hat is the end, Ganesh, for thee, and for
Bhairon--Bhairon of the Common People."

"It is very far away," grunted Bhairon. "Also, it is a lie."

"Many women have kissed Krishna. They told him this to cheer their own
hearts when the grey hairs came, and he has told us the tale," said the
Bull, below his breath.

"Their Gods came, and we changed them. I took the Woman and made her
twelve-armed. So shall we twist all their Gods," said Hanuman.

"Their Gods! This is no question of their Gods--one or three--man or
woman. The matter is with the people. They move, and not the Gods of the
bridgebuilders," said Krishna.

"So be it. I have made a man worship the fire-carriage as it stood still
breathing smoke, and he knew not that he worshipped me," said Hanuman
the Ape. "They will only change a little the names of their Gods.
I shall lead the builders of the bridges as of old; Shiv shall be
worshipped in the schools by such as doubt and despise their fellows;
Ganesh shall have his mahajuns, and Bhairon the donkey-drivers, the
pilgrims, and the sellers of toys. Beloved, they will do no more than
change the names, and that we have seen a thousand times."

"Surely they will do no more than change the names," echoed Ganesh; but
there was an uneasy movement among the Gods.

"They will change more than the names. Me alone they cannot kill, so
long as a maiden and a man meet together or the spring follows the
winter rains. Heavenly Ones, not for nothing have I walked upon the
earth. My people know not now what they know; but I, who live with
them, I read their hearts. Great Kings, the beginning of the end is born
already. The fire-carriages shout the names of new Gods that are not the
old under new names. Drink now and eat greatly! Bathe your faces in the
smoke of the altars before they grow cold! Take dues and listen to the
cymbals and the drums, Heavenly Ones, while yet there are flowers and
songs. As men count time the end is far off; but as we who know reckon
it is today. I have spoken."

The young God ceased, and his brethren looked at each other long in
silence.

"This I have not heard before," Peroo whispered in his companion's ear.
"And yet sometimes, when I oiled the brasses in the engine-room of the
Goorkha, I have wondered if our priests were so wise--so wise. The day
is coming, Sahib. They will be gone by the morning."

A yellow light broadened in the sky, and the tone of the river changed
as the darkness withdr