his adoration he will say to you, ‘O great king, salute my deity with the eight-limbed reverence.’ ”
Here the Vampire whispered for a time and in a low tone, lest some listening goblin might carry his words if spoken out loud to the ears of the devotee Shanta-Shil.
At the end of the monologue a rustling sound was heard. It proceeded from the Baital, who was disengaging himself from the dead body in the bundle, and the burden became sensibly lighter upon the monarch’s back.
The departing Baital, however, did not forget to bid farewell to the warrior king and to his son. He complimented the former for the last time, in his own way, upon the royal humility and the prodigious self-mortification which he had displayed—qualities,