Gunga Dass laughed again and made answer:--"They have the boat only in
daytime. It is for the reason that there is a way. I hope we shall have the
pleasure of your company for much longer time. It is a pleasant spot when you
have been here some years and eaten roast crow long enough."
I staggered, numbed and helpless, toward the fetid burrow allotted to me, and
fell asleep. An hour or so later I was awakened by a piercing scream--the
shrill, high-pitched scream of a horse in pain. Those who have once heard that
will never forget the sound. I found some little difficulty in scrambling out
of the burrow. When I was in the open, I saw Pornic, my poor old Pornic, lying
dead on the sandy soil. How they had killed him I cannot guess. Gunga Dass
explained that horse was better than crow, and "greatest good of greatest
number is political maxim. We are now Republic, Mister Jukes, and you are
entitled to a fair share of the beast. If you like, we will pass a vote of
thanks. Shall I propose?"
Yes, we were a Republic indeed! A Republic of wild beasts penned at the bottom
of a pit, to eat and fight and sleep till we died. I attempted no protest of
any kind, but sat down and stared at the hideous sight in front of me.
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