114
THE GRAVE OF THE HUNDRED HEAD
Head upon head distorted,
Clinched in a sightless grin,
Anger and pain and terror
Writ on the smoke-scorched skin.
Subadar Prag Tewarri
Set the head of the Boh
On the top of the mound in triumph
The head of his son below,
With the sword and the peacock-banner
That the world might behold and know.
Thus the samádh was perfect,
Thus was the lesson plain
Of the wrath of the First Shikaris—
The price of a white man slain;
And the men of the First Shikaris
Went back into camp again.
Then a silence came to the river,
A hush fell over the shore,
And Bohs that were brave departed,
And Sniders squibbed no more;
For the Burmans said
That a kullah's head
Must be paid for with heads five score.
