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GUNESH CHUND.

pains beyond the primal curse; and he, the father, driven by a restlessness new to him, had wandered out into the night to seek patience in action, It could not be over yet; his mother had said it would be long, and the jackals had not yet given their second cry. He turned again to the fields.

‘The land is good,” he murmured to himself, “the crop is good, and the rain is good. If only this be a son—”

He drew a long breath that was half a sigh, A stir in the thorn enclosures where the cattle were folded for the night caught his practised ear, and he walked towards them, listening. A feeble bleat followed by a patter of fect made him push aside the rude hurdle barring the entrance. Among the crowding sheep and goats the first lamb of the season lay beside its mother, and his eyes lit wp as he forced his way through the circle of uncertain elders to reach it. He was in luck to be there, else thefirst-fruits would have been dead by morning. He lifted the lamb gently, thinking the while that he must divide the flock ere another night, and so run no more risks. As he made his way back to the village with swinging strides the mother trotted after him, bleating, and the village dogs snuffed at his heels silently; they knew better than to bark at Gunesh Chund the head-man, tall and strong; looking all the taller by reason of his white turban and