—the men who believe that their God is toil. I run before them beckoning, and they follow Hanuman."
"Give them the toil that they desire, then," said the River. " Make a bar across my flood and throw the water back upon the bridge. Once thou wast strong in Lanka, Hanuman. Stoop and lift my bed."
"Who gives life can take life." The Ape scratched in the mud with a long forefinger. " And yet, who would profit by the killing? Very many would die."
There came up from the water a snatch of a love-song such as the boys sing when they watch their cattle in the noon heats of late spring. The Parrot screamed joyously, sidling along his branch with lowered head as the song grew louder, and in a patch of clear moonlight stood revealed the young herd, the darling of the Gopis, the idol of dreaming maids and of mothers ere their children are born—Krishna the Well-beloved. He stooped to knot up his long wet hair, and the parrot fluttered, to his shoulder.
"Fleeting and singing, and singing and fleeting," hiccupped Bhairon. "Those make thee late for the council, brother."
"And then?" said Krishna, with a laugh, throwing back his head. "Ye can do little without me or Karma, here." He fondled the Parrot's plumage and laughed again. " What is this sitting and talking together? I heard Mother Gunga roaring in the dark, and so came quickly from a hut where I lay warm. And what have ye done to Karma, that he is so wet and silent? And what does Mother Gunga here? Are the heavens full that ye must come paddling in the mud beast-wise? Karma, what do they do?"
[36]
