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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, In Kali's Country, by Emily Churchill
+Thompson Sheets, Illustrated by Elma McNeal Childs
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: In Kali's Country
+       Tales from Sunny India
+
+
+Author: Emily Churchill Thompson Sheets
+
+
+
+Release Date: February 14, 2012  [eBook #38881]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN KALI'S COUNTRY***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Dave Hobart, Suzanne Shell, and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made
+available by Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries
+(http://www.archive.org/details/toronto)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 38881-h.htm or 38881-h.zip:
+      (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38881/38881-h/38881-h.htm)
+      or
+      (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/38881/38881-h.zip)
+
+
+      Images of the original pages are available through
+      Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries. See
+      http://www.archive.org/details/rsinkaliscountry00sheeuoft
+
+
+Transcriber's note:
+
+      Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
+
+      Text enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=).
+
+
+
+IN KALI'S COUNTRY
+
+[Illustration: Ox drawn wagon]
+
+[Illustration: "Mundra had been one of the happy bejewelled girls of
+this very town"]
+
+
+IN KALI'S COUNTRY
+
+Tales from Sunny India
+
+by
+
+EMILY T. SHEETS
+
+Illustrations from drawings by Elma McNeal Childs
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Publisher's logo]
+
+New York  Chicago  Toronto
+Fleming H. Revell Company
+London and Edinburgh
+
+Copyright, 1910, by
+Fleming H. Revell Company
+
+[Illustration: Onion domed gazebo hung with bells]
+
+New York: 158 Fifth Avenue
+Chicago: 80 Wabash Avenue
+Toronto: 25 Richmond Street, W.
+London: 21 Paternoster Square
+Edinburgh: 100 Princes Street
+
+
+
+
+_This book is dedicated to
+My Mother
+Jane Churchill Thompson
+and
+My Father
+William H. Thompson, Jr._
+
+[Illustration: Indian lady in doorway]
+
+
+
+
+Contents
+
+
+  I.    KALIGHAT                       9
+
+  II.   SHAMA SAHAI                   22
+
+  III.  OLD SARAH                     34
+
+  IV.   A SON OF THE LAW              53
+
+  V.    MUNDRA                        68
+
+  VI.   OF THE TRIBE OF HAUNAMON      78
+
+  VII.  IN WAYS MYSTERIOUS            96
+
+  VIII. THE WAY TO HAPPINESS         114
+
+  IX.   BACHELOR DREAMS              129
+
+  X.    THE COST                     142
+
+  XI.   AMONG THE CLOUDS             161
+
+  XII.  THE INFIDEL                  174
+
+[Illustration: Indian in turban]
+
+[Illustration: Gazebo]
+
+
+
+
+Illustrations
+
+
+  "Mundra had been one of the happy, bejewelled
+  girls of this very town"                    _Frontispiece_
+
+  "Shama Sahai was not happy"             _Facing page_   22
+
+  "It was only a glimpse"                    "     "      54
+
+  "For a few moments she managed to keep
+  up the straining movement"                 "     "      68
+
+  "I have a beautiful wife, as fair as your
+  own, Sahib"                                "     "      96
+
+  "The humblest of them frequently rises to
+  acts of great courage and chivalry"        "     "     112
+
+  "You are an American, aren't you?"         "     "     142
+
+  "Oh, Allah, Allah, hear the cry of the
+  faithful!"                                 "     "     174
+
+
+
+
+Glossary
+
+
+  Anna--Indian coin, value about two cents.
+
+  Ayah--a nurse.
+
+  Bearer--body servant or personal attendant.
+
+  Chapati--the common bread of India.
+
+  Charpoy--a cot-bed.
+
+  Chokidar--night watchman.
+
+  Chota hazri--light, early breakfast.
+
+  Dhersy--the Indian man who does the family sewing.
+
+  Durbar--official levee of an Indian prince or ruler.
+
+  Ekka--a two-wheeled, springless conveyance.
+
+  Gari or gharry--a four-wheeled, closed carriage.
+
+  Gariwala--driver of a gari.
+
+  Ghat--sacred stairway on river bank adjoining a temple.
+
+  Hookah--a water pipe.
+
+  Kusti--sacred girdle of the Parsis.
+
+  Memsahib--Indian name for European lady.
+
+  Pan or pawn--Indian substitute for chewing-gum or tobacco, made by
+         wrapping bits of nuts and lime in the leaves of the betel.
+
+  Pice--small Indian coin, value about one-half cent.
+
+  Punkah--a large screen-like fan swung from the ceiling.
+
+  Purdah--curtain hung for the seclusion of women. "In purdah"--in
+         seclusion.
+
+  Rupee--silver coin, value about thirty-three and one-third cents.
+
+  Sahib--Indian name for European gentleman.
+
+  Sari--a long piece of cloth constituting the principal garment of
+         the Indian woman.
+
+  Topi--a sola--a pith hat.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+Kalighat
+
+
+"The five years will be up to-morrow. When the sun rises next upon
+the festival of Kali I shall have completed my vow."
+
+Scarcely had the holy man been able to say his prayers or repeat his
+sacred texts the whole day long, for there had been constantly
+before his mind the knowledge that this was the last day of his
+self-imposed sacrifices and that the next day he would be free from
+all restraints to do--what? Over and over had the thought repeated
+itself in the man's mind until now, unconsciously, he had given
+utterance to it and the stout, sleek priest of Kali who chanced to
+be standing beside his shelter, looked down upon him in surprise.
+
+"What vow, most holy one?" he courteously inquired. "For many years
+thou hast sat here at the ghat, the most honoured and revered of all
+the holy men this side the temple of our Goddess Kali. Was this thy
+vow--to sit thus in ashes?"
+
+The fakir started at the priest's voice, for his own remarks had
+been unconscious, and, looking up at his interrogator, he seemed
+slowly to comprehend that he had spoken aloud and that the priest
+had heard his words.
+
+"Yes, Priest of Kali," he said, dropping his eyes and poking the
+little fire before him with his sacred tongs.
+
+"Perhaps you of the holy priesthood can answer a question for me,"
+he added slowly after a moment, without looking up.
+
+The fat, half-naked priest, not loath to take advantage of any
+opportunity to do nothing, especially when at the same time he was
+being religious by talking with a holy man, dropped lazily to the
+pavement beside the fakir's rude shelter of a bit of thatch on four
+poles and, waving for a hookah from the rest-house across the narrow
+street, settled himself to listen in comfort.
