aise me. Shiv has said that the men of the schools do not forget;
Bhairon is content for his crowd of the Common People; and Hanuman
laughs."

"Surely I laugh," said the Ape. "My altars are few beside those of
Ganesh or Bhairon, but the fire-carriages bring me new worshippers
from beyond the Black Water--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?"

"Gunga has prayed for a vengeance on the bridge-builders, and Kali is
with her. Now she bids Hanuman whelm the bridge, that her honour may
be made great," cried the Parrot. "I waited here, knowing that thou
wouldst come O my master!"

"And the Heavenly Ones said nothing? Did Gunga and the Mother of
Sorrows out-talk them? Did none speak for my people?"

"Nay," said Ganesh, moving uneasily from foot to foot; "I said it was
but dirt at play, and why should we stamp it flat?"

"I was content to let them toil--well content," said Hanuman.

"What had I to do with Gunga's anger?"