As Ketan and Pravin reached the spot they found Faster Fenay bending over a pale face. Banesh turned to them and cried, ?It?s no ghost! It?s old Shamaldas!??Mane maaf karjo! Forgive me!? Shamaldas was saying in his most appealing tone. A small oil lamp, emitting more smoke than light, lit the inside of his hut, where they?d carried him. ?And please take this trinket of yours,? he went on. ?I only took it out of mischief, because it was lying in the window. I was going to give it to Ketanbhai tomorrow.?

?Aren?t you ashamed??

?I do feel ashamed now. But I?m not a thief, I tell you!?

?Not a thief? What are you then? A ghost??

?Sort of, sir! A man in ghost?s makeup. I?m by nature a playful chap ? a merry old mischief monger.

?Two years back I retired from a circus. I had no family ties. But I had a small ancestral piece of land in Amberkatha. So I came here and built this house and started a bit of farming on my own. But how slowly the time passed. No excitement. No laughing crowds. I was bored. Then I saw the scarecrow in the neighbouring farm and thought to myself ? why couldn?t I go on with my circus work? Not for money, but for my own amusement.?

?What exactly did you do in the circus, Shamal-kaka??

?I was a stiltwalker. A giant! It needs great skill and practice to walk on bamboos, you know. I thought I could be a private stiltwalker in Amberkatha.?

?How did you do it, without anyone knowing?? asked Banesh.

?I worked at night. I chose a couple of strong stout bamboos fifteen feet long and fixed wooden supports about two-and-a-half feet from the top. The rest was in me ? the experience and the skill ? and my old luminous circus clothes! When night came on, I did my stiltwalking over the wasteland. My spirits rose with my artificial height. I felt like a king! From then on, I used to roam the wasteland.?

?So that?s how the legend of the ghost came about,? exclaimed Pravin.

?You looked like a real ghost, Shamalkaka, if ever there was one!? said Banesh. ?What a fantastic idea!?

?But you must admit it was wrong of him to play with the emotions of the ignorant people of Amberkatha,? put in Ketan. ?A timid person could have died of fright.?

?I?m really sorry about it all now,? said Shamaldas, as with trembling hands he lighted his clay pipe. There was a pause. ?Of course, if any of you?d like to learn stiltwalking...?

Pravin and Faster Fenay exchanged grins.

New story next week

B.R. Bhagwat’s short story, Faster Fenay Lays a Ghost, translated from Marathi by the author, first appeared in the children’s magazine Target, edited by Rosalind Wilson. It was later published in the short story collection, The Carpenter’s Apprentice, by Katha, a Delhi-based non-profit organisation and publishing house