+
+But before the holy man propounded his question, for a few minutes
+he seemed to have forgotten about it. His keen, dark eyes, after
+turning thoughtfully from one side to the other of the small paved
+square in front of him, looked across the sluggish brown stream at
+the foot of the steps to the opposite bank where a few people were
+bathing in the water, and beyond to where were crowded close
+together the small mud houses of the native section of a great
+Indian city. While he gazed thus, the young priest took several
+puffs at the long pipe, leering lazily the while at two pretty girls
+who had come from the street into the square and, pausing before the
+fakir, timidly had placed a few pice on the dirty cloth spread out
+before him, but, seeing the leer of the priest, hastened to pull
+their saris over their faces and pass hurriedly down the steps to
+the sacred Ganges.
+
+The holy man had not noticed the girls, nor did he seem to see the
+rest of the crowd of people who walked back and forth through the
+little square, having come to throw flowers upon the river or to
+bathe in its waters or, having bathed, to lie down and rest in
+Indian fashion in the roofed verandas charitably provided by rich
+and merit-seeking Hindus. He did not seem to see any of them,
+although so many of them brought their offerings of fruit and pice
+to him that his begging cloth was almost overflowing. Nor did he
+notice the presence of an American tourist who had stepped into the
+square and who, with a Murray under one arm and an umbrella under
+the other, was endeavouring to keep an immense sola, topi, from
+falling over on his nose while he took a picture of the "freak"; for
+how else could a globe-trotting American classify a man who, naked
+all but for a small loin cloth, sat cross-legged upon a deer's
+skin, his long hair, matted with filth into ropes, wound in a
+scraggy knot upon his head and his body smeared with ashes from the
+small fire that burned before him, the marks of white upon his
+forehead, intelligible only to the Hindu, making his bearded face
+almost frightful.
+
+Nor did the fakir heed the naked children who trotted across the
+pavement at the heels of their mothers, going to perform the sacred
+rites at the river and to secure their children from all harm by a
+dip in its holy waters. The old woman, too, who, scarcely able to
+hobble along, had placed a little brass bowl of the dirty, foul
+water beside him (for the piece of water near Kali's temple is only
+a slip of the Ganges itself and is, therefore, particularly filthy)
+received not her usual blessing in return and sank down near by to
+wait until the holy man should notice her.
+
+"Yes, Priest of Kali," the holy one turned from his gazing, "I have
+a question that waits an answer. Listen to my story. I was once a
+wealthy man, trained in all the learning of Brahminism. I did only
+what our religion allowed; I did all that it required, in sacrifices
+to the gods, in presents to their priests, and even in pilgrimages.
+But I was wretched within. I had no peace." As he spoke he laid his
+hand upon his heart and his eyes were heavy. "On the day of the
+great feast five years ago, on this very spot, after having made my
+offering to Jaganauth and to Haunamon and the other gods there," and
+he indicated with his dirty hand a little stone building at his left
+which contained a shrine to the legless, armless, hideous god,
+Jaganauth, and to the red, shapeless figure known as Haunamon, "I
+came to this spot to present my offering to the old man who had sat
+here ever since I could remember. But he was not here. He was gone.
+They told me that they had found him that morning lying dead on the
+steps there with his feet in the Ganges and that already his body
+had been burnt in the burning-ghat near by. 'What a reward!' I
+thought, 'to have died by the side of Mother Gunga. Surely he must
+have found peace.'
+
+"'Can I not find peace by following his example?' The thought came
+to me suddenly as I stood here gazing upon his empty shelter and his
+neglected fire. I determined at least to try, for, at any cost, I
+must find peace! In my zeal and eagerness at once I stripped off my
+clothing and smeared myself with ashes from the fire which the holy
+man had kindled but the day before. Leaving my clothes on the ground
+underneath this little roof near the heap of ashes, as a sign that
+the dead man's place had been taken, to warn off other possible
+devotees from the spot, immediately I passed down the little street
+there between the stalls where are sold the articles needed in the
+worship of your goddess. At one I bought the little lamp; at
+another, garlands; at another, oil and a brass bowl; and at the
+street there I turned aside to buy, with my last annas, a black kid
+as a sacrifice for Kali.
+
+"Through the narrow passage between the houses that surround the
+temple of Kali I went in haste, drawing the bleating kid behind me
+by a rope. When I reached the little paved courtyard before that
+small but most sacred shrine where dwells the goddess herself I gave
+the animal over to the priest. Then I watched eagerly as he put the
+little creature's neck between the posts so that he could not get
+away, and, with but one blow of the knife, severed the head from the
+body, letting the blood pour forth. I hastened to catch the precious
+blood in my brass bowl. I daubed it upon my forehead. I touched the
+sacred slaughter posts with it. I gladly stepped where it had flowed
+upon the pavement and reddened my feet in the sacred flood. Then, as
+the priest carried the carcass away and other sacrificers thronged
+in, I took my bowl and, mounting the steps of the holy place where
+no unclean foot has ever trod, I saw the door of the shrine open and
+before me stood the Goddess Kali in her black majesty, with human
+skulls for a necklace and human arms for a girdle, her protruding
+tongue thirsting for blood. I poured my offering of blood upon her
+and with prayers and presentation of flowers and incense, I invoked
+her blessing upon me and declared to her a vow that for five years I
+would sit at the ghat day and night; that I would follow all the
+customs of the holy men:--wear no clothes but ashes, eat no food but
+fruit, drink no water but that of the sacred Ganges, and pray
+without ceasing; and that every anna that I received as alms I would
+give to her.
+
+"Now, Priest of this most revered goddess, all this have I done. I
+have never left this spot since returning from offering my vow to
+her five years ago; I did not even go home to tell my family, who
+after several days traced me here; but I was so changed that they
+did not recognize me. Now they mourn me as dead. Here I have sat for
+five years upon this skin. See my legs, how withered they are! See
+my body; there is not a clean spot on it! See, I have drunk nothing
+but this water," and he held up the jar of muddy liquid which the
+old woman had set down at his side. "I eat nothing but fruit; I
+think of nothing but my beads and my sacred book; I give every pice
+to your temple. I have kept my vow. But I am not satisfied. I have
+not found peace. What shall I do? Priest of Kali! What can I do to
+find peace?"
+
+The sad heart of the holy man was in his eyes as he looked at the
+priest and his voice was pleading. "If thou dost know, tell me!"
