DUST ON MOUNTAIN: COLLECTED STORIES - Plot & Excerpts
We had spent a rewarding but tiring day in the Terai forests near Haldwani, where I had been photographing swamp deer. On our return to the forest resthouse, Nathu had made a log fire near the front veranda, and we had gathered round it—Nathu, myself and Ghanshyam Singh, the chowkidar—discussing a suicide that had taken place in a neighbouring village. I forget the details of the suicide—it was connected with a disappointed bridegroom—but the discussion led to some interesting reminiscences on the part of Ghanshyam Singh. We had all agreed with Nathu’s sentiments about dead men, when Ghanshyam interrupted to say, ‘I don’t know about that, brother. At least one dead man brought considerable good fortune to a friend of mine.’ ‘How was that?’ I asked. ‘Well, about twenty years ago,’ said Ghanshyam Singh, ‘I was a policeman, one of the six constables at a small police post in the village of Ahirpur near the hills. A small stream ran past the village. Fed by springs, it contained a few feet of water even during the hottest of seasons, while after heavy rain it became a roaring torrent.
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