Head-nurse wept with angry tears; but Foster-father, always sensible,
said "Enough! cry on the camel if you will, but now is the time to slip
away before the obstinate animal can return."

There was wisdom in this; therefore Head-nurse composed herself
comfortably in one pannier while Foster-mother, who was lighter, settled
into the other with Baby Akbar. So off they set at the dignified lollop
which camels affect, and Head-nurse began to congratulate herself on
having successfully evaded the "uncouth beasts."

But there is no counting on cats. If they are here one moment and gone
the next, they are also gone one moment and here the next. So, as the
camel was passing under a thorn tree about half a mile out from camp, a
great fluff of white hair sprang from the branches and landed right in
Head-nurse's broad lap. And there was Mistress Down looking as if butter
wouldn't melt in her mouth, and purring away like a kettle on the boil.

Head-nurse gave in _altogether_ then. "When a cat really makes up its
mind," she said with forced wisdom, "it is little use any one else
making up theirs!"

So pussy sat in her lap, and after a while the warmth of the pretty
creature and even the very roughness of the small three-cornered red
tongue that licked her hand, as half-unconsciously she began to stroke
the long soft fur, made her say suddenly:

"Who knows but it is the Will of the Creator! This mean-born
thing may in the future be of use to the Light-of-the-World, the
Observed-of-all-Observers," etc., etc., etc.

And her words were to come true, for, as you will see by and bye, Down
was of great use to her little master. Nevertheless when, at the very
next camping ground, a great big black golliwog of a dog with a gnawed
end of rope still round his neck was seen calmly awaiting them at the
door of the tent that was pitched for their reception, Head-nurse became
tearful again and said that if Providence intended to send all the wild
beasts of the field to look after Baby Akbar, there was no need for her;
so she would give up her place.

But the little Prince himself was delighted. He plumped down on the hot
sand beside the dog and hugged it, calling it "Dear Tumbu," and when the
white cat jealously rubbed her back against his little fat person he
hugged her too and called her "Darling Down."

"Hark to the Lord-of-the-Universe giving his creatures names!" said
Foster-mother piously. So after that everybody called the golliwo