+
+The priest, who had been dulled by his bestiality so that he was not
+able to comprehend the soul-longings of the man before him, had
+already become weary of the fakir's earnestness and importunity.
+Lazily he pulled himself to his feet, after a last long suck at the
+pipe. "Come and be a priest of Kali," was his only answer as he
+turned down the lane towards the temple of his goddess, with lustful
+eyes fixed upon a pretty woman, who, attracted by the unusual
+animation of the holy man, had been standing near by until the
+priest arose.
+
+The fakir, worn out by the eagerness with which he had spoken and
+the unappreciativeness of his listener, turned wearily to his holy
+book and his prayers. He knew the priesthood of Kali; in his five
+years at the Kalighat he had heard and seen strange things which as
+a Hindu he could not condemn, but which he knew would not bring
+peace to him, even as a priest of Kali, for in his young manhood he
+had tried them and had not been at rest. "I was, indeed, foolish to
+have talked to the priest at all," he murmured.
+
+"Pardon me, holy one," a voice interrupted his thoughts, the voice
+of a young man who had been standing for some time with an open book
+in his hand, not reading, but listening to the words of the fakir.
+"I heard thy conversation. Hast thou ever tried the pursuit of
+wisdom? Study, learn, become the wisest of men and surely thou wilt
+become the most happy. I am a follower of that way."
+
+The holy man, turning, looked fixedly for some time at the young
+man. "Son, what means the sad look in your eyes? Are you yourself
+happy? Tell me truly!"
+
+The young man's intelligent but undeniably sad face was turned full
+towards the fakir. For a few moments he seemed to hesitate to reply.
+At last he said, "No, holy man, I have not found peace yet. I have
+not found happiness yet, but I am only a student. I am seeking. I
+study and read at all times--but even while I read my heart is not
+at rest, I must confess." He turned as he finished speaking and with
+bowed head, unmindful of the noise and confusion of the square about
+him, went down the lane.
+
+The fakir sighed. "Peace is not found in that way, poor youth! For I
+have tried it. I was a Hindu scholar of note before I became this,"
+and he gazed at his dirty hands and body with evident loathing.
+
+The old woman, who had waited all this time for her blessing, said
+timidly, holding out her hand towards him, "Holy man, most holy man!
+Give me thy blessing, for my son is ill. Tell me how he can be
+healed, my only son."
+
+Mechanically the holy man muttered a blessing, and taking a pinch of
+ashes from the fire before him, with a mumbled prayer, dropped them
+into her hand. "Put these upon his tongue. Bathe his head in the
+holy Gunga water and forget not to offer a kid to Kali."
+
+"But I cannot offer a kid. I have no money! I have no money! My son
+will die! My son will die!" sobbed the woman.
+
+The holy man looked at her fixedly for a full minute, realizing her
+grief and her need. Then with a quick glance about him he leaned
+forward. He swept up the pile of coins on the offering cloth before
+him and thrusting them into the woman's hands whispered: "Go and
+buy! Go and buy!"
+
+The woman went quickly, wiping her eyes with her sari.
+
+The fakir's face became radiant. "Surely that sweet feeling was
+peace! Blessed peace! Is this the end of my quest? Has my soul at
+last found rest?"
+
+As suddenly his face darkened. "Yet, yet--I should have given that
+money to the goddess. I promised in my vow that every anna, above
+the cost of my fruit and of the wood for my fire, should be given to
+her."
+
+He bowed his head upon his hands.
+
+"I have broken my vow--on the last day of the five years I have
+broken my vow! I am unholy! I am unholy!"
+
+After a few minutes he raised his bowed head and seemed to be
+thinking aloud. "Peace could not have come in cheating the gods.
+That strange feeling when I gave to the woman to relieve her sorrow
+could not have been peace--but it was sweet, very sweet!" He paused
+with a half smile which soon, however, was overcast, for all the joy
+went out of his face again as he said, "It must be that I have not
+denied myself enough, have not made enough sacrifices. And I have
+been unholy! Surely there is peace for the truly holy. I will try
+again.--I will swear another vow. Take me to Kali!" He called the
+last sentence loudly, but ere the people in the square understood
+his wish, he remembered that he had no money, no offering to take;
+even he, a "holy man," could not go to Kali's temple to make a vow
+without an offering. He must wait until the people should fill his
+empty begging cloth.
+
+"After all, it is best thus," he thought. It would have been useless
+for him to have gone to the temple without having planned what new
+form of self-torture he must add to his present life, in his search
+for peace. "I must plan my vow," he said.
+
+In the meantime the sun had set and the people were leaving the
+ghat. Involuntarily the fakir pulled a cotton sheet around him and
+started to add a stick to his fire, for it was beginning to get
+chilly. But suddenly he stopped, dropped the stick from his hand and
+threw the cloth from his shoulders, proclaiming in a loud voice:
+"For the next five years I will have no fire at night, nor will I
+put more clothing about my body; but I will have a fire by day when
+the sun is hot. Moreover I will eat but once a day and but once a
+day will I drink water, no matter how parching the heat. And--and--I
+will hold my arms above my head all the night! Surely," his
+voice sank, "surely these sacrifices will bring me peace.
+Surely--they--will--bring--me--peace. To-morrow will be the day to
+begin my new vow, but," he paused, "perchance I can gain my desire
+sooner if I begin now. Now, to-night, I will begin to keep my vow."
+
+In haste the holy man beat out his fire with the sacred tongs; he
+threw his cotton sheet towards a beggar shivering on a step near
+by; and with his eyes turned towards the waters of the sacred
+Ganges, just visible in the dim twilight, he raised his arms high
+above his head.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+Shama Sahai
+
+
+A little company of pilgrims were trudging along the hot, dusty
+road. Where a large tree offered a resting place, there for a few
+minutes, squatting in the shade, the little company would stop while
+the mother, taking her naked baby from her hip, astride of which he
+had been carried during the journey, would let him stand beside her,
+and the father would take a fresh chew of pan, spitting out the red
+juice upon the roadside. But the young girl of the party would sit
+apparently unwearied, with bright, eager eyes fixed upon the road
+and with caressing fingers fondling the bracelets which adorned her
+arms.
