Flute Player – Short Story By Ruskin Bond

After a moment’s hesitation, Kamla slipped her feet out of her slippers, and crept cautiously down the slope till her feet were in the water. She went no further, but even so, some of the muddy water splashed on to her clean white skirt. What would she tell Grandmother? Her feet sank into the soft mud, and she gave a little squeal as the water reached her knees. It was with some difficulty that she got her feet out of the sticky mud.

Romi took her by the hand, and they went stumbling along the side of the channel while little fishes swam in and out of their legs, and a heron, one foot raised, waited until they had passed before snapping a fish out of the water. The little fish glistened in the sun before it disappeared down the heron’s throat.

Romi gave a sudden exclamation and came to a stop. Kamla held on to him for support.

‘What is it?’ she asked, a little nervously.

‘It’s a tortoise,’ said Romi. ‘Can you see it?’

He pointed to the bank of the canal, and there, lying quite still was a small tortoise. Romi scrambled up the bank and, before Kamla could stop him. had picked up the tortoise. As soon as he touched it, the animal’s head and legs disappeared into its shell. Romi turned it over, but from behind the breast – plate only the head and a spiky tail were visible.

‘Look!’ exclaimed Kamla, pointing to the ground where the tortoise had been lying. ‘What’s in the hole?’

They peered into the hole. It was about half a metre deep, and at the bottom were five or six white eggs, a little smaller than a hen’s eggs.

‘Put it back,’ said Kamla. ‘It was sitting on its eggs.’

Romi shrugged and dropped the tortoise back on its hole. It peeped out from behind its shell, saw the children were still present, and retreated into its shell again.

‘I must go,’ said Kamla. ‘It’s getting late. Granny will wonder where I have gone.’

They walked back to the mango tree, and washed their hands and feet in the cool clear water from the well; but only after Romi had assured Kamla that there weren’t any snakes in that well. He had been talking about an old discarded well on the far side of the village. Kamla told Romi she would take him to her house one day, but it would have to be next year, or perhaps the year after, when she came to India again.

‘Is it very far, where you are going>’ asked Romi.

‘Yes, England is across the seas. I have t go back to my parents. And my school is there, too. But I will take the plane from Delhi. have you ever been to Delhi?’

‘I have not been further than Jaipur,; said Romi. ‘What is England like? Are there canals to swim in?’