188 



THE HIGHLANDS OF CENTRAL INDIA. 



Since our rice- field is demolished ? " 

 Answered Lingo " Lo a firstfruit 

 To the Gods of Rohees' livers, 

 Of the sixteen scores of Rohees 

 Liver firstfruits shall we offer. 

 On the perfume of the flowers 

 I, a devotee, can prosper ; 

 Ye are Gonds with hungry stomachs, 

 Wherewithal shall they be filled, 

 Now these sixteen scores of Rohees 

 All our rice-field have demolished ? " 

 Then the Brothers took their wea- 

 pons 

 Bows of bamboo from the mountains, 

 Shafts of bulrush from the marshes ; 

 And in wrath they sought the rice- 

 field, 

 Where the soil was black and naked, 

 Saw they nothing but the stubble 

 Of the rice that waved so greenly. 

 Then a flame of mighty anger, 

 From the heels of Lingo rising, 

 To his matted head ascended. 

 Reddened were his eyes like firebrands, 

 Bit his fingers till the blood came ; 

 Said he " Search ye for the footprints 

 Of these sixteen scores of Rohees." 

 Then the Brothers bent them down- 

 wards, 

 Searching closely for their traces, 

 Traces nowhere that appeared 

 Of the sixteen scores of Rohees. 

 Searched they long and found a foot- 

 mark, 

 Single footmarks scarce appearing, 

 Thence the jungle trodden down was 

 To the forest shades primeval. 

 East they followed on the traces, 

 But the sixteen scores they saw not. 

 Soon a Peepul tree appeared 

 Towering high above the forest ; 

 Clambered Lingo to its summit, 

 Looked he from it o'er the forest, 

 Spied the sixteen scores of Rohees, 

 Rohees in the shade reclining, 

 Rohees sleeping, Rohees frisking 



In the forest shade primeval. 

 Then said Lingo to the Brothers 

 ' ' Take .your bows and take your 



arrows ; 

 Quickly get ye round about them, 

 To the four sides of the Rohees. 

 Slay and spare not, smite the rascals ! 

 Hence my bolts I will deliver." 

 Then the Brothers stalked around 



them, 

 To the four sides of the Rohees ; 

 Thence their bulrush shafts delivered ; 

 Shot our Lingo from the Peepul. 

 Smitten were the herd of Rohees, 

 Only Maman, Uncle Maman, 

 And one little female Rohee, 

 Of those sixteen scores remained. 

 Then our Lingo aimed an arrow 

 At that Uncle, ancient Maman ; 

 But the arrow from his hand fell. 

 Thought he, surely here's an omen 

 That this veiy ancient Maman 

 Of our rice has nothing taken. 

 Then to run began the Rohee, 

 Female Rohee that remained; 

 And to run began the Uncle. 

 Brothers all behind them followed, 

 Shouting " Catch them " to each other. 

 But they vanished and were seen not. 

 And the Brothers, much disgusted, 

 Back returned to their Lingo. 



Then said Lingo, ' ' Search ye, 



Brethren, 

 For a firebox in your waistbelts." 

 Flints and steel they forthwith brought 



out, 

 Struck a spark among the tinder, 

 But the tinder would not burn. 

 Thus the whole night long they tried it, 

 Tried in vain until the morning, 

 When they flung away the tinder. 

 And to Lingo said, " Brother, 

 You're a prophet, can you tell us 

 Why we cannot light this tinder ? " 

 Answered Lingo, " Three coss onward 

 Lives the Giant Rikad Gowree, 