+
+It was an unusual thing for Shama Sahai to be clad in a gay sari, to
+have necklaces of beads about her neck, a glass-set stud in her
+nose, pretty, brass rings in her ears, bracelets upon her arms,
+metal circlets upon her fingers, large anklets upon her feet, and
+rings even on her toes. But most unusual was it for her to be
+leaving her village home of mud huts and with her parents-in-law and
+baby brother to be taking a journey; for from early childhood Shama
+Sahai had been but a despised and neglected widow in the home of
+her dead Hindu husband. She knew that they were going to some place
+afar off to worship the god Krishna and that some special blessing
+was coming to them for making this journey. She knew that her father
+and mother and she herself had worked hard in the fields that they
+might earn the money needed to pay the visit to the sacred city. She
+knew, too, that a large portion of this money had been spent upon
+her own adornment. So she felt very proud and very happy, but most
+of all very eager to reach the wonderful place to which they were
+going. Shama Sahai was young and strong, accustomed for many of her
+sixteen years to the heat of the noonday sun in the fields. To make
+greater haste she would offer to carry the baby and settling more
+comfortably the bundle which she carried upon her head, she would
+take the baby astride upon her hip and start off at an energetic
+pace.
+
+[Illustration: "Shama Sahai was not happy"]
+
+For several days they journeyed thus, at night sleeping by the
+roadside, each wrapped in an extra covering which Shama carried in
+the bundle on her head during the day. Often they met other
+pilgrims, or sacred fakirs who, each with a pair of tongs in his
+hand, would be measuring their length along the road with naked,
+ash-smeared bodies, seeking by such self-torture to win rest for
+their souls. Sometimes they would meet ox-carts loaded with produce
+for the city market; at other times, bands of coolies carrying
+sugar-cane or bundles of fuel cakes upon their heads. It was all of
+interest to Shama Sahai, who, pulling her sari down over her face,
+would peep out between its folds and eagerly watch every passer-by.
+Sometimes, however, she would be frightened as a "chug-chug" would
+sound upon the air and a great motor car would whiz by and all she
+could see would be a cloud of dust whirling along before her.
+
+On the long journey before they could reach Kamadabad Shama was
+afraid that her pretty finery would be spoilt, because her sari soon
+began to get wrinkled and one of the stones in her prettiest finger
+ring fell out. Therefore, every evening, when just at sundown they
+stopped in front of a little wayside temple, the names of whose gods
+she did not know, and lost an hour of travelling before dark while
+they put flowers upon the necks of the idols, poured a little oil
+upon their bodies, and lighted tiny lamps before them, she begrudged
+the time. She was not interested either in the terrible din, the
+beating upon gongs and the ringing of bells with which the Hindu
+priests awakened their gods for worship. Her thoughts were of
+Kamadabad and the wonders that awaited her there.
+
+At last on a bright morning they reached the city with its narrow,
+black streets lined with dirty-white, plastered houses and tiny
+shops. As the streets were full of people crowding this way and
+that, Shama Sahai kept as close to her parents as she could. At once
+the little company hurried to the great temple which was by far the
+most wonderful building that Shama had ever seen. It was enclosed by
+high walls and above the gate was a tower tapering upward many
+stories, on each story of which stood figures of gods, many of whom
+the girl knew and feared, but others whom she had never seen before.
+Passing under this tower they entered a court and from there went
+under another tower to another court and on until, entering a
+covered building in the centre, they found the god, a great black
+figure, reeking with oil and garlanded with flowers. All around were
+young girls, no older than Shama herself, who, with faces
+shamelessly uncovered, stood there alone, without their parents.
+Priests, almost naked, were going through ceremonies before the
+idol. So dark and weird did it all seem and so many strange looking
+people were passing back and forth that Shama Sahai was half
+frightened.
+
+After the little company had presented its offerings to the gods and
+the father had spoken aside to a big fat priest who kept looking at
+Shama Sahai, the mother announced that they must bathe in the
+sacred pool. So they returned to the outer court of the temple where
+was a tank about two hundred feet square containing foul and slimy,
+but none the less exceedingly sacred, water. Into this tank they
+stepped and with prayers and the reciting of charms bathed with the
+throng of worshippers. Carefully they washed out their mouths with
+the filthy water and then drank of it. During all this time the fat
+priest kept close to them and it seemed to Shama that his eyes were
+always upon her. His were not attractive eyes nor was his face
+pleasing and the girl was thoroughly frightened when, after the
+cleansing ceremony, he bade them good-bye with a caressing hand upon
+her shoulder while a bestial smile distorted his face.
+
+That night Shama Sahai was not happy although she had reached the
+place where she had so longed to be. The memory of the priest's face
+haunted her and she could not keep from thinking of those girls in
+the temple. Towards morning her mother was taken ill. And the groans
+of the woman kept her awake. She stole out upon the door-step, but
+the sounds of the city were so strange that, little country girl
+that she was, she drew back and preferred to lie down again beside
+her moaning mother.
+
+The mother was no better in the morning. Then the man of whom they
+rented the lodging suggested that Shama Sahai should go up to the
+house of a white memsahib who could make people well and ask for
+help. The memsahib could do wonderful things, the man said, and
+without doubt would cure the sick woman. Although very timid, Shama
+could not refuse to go for her mother's sake. So, taking her baby
+brother on her hip and guided by the landlord's child, she took her
+way along the narrow streets until she came to a high brick wall
+with a large open gateway. Within she saw a number of people
+standing before a long, low building. The boy, her guide, having
+pointed to that building and by so doing having done his whole duty,
+set himself to the pleasant task of chasing some chickens which were
+running at large in the compound. Shama Sahai had to approach the
+building alone. As she came nearer the little knot of people, she
+noticed that every one of them looked ill and almost every one
+carried a little bottle in his hand. Through the open door of the
+building she could see a white memsahib in a blue striped dress,
+sitting at a little table, writing slips of paper and handing them
+out to the sick people. Occasionally the lady would touch one of the
+patients and he would run out his tongue. It was all very queer but
+interesting to Shama and even the baby watched quietly. When
+Shama's turn came to enter, she was so embarrassed that she could
+hardly speak, but, encouraged by the memsahib's speaking kindly to
+her in her own tongue, she finally stammered out a brief but none
+too lucid account of her mother's illness. But the lady seemed to
+understand. After writing in a book and speaking to a native woman
+who stood behind a sort of table near by, with more kind words she
+put a small bottle of medicine into the girl's hands. Assured that
+her mother would soon be well and with orders to come the next day
+and report the condition of the patient, Shama Sahai went home very
+much pleased.
