How did you
manage to get a Bhil vaccinated?"
"Well, sir," said Chinn, " I've been thinking it over, and, as far
as I can make out, I've got a sort of hereditary influence over 'em."
"So I know, or I wouldn't have sent you; but what, exactly?"
"It's rather rummy. It seems, from what I can make out, that I'm
my own grandfather reincarnated, and I've been disturbing the
peace of the country by riding a pad-tiger of nights. If I hadn't
done that, I don't think they'd have objected to the vaccination;
but the two together were more than they could stand. And so, sir,
I've vaccinated 'em, and shot my tiger-horse as a sort o' proof of
good faith. You never saw such a skin in your life."
The Colonel tugged his moustache thought-fully. "Now, how the
deuce," said he, "am I to include that in my report?"
Indeed, the official version of the Bhils' anti-vaccination
stampede said nothing about Lieutenant John Chinn, his godship.
But Bukta knew, and the corps knew, and every Bhil in the Satpura
hills knew.
And now Bukta is zealous that John Chinn shall swiftly be wedded
and impart his powers to a son; for if the Chinn succession fails,
and the little Bhils are left to their own imaginings, there will
be fresh trouble in the Satpuras.
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