Then came such summer rains as had not been known in the Hills for many seasons . Through three good months the valley was wrapped in cloud and soaking mist -- steady , unrelenting downfall , breaking off into thunder-shower after thunder-shower . Kali 's Shrine stood above the clouds , for the most part , and there was a whole month in which the Bhagat never caught a glimpse of his village . It was packed away under a white floor of cloud that swayed and shifted and rolled on itself and bulged upward , but never broke from its piers -- the streaming flanks of the valley . All that time he heard nothing but the sound of a million little waters , overhead from the trees , and underfoot along the ground , soaking through the pine-needles , dripping from the tongues of draggled fern , and spouting in newly-torn muddy channels down the slopes . Then the sun came out , and drew forth the good incense of the deodars and the rhododendrons , and that far-off , clean smell which the Hill people call `` the smell of the snows . '' The hot sunshine lasted for a week , and then the rains gathered together for their last downpour , and the water fell in sheets that flayed off the skin of the ground and leaped back in mud . Purun Bhagat heaped his fire high that night , for he was sure his brothers would need warmth ; but never a beast came to the shrine , though he called and called till he dropped asleep , wondering what had happened in the woods . It was in the black heart of the night , the rain drumming like a thousand drums , that he was roused by a plucking at his blanket , and , stretching out , felt the little hand of a langur . `` It is better here than in the trees , '' he said sleepily , loosening a fold of blanket ; `` take it and be warm . '' The monkey caught his hand and pulled hard . `` Is it food , then ? '' said Purun Bhagat . `` Wait awhile , and I will prepare some . '' As he kneeled to throw fuel on the fire the langur ran to the door of the shrine , crooned and ran back again , plucking at the man 's knee . `` What is it ? What is thy trouble , Brother ? '' said Purun Bhagat , for the langur 's eyes were full of things that he could not tell . `` Unless one of thy caste be in a trap -- and none set traps here -- I will not go into that weather . Look , Brother , even the barasingh comes for shelter ! ''
The deer 's antlers clashed as he strode into the shrine , clashed against the grinning statue of XXXXX .
Bhagat Brother Hills Kali barasingh deodars month months rhododendrons thunder-shower