+
+But the mother did not get well at once and for several days the
+girl paid a daily visit to the dispensary, each time losing a little
+of her timidity and each time being more attracted by the white lady
+who was so kind to her and called her by name and who, one day when
+there had been but a few patients and Shama Sahai had lingered
+behind, had told her beautiful stories about a new god that was not
+an ugly black image.
+
+However, after a while the mother did get so much better that she
+could go to the temple again and Shama Sahai's visits to the
+dispensary ceased. She hoped that they would soon go home. By this
+time so frightened had the girl become in the great city that she
+was almost as anxious to leave Kamadabad as she had been to reach
+there.
+
+One night as she lay, apparently asleep, in her corner of the room
+near the outside door, she heard her father and mother talking as
+they came up on the door-step. She opened her eyes and listened.
+
+"We'll go home to-morrow. I made final arrangements with the priest
+to-day. My, but he's a hard one to drive a bargain with! We will
+settle the money part in the morning so that we can get a good start
+before night," said her father.
+
+Shama Sahai gave a sigh of relief at the prospects of an early start
+for home and was about to close her eyes so that she might sleep and
+be rested for the journey, when she heard her mother say: "Where are
+we to leave her?"
+
+"The priest said to take her to the inner court of the red temple
+with the offerings. He will perform the necessary ceremonies in a
+short time and we can leave her there," answered the man. "I wanted
+it done to-day so that we could get off on the road in the cool of
+the morning, but he would not have it so."
+
+"Have you bought our food yet? We won't need so much rice without
+Shama, you know," said the mother.
+
+"I haven't forgotten that when that's just what we are getting rid
+of her for, you may be sure. Yes, I bought it this afternoon. We'll
+miss the girl in carrying the load, I suppose, but you can carry it
+and the baby too just as well as not. How much better it is to get
+rid of a widow in this way and have one less to feed than to have
+the cursed creature always around in the way. We'll not go hungry
+now. A good business we've done here at Kamadabad, old woman,
+although you did waste a lot of time and money by being sick, for of
+course we had to pay extra for the longer stay. That old
+rupee-snatcher of a landlord wouldn't give in an anna because you
+had been sick. He said that he really ought to have charged more,
+for when people are sick they lie down longer and so wear out his
+floor more quickly. You were a fine one, you were, to get sick!" the
+man snarled.
+
+"Yes, but you wouldn't have been here at all or have thought of
+bringing the girl, if I hadn't suggested it," snapped the old woman
+in her turn.
+
+Shama Sahai lay perfectly quiet as the couple, still mumbling unkind
+remarks at each other, came in and lay down on the floor. She
+scarcely breathed for fear that they should find out that she was
+awake. But when she knew that they were asleep, she crept
+out-of-doors and darting around a corner sank down upon some steps.
+She knew from what she had overheard that her parents-in-law were
+planning to go home in the morning without her and that the priest
+was to have her. As she remembered the evil, swollen face of the man
+who had watched her that first day at the temple, she shuddered and,
+drawing her sari more closely about her, crept farther back into the
+doorway.
+
+Only one thought would come--she must run away where the priest
+could not get her and she must go at once. Peeping out from the
+doorway, she looked up and down the street. No one was astir; only a
+quiet form here and there on the little porches could be seen in the
+dim light of the street lamps. She would go to the white memsahib.
+The memsahib and the new god would surely save her.
+
+Like a spirit the girl took her flight through the streets, the
+lightness of her footfall awaking not the most restless of the
+sleepers.
+
+When she reached the familiar compound, she did not hesitate, but,
+running up to the veranda, shook the sleeping chokidar.
+
+"Where is the memsahib? Quick, tell me, quick!"
+
+The watchman, ashamed at having been caught asleep and thinking it
+nothing strange that a girl should call the doctor in the night,
+hastened to show Shama Sahai the stairs leading to the roof of the
+bungalow.
+
+"You'll find her up there. She always sleeps on the roof in the hot
+weather."
+
+The girl was soon beside the doctor's cot and with frightened sobs
+was telling her story. "I've come to you and you must save me," were
+her final words.
+
+Events happen quickly sometimes, especially when an energetic woman
+is helping them along. As the earliest morning train pulled out from
+Kamadabad for Mattera, a native Christian woman with a Hindu girl,
+disguised in the slightly different garb of a Christian, was on
+board, and the white doctor-memsahib was taking her chota hazri with
+fear in her heart.
+
+What would be the fate of the poor young girl who had fled to her
+for refuge? That was the question which was troubling the doctor
+that morning. Although she was used to witnessing crises in people's
+lives with real, professional calm, this morning her outward
+calmness was assumed, for this was a case which her degree of M. D.
+had, perhaps, not qualified her to handle.
+
+Throughout the long day the doctor waited expecting searchers for
+the girl, but no one came to make any inquiries of her. As she was
+leaving her compound gate towards evening for her daily exercise,
+she met a man and a woman, the latter carrying on her hip a baby
+whom the doctor recognized. The man was saying in Hindustani to the
+woman:
+
+"The priest stole her. I know he stole her! Well, it's much the same
+after all, I suppose, for we're rid of her anyway. Of course he
+pretended he had not seen her and was angry because I had not
+brought her. Well, well; it's hard to deal with the priests."
+
+"Whoever has her, may bad luck go with her!" exclaimed the woman.
+
+But the woman's malediction did not bring fear to the doctor who,
+stopping short in her walk, could scarcely restrain a shout of joy.
+For this man and woman were Shama Sahai's parents-in-law going home
+without her, believing that the priest had stolen the girl. Instead
+of going on to the river for her usual evening constitutional, the
+doctor-memsahib hastened to the station where she caught the last
+afternoon train for Mattera that she might tell Shama Sahai that she
+was safe.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+Old Sarah
+
+
+"Here comes Old Sarah!" A shrill voice shouted the news through the
+open door into the mud house where the small boy's mother squatted
+at work, with one long, rounded stone crushing the curry seeds upon
+another large, flat stone that stood on the mud floor. At the call
+the mother dropped the long stone from her hand and, springing to
+her feet, hastily followed her naked boy out upon the street of the
+village. Old Sarah was a new friend who recently had come often to
+the village, telling the people stories and singing songs to them.
+But she never had come oftener than twice a week and she had been
+there only the day before. So the woman wondered what could have
+brought her back so soon.
+
+The boy, meantime, had been running up and down the short street,
+clapping his hands and shouting, "Old Sarah has come! Old Sarah has
+come!" as Old Sarah herself had taught him to do at her arrival so
+that the people might know at once that she had come and she might
+not have to wait for an audience.
