praise
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 but 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 bridgebuilders, 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?"