g a middle course, they ran into
the camp of the one Government chaplain allowed to the various irregular
corps through a district of some fifteen thousand square miles, and
stood before him in a cloud of dust. He was by way of being a priest,
they knew, and, what was more to the point, a good sportsman who paid
his beaters generously.

When he read Chinn's note he laughed, which they deemed a lucky omen,
till he called up policemen, who tethered the ponies and the bullocks
by the piled house-gear, and laid stern hands upon three of that smiling
band of the thieves of Mahadeo. The chaplain himself addressed them
magisterially with a riding-whip. That was painful, but Jan Chinn
had prophesied it. They submitted, but would not give up the written
protection, fearing the jail. On their way back they met Mr. D. Fawne,
who had heard about the robberies, and was not pleased.

"Certainly," said the eldest of the gang, when the second interview was
at an end, "certainly Jan Chinn's protection has saved us our liberty,
but it is as though there were many beatings in one small piece of
paper. Put it away."

One climbed into a tree, and stuck the letter into a cleft forty feet
from the ground, where it could do no harm. Warmed, sore, but happy, the
ten returned to Jan Chinn next day, where he sat among uneasy Bhils, all
looking at their right arms, and all bound under terror of their god's
disfavour not to scratch.

"It was a good kowl," said the leader. "First the chaplain, who laughed,
took away our plunder, and beat three of us, as was promised. Next, we
meet Fawne Sahib, who frowned, and asked for the plunder. We spoke the
truth, and so he beat us all, one after another, and called us chosen
names. He then gave us these two bundles"--they set down a bottle of
whisky and a box of cheroots--"and we came away. The kowl is left in a
tree, because its virtue is that so soon as we show it to a Sahib we are
beaten."

"But for that kowl" said Jan Chinn, sternly, "ye would all have been
marching to jail with a policeman on either side. Ye come now to serve
as beaters for me. These people are unhappy, and we will go hunting till
they are well. To-night we will make a feast."

It is written in the chronicles of the Satpura Bhils, together with many
other matters not fit for print, that through five days, after the day
that he had put his mark upon them, Jan Chinn the First hunted for his
people; and on the five nights of those day