+
+"Where is she?" called the mother after the running child, for she
+had looked up and down the road and failed to see the old woman.
+
+"Why, there she is!" said the boy coming up. "Don't you see her
+sitting there by the road?"
+
+"That's not Old Sarah! I never saw her sitting by the road like
+that."
+
+"Yes it is! Yes it is!" and the boy danced off in the direction of
+the sitting figure, kicking up the dust with his bare feet in his
+eagerness to reach the side of the old lady who always had some
+sweet for him hidden away in her bag. His mother followed after him
+and several other people, also, who had come from their homes at his
+familiar call.
+
+"Why, it is Old Sarah, sure enough! What can be the matter with
+her?" exclaimed the woman to a neighbour as they approached.
+
+The exclamation was not unnatural, for the usually active old lady
+who, unwearied, had come trudging into their village week after
+week, after a walk of five miles, now sat all bent over on the
+ground with her sari-covered head bowed upon her arms.
+
+The noise of the little crowd as it drew near aroused the old woman,
+who, letting the sari slide back from a head well sprinkled with
+gray, raised to them a face white and drawn. The people were
+astounded, for never in their acquaintance had she shown them aught
+but a face full of life and joy. Now she looked weak and haggard.
+
+"I am sick," she said, answering the unasked question which she saw
+in their faces. "You are my good friends; so I came to you for
+help."
+
+"Oh, let me help her!" cried one.
+
+"Bring her to my house!" called another.
+
+"I will care for her myself," said the child's mother as several
+women stepped up to raise the old woman to her feet.
+
+They had helped her along some little way and the children were
+following close behind or crowding ahead to tell the rest of the
+villagers, when the head man met them.
+
+Looking at the old woman, he said sharply, "What is the matter with
+her?"
+
+The crowd stopped, out of respect to the head man, and each looked
+at the other, not knowing what to say. Then the old woman herself
+looked up. With a feeble attempt at the usual gay salaam with which
+she always greeted the chief, she answered his question.
+
+"It is the cholera," she said.
+
+"The cholera!" frightened voices screamed.
+
+The hands that had so tenderly been guiding the woman's feeble steps
+were suddenly withdrawn. The women fled from her, dragging their
+children with them while the larger youngsters ran down the street,
+crying, "Old Sarah has the cholera! Old Sarah has the cholera!"
+
+The cry was passed on from one person to another for miles along the
+road, for never are the roads of India, except in the hottest part
+of the day, without a throng of travellers.
+
+The old woman, who, thus suddenly left unsupported, had fallen in a
+limp heap in the middle of the road, lay there for some time until
+the sun became unendurable and made its rays felt even in her acute
+suffering. She raised her head. Not a person was in sight. The
+little village was deserted. It consisted only of a few palm-leaf
+huts on each side of the street, shaded by cocoanut trees, and could
+be taken in at a glance. Old Sarah's head fell upon her hands. What
+could she do? If she stayed in the road her suffering would be more
+intense; although she expected to die now that her friends had
+deserted her, still she wanted to die with as little torture as
+possible.
+
+About six feet away from her was the open door of a tiny hut. The
+shade within looked very inviting. Summoning all the strength she
+had, Old Sarah crawled upon her hands and knees, slowly, painfully,
+to the door and dropped at full length on the hard mud floor. It was
+cool there but, oh, how lonely! No one to care for her! no one to
+supply her wants! no one to be with her when she should die! and no
+one to give her body Christian burial before the pariah dogs should
+tear it to pieces! She heard a noise at the door. With a flash of
+joy in her heart to think that some one had returned to help her,
+painfully turning her head, she saw--only the sacred bull of the
+village sticking an inquiring nose into the door. Perhaps there
+might be something within that he might feed upon, for he, according
+to Hindu custom, was privileged to help himself to whatever he could
+find anywhere. With disappointed heart, Old Sarah let her head roll
+back and closed her eyes, although the thought passed through her
+mind that the bull might enter the house and trample upon her in his
+search for food in the tiny room; but if he should, it would bring
+her only a quick release from her pain. Then the pain and suffering
+became so great that she could not even think. The bull, however,
+evidently seeing nothing to please his appetite within the hut,
+turned away from the door and went on down the street, nosing along
+the front of every house until he reached the last one where a woman
+in her haste to flee from the cholera had overturned a basket of
+pea-pods and left them in a heap on the mud floor of the porch
+before the house--a fine meal for a hungry bull.
+
+The minutes flew by and became hours; only the moaning from the
+house near the middle of the street disturbed the hot hush of the
+midday.
+
+A cat crept into the hut and sniffed at the woman's feet; a dog
+peered in at the dark object on the floor; but no human being came
+near.
+
+When the sun was no more than an hour from setting, there sounded
+the rumble of wheels. A wooden ox-cart, driven by a scantily-clad,
+very dark native, and drawn by a pair of the gray, humped bullocks
+of the district, entered the street at the head of the village. The
+bullocks were brought to a halt at once and a woman's head appeared
+from under the rounded straw covering of the cart.
+
+"Where is she? Do you see her?" she asked the man.
+
+"There is no one in sight," he replied. "But, hark, I hear a moan!"
+
+"She must be in that house there," he added after listening a
+moment, pointing as he spoke with a thin, black finger to the house
+into which Old Sarah had crawled.
+
+He drove his bullocks on down the narrow street until he pulled up
+in front of the hut. Then the young woman, for it was a young Tamil
+woman in the cart, with beautiful face and straight, lithe figure,
+leapt to the ground and ran into the house, her pretty red sari
+fluttering behind her. The man in the cart sat still, watching the
+open door, the eternal sadness of the Hindu in his face.
+
+The woman was gone for some time but, finally, looked out of the
+door. "I have done all I can for her. She is very bad. I think we
+had better take her to the hospital in the city, for there they may
+be able to save her life. Get the cart ready," she called.
+
+As she disappeared again, the man got down slowly from the front of
+the cart and, having got in at the back, arranged some blankets so
+as to make it as comfortable as possible for the sick woman. Then he
+went into the house with another blanket in his arms. And in a few
+minutes the two came out again, carrying Old Sarah in the blanket
+between them, and they laid her as carefully as they could in the
+cart.
