Stories of Bengalee Life/The Forest Child/Chapter 3
CHAPTER III
That day the sky was very clear. Khoka, being put in the perambulator, was taken out for an airing by the servant. It was now two, Giribala had repeatedly desired the servant to return not later than one o'clock. Three struck, and still no Khoka. At half-past three husband and wife were greatly alarmed. They were about to send a servant in search, when a letter came from the police office Daroga requesting Kumud Nath to attend at the police station on a special matter.
First the non-return of the child, and now this police summons, filled them with fear of misfortune. Kumud Babu went out at once. Giribala wandered restlessly about the house like a stricken deer. After a time she despatched Bisua to the police station, with orders if his master's return was not immediate, to come back and tell her what was going on.
When Kumud Babu reached the thana he found a great crowd there. In the verandah, Khoka, seated in the perambulator, was crying, a policeman standing on guard. His father took him in his arms and kissed him. Khoka, satisfied, became calm. The Daroga, with a salaam, said—"Babu, you have had one great trouble; now another has come about. A Lepcha woman tried to kill your child; your servant preventing her, she stabbed him with her knife."
"Where is my servant?"
"I've sent him to the Ripon Hospital."
"Will he live?"
"It is to be feared he will not. She would have killed the child also, but that Khoda Bux, the constable, caught her."
Kumud Babu was overwhelmed. He thought—"It must be the woman of last night." He asked—"Where is the prisoner?"
The Daroga took Kumud Babu to the cell. He saw that it was indeed she, the beautiful hill woman. Kumud Babu's thoughts were paralysed: he could not conceive why she should feel such enmity against him. He asked the Daroga—"Do you know why she tried to kill my child? Has she confessed anything?"
"She says she lost her child on Tara Devi hill, that you brought it away and killed it. So she has tried to get her revenge."
"I killed her child! I!"
"I have learned all from your servant's deposition. See, Babu, they are a terrible race; how can they understand that you out of goodness brought away the child to preserve its life? They think you brought it away to slaughter it, and that you did so."
Kumud Nath before this had sent Khoka home with Bisua. Now, after giving his own deposition, he went home, sending the perambulator by a coolie.
Giribala, weeping, said—"To-day my child is born again. In what evil hour did I bring him from home? Let us go back there—not another hour will I stay here."
The next day was cloudy. After rain there was a snowfall. What delight for Khoka! He wanted to put his hand through the shutters and touch the snow. It became very dark. Before four o'clock lamps had to be lighted. Kumud Babu said—"Let us dine early this evening." After playing all day, Khoka had fallen asleep. At six, Kumud Babu sat down to eat. Giribala lit a fire and then sat down by her husband, chatting with him. When he had finished he went out on to the circular verandah. Like a flash of lighting he saw a woman darting forth in front of him. It was the same person, that destructive Lepcha woman. A moment or two earlier, she had slain the warder and escaped from the cell.
For a moment, under the stress of excitement, Kumud Nath pursued her. Going below he saw Bisua lying with his throat cut, the floor covered with blood. The sight staggered him. His understanding became obscured. He reeled like a drunken man up the stairs.
Entering the sleeping room he saw Giribala rolling on the ground in an agony of weeping. That ogress had slain their child.
Outside in the cold dark evening, snow fell unceasingly.