Jadob sat back in his chair after Korok had left. That boy had an interesting mind. Hardworking too, spent the whole day in the sun in his garden. And now he had thought of voting for the mine. Who would have come up with an idea like that? It was a pity that Korok had never had a proper education, and probably never would.

It was also a pity, thought Jadob, that the mine was decided by some distant government official, instead of being decided by voting. Why could the villagers not decide whether they wanted the mine or not? Why could they not be allowed to choose? After all, it was their home, their farms, their goddess.

Jadob sat up with a start. What if it could work? What if the villagers asked the government to allow them to vote on the mine? Even better, what if the villagers went to a court and asked for the right to vote? It was true that, as far as Jadob knew, this kind of thing did not usually happen. But surely there was no harm in asking a court? And what was the worst thing that could happen? The Gonds were already being called all sorts of things by the TV channels and newspapers.

As Korok walked slowly out of the village, he heard a shout. Jadob was running towards him. He caught up with Korok and began dragging him along by the hand, towards the main road.

Jadob was muttering to himself as they walked very rapidly towards Deogan. Halfway down the bridge, Jadob stopped and stared at the sacred hill. And smiled. Then he looked at Korok.

‘We’re going to meet the mahji,’ Jadob said.

They walked into Deogan, going past the four policemen who had been posted at the village entrance ever since the elders had been arrested. The policemen were there, Patnaik had told newspaper reporters, to keep an eye on the ‘suspects’, and to see if any Maoists turned up. Jadob said they had been posted in Deogan to spy on the Gonds.

The mahji was sitting against the wall of his house, in the backyard, looking at one of his cows tied up in the field nearby. He looked up as Jadob and Korok rushed in, breathless.

‘Mahji, are you awake?’

‘Yes, yes, Jadob. Come and sit here.’

‘Now listen. Our Korok here has a wonderful idea.’

Korok beamed once again and shuffled his feet. He was very embarrassed. The mahji’s wife came out.

‘Korok, have you eaten something?’ she said.

Everyone just wanted Korok to eat.

‘Mahji, listen. He says the villagers could vote about whether they want the mine or not. And whether they should stay here or leave.’

The mahji stared at Jadob and Korok. Then he started laughing.

‘Yes, yes, why not?’

‘Just listen, old man …’