+
+All this was not done in silence, for all of the time the young
+woman kept talking, sometimes addressing the sufferer, sometimes the
+driver, and sometimes herself. "Poor old woman!" she said. "To think
+that the cowards all ran away and left her like this after the
+kindness she had shown them. She has walked those five miles, really
+ten, there and back, day after day, to tell them about her new
+religion and to help them; for she never came that she did not help
+the women in their work, or bring the children some sweets, or teach
+the people something new. Dear old soul! And after all the love you
+have given them, just in your hour of need they all forsook you!
+Just wait until I get a chance and I'll tell them what I think about
+such actions; indeed, what every decent person would think! They
+pretended to be so fond of her too; she really thought they loved
+her as much as if she had been their mother. That's the way with
+these black heathen!"
+
+"Why didn't she come to you?" asked the man as they got the old
+woman settled with her head on the young woman's lap and he had
+climbed up in front to prod the bullocks to a start.
+
+"Poor old soul, I never gave her any reason to think that I believed
+her preachings although she has come faithfully every week to visit
+me. I liked to tease her and hear her funny answers. I liked to ask
+her hard questions about her new religion. She would pucker her face
+all up and think and think until she had answered every one. Alas, I
+never let her know that her religion touched my heart and that I
+believe in Jesus Christ! I never even let her know that I loved her.
+Of course she would not come to me for help. But I do love her. She
+was so funny and so full of life and odd sayings that I just had to
+tease her, that was all. Now, now I fear it is too late to tell
+her!" she ended with a sob.
+
+"I don't believe she will live, do you?" she asked the servant a
+moment later as he had turned around to look at the old woman and
+they both were gazing down upon her face, drawn and haggard, with
+lips parted in a moan.
+
+"I fear not," said the man. "Have you given her from the bottle?"
+
+"Yes, the very medicine she brought me a month ago when the cholera
+threatened our village." She pulled a bottle from the bosom of her
+sari. "I'll give her another dose now; surely if one dose is good,
+two will be better."
+
+She tipped the bottle to the old woman's lips who mechanically
+swallowed a very little. It seemed to revive her for she opened her
+eyes and murmured: "Who is this? Where am I?"
+
+The other, bending over her, answered, "This is Jessa. Don't you
+know Jessa? I've come to take care of you. You will be all right
+soon."
+
+"Jessa! Who is Jessa?" the weak voice asked while the big eyes
+stared up at the girl, unseeing.
+
+"Don't you know Jessa, the girl at Bindy, the chief's daughter whom
+you go to teach every week?"
+
+"Yes, but she wouldn't come to help me. She doesn't love me and she
+makes fun of my God."
+
+"Sarah, dear Old Sarah!" the young woman raised the old woman's head
+from her lap and, gazing into her eyes, seemed to draw her back to
+sight. "Sarah, it is Jessa and she loves you, and--and--Sarah," the
+girl added softly, "she loves your God."
+
+A brightness as of renewed life suffused the face of the old woman.
+"God be thanked!" she tried to shout, but the shout fell away into a
+murmur and the hands, which she had tried to clap as was her custom
+when overjoyed, fell back at her sides. But although she became
+again unconscious, the smile of joy remained upon her face and
+lighted up the thin, dark features surrounded by the straggling gray
+locks and made her face beautiful, as beautiful for the moment as
+the face, young and perfect of feature, that bent over her.
+
+"She is dying!" said the man. Stopping his bullocks as he spoke he
+slid from his seat and began to fumble under the blankets.
+
+"What are you doing, Nado?" called the girl.
+
+"Here is a shrine. I will pray for the life of the old woman and
+offer a handful of rice to the god."
+
+"Nado," a slim brown hand was laid on his big black one and
+prevented him from opening the rice bag, "Nado, she is a Christian.
+I, too, am a Christian now. We cannot pray for her life at a
+heathen shrine. Sit in your place, Nado, and I will pray to our
+God."
+
+The man did not get up into his place but stood and with wide,
+interested eyes watched the girl as, laying the old woman's head
+gently back in her lap, she freed her hands and clasping them to
+heaven, raised her eyes and prayed. The words were the words of the
+young girl herself but the gestures were copied from Old Sarah as
+she had prayed many, many times in the girl's presence. One, not
+impressed by the solemnity of the moment, would have laughed at the
+grotesque motions of her hands and head as she prayed.
+
+"Oh, most great God, most great of all the gods," said the girl.
+"Let Old Sarah live. She is a good woman. Never has she harmed any
+one. Her whole life has been given to helping others. Save Old
+Sarah's life, I pray. I will bring Thee an offering of the best I
+have, if Thou wilt spare her life and let her live. Take the awful
+pain away from her. Let her sleep and let her rest and do, oh God,
+let her live. I will bring Thee cocoanuts and sweets, rice and a
+young kid, if Thou wilt spare her life. For Jesus Christ's sake.
+Amen!"
+
+The girl, unconscious of the absurd way that she had mixed the ideas
+of her old heathenism with the words and thoughts of the new
+religion she had learned from the old woman, unclasped her hands
+and with a smile looked down upon the face in her lap. Already it
+seemed to her that her prayer was being answered, for the sick
+woman's breath seemed to come more easily and the moaning had
+ceased. As the girl was absorbed in watching the effect of her
+prayer, the man took a handful of rice from the bag, without
+attracting attention, and slipped to the side of the road where
+under a tree stood a wayside shrine. Pouring out the rice before the
+ugly image and bowing three times in front of it, he hurriedly
+muttered some unintelligible words and climbed back into the wagon.
+There was a gleam of satisfaction on his face as he started the
+bullocks again, for he had done what he could to save the life of
+the old woman whom he, as a respected servant in the family of the
+chief, had seen often about their home but to whose preaching he had
+never had time to listen.
+
+To the city and then through the city to the hospital was a long
+ride in the lumbering ox-cart but it was not a particularly hard
+ride to any of the three, for native Indians prefer hard seats and
+hard beds to springs and cushions. And already the old woman was
+resting so quietly that the girl thought her prayer had been
+answered and the man felt that his offering had been accepted.
+
+At the hospital a nurse took charge of the sick woman but she would
+not let the girl enter. So the latter quietly placed a kiss upon the
+old woman's forehead and turned away, confident that in a short time
+she would see Old Sarah again in her own village, for she had
+prayed.
+
+As it was night and the oxen were tired, the girl could not return
+to her village at once. Besides there was one thing more that she
+must do in the city. Therefore they turned aside to the marketplace
+where the farmers slept under their carts. There they made
+themselves comfortable for the night, after the driver had cooked
+them a little meal at a fire of twigs and dung-cakes. The girl kept
+in the cart with her sari drawn up over her face, for such was her
+custom in the big city. But later, when she was rolled up in the
+blankets, she felt very secure with Nado asleep under the pole of
+the cart and the bullocks chewing their cuds beside him.
+
+When morning came, when the bullocks had been yoked up again and all
+things were ready for the start, she said:
+
+"Nado, we must tell Old Sarah's mistress. I don't know where she is
+but we must find her. She lives in a big house and takes care of a
+lot of little orphan children, for Sarah has often told me about
+them and her."
+
+It was strange, but in only a few minutes they had found the place
+where the little orphan children lived, for the natives seemed to
+know the compound well. And a few minutes later Jessa stood before a
+sweet-faced English woman, but so embarrassed by the memsahib's
+presence that she scarcely dared raise her eyes. Only thoughts of
+Old Sarah and her love for this white lady gave her courage.
+
+"Memsahib," she said in a timid voice, "Old Sarah is very ill with
+the cholera. We have taken her to the hospital."
+
+"Old Sarah ill with cholera!" the English woman exclaimed in
+amazement. "She has been gone since day before yesterday. She never
+was gone so long alone before and we have been worried; but I did
+not dream of cholera! She is in the hospital?"
+
+"Yes, Memsahib. But I think she will get well," the girl added
+hastily as she saw the lady's anxiety. "I am sure she will get well,
+for I--I--prayed," she faltered.
+
+"And I gave an offering to the gods," said the man servant in a
+pleased tone to himself, for he was listening interestedly, having
+followed the girl to the door.
+
+"Get my topi, boy, and order the gari quickly," the memsahib called
+to her bearer. "I must go to Old Sarah at once. Where did you find
+her, child?"
+
+So while the memsahib waited for her topi and the gari, Jessa told
+her the story of how Old Sarah had gone to the village to her
+friends for help but how they had fled from her and left her to die;
+how one of the frightened people had come to the village of which
+her father was head man and had told them; and how she herself,
+because she loved Old Sarah on account of the loving teaching she
+had received from her, how she had taken her servant and cart and
+gone to save the old woman's life. She told the lady, too, of the
+condition in which she had found Old Sarah, of the journey to the
+city, and of the reception at the hospital. As she finished telling
+her story, she repeated her assurance that the old woman would live
+because she, Jessa, had prayed to God.
+
+The memsahib praised the girl for her bravery and thanked her for
+her kindness to Old Sarah who was very dear to the English lady's
+heart. And as the gari came up just then she urged them to remain
+until her return from the hospital, but the girl felt that she must
+hurry back, since she knew that Old Sarah would be all right now. So
+they said good-bye and Jessa, having climbed into the cart, was
+trundled away by the faithful bullocks and the still more faithful
+Nado, whose gentle prodding of the bullocks was essential to their
+progress.
+
+Meantime the memsahib had entered her gari and was being driven as
+fast as the ponies could take her to the hospital. There she was met
+by a nurse who said that she knew nothing of the case that the lady
+spoke of. Another nurse was called who knew nothing of such a woman
+as Old Sarah. The lady, however, would not be turned aside; the
+records must be searched. And searched they were. The nurses
+discovered that a cholera case had been brought in late the evening
+before, that the woman had died towards morning, and that already
+her body had been for some time in the hospital morgue.
+
+"You must get her out at once," said the lady, "for she is not
+dead."
+
+The nurses who had been uninterested until that moment then looked
+at the English lady in mild amazement, for how could a person who
+had been in the dead-house for several hours be still alive? But the
+lady was well known to them by reputation and they yielded to her
+wishes. At her demand they called the head nurse who, because she,
+too, knew much about this lady, revoked all hospital rules and
+permitted her to enter the morgue with them.
+
+There lay Old Sarah's form, covered with a sheet, upon the floor
+with other corpses. The familiar gray hair drew the memsahib's eyes
+at once. She pulled back the sheet and felt for the heart.
+
+"We'll work over her. I do not think she is dead."
+
+With incredulity not only in their hearts but written plainly upon
+their faces, the nurses had the body removed to an empty room. And
+then, because the little memsahib was a woman of such mighty spirit,
+they fell to work.
+
+Old Sarah was not dead, although she had been for several hours
+numbered among the dead. Gradually circulation was restored. When
+the signs of life became unmistakable the nurses worked zealously to
+make up for the awful wrong that had almost been done. In a big,
+busy hospital, especially during times of stress, things sometimes
+are done in a hurry and mistakes are sometimes made.
+
+The memsahib did not leave for several hours. When the dear old eyes
+opened at last, they looked around in wonder until they rested upon
+the memsahib's face. Then a glad light shone from them and an eager
+voice whispered: "Oh, Memsahib, is this heaven?"
+
+"No, Sarah, this is not heaven. You are still on earth with me,
+thank God!"
+
+"I didn't think it looked exactly like heaven," the old woman added
+a little later as she looked around at the bare walls, "but with
+Jesus and you, Memsahib, it would be heaven in any kind of place.
+
+"I thought I was dead," she kept murmuring, evidently unable to get
+the idea out of her head.
+
+"No, Sarah," the memsahib finally assured her, "you are very much
+alive and just to convince you I will scold you a little. Why, oh,
+why, Sarah, did you not come to me when you were taken ill?"
+
+"Memsahib, Old Sarah knew she had the cholera and she could not
+expose the memsahib and the dear, little orphan children to it; so
+she just took her burial clothes and went away, thinking that her
+friends at Yenna, for whom she had travelled so many, many miles in
+her old age to tell them about Jesus, would take her in. But they
+ran away and left Old Sarah to die all alone."
+
+"Were you not sorry then that you had not told me?" urged her
+mistress.
+
+"No, Memsahib, not even then, for it was better that Old Sarah
+should die all alone than that the memsahib and the dear, orphan
+children should die too."
+
+"You precious old woman!" The memsahib, sinking on her knees by the
+bed with her arms around the thin, brown shoulders, implanted a kiss
+upon the gray hair. "That is more than a white person would have
+done!" she said under her breath.
+
+And as the English woman looked upon Old Sarah's happy face and
+remembered the happy, trustful face of the young girl who had saved
+this life and declared that the old woman would live because of
+prayer, the memsahib realized that no hearts in the world were
+whiter before God than those of these brown people who loved Him
+well enough to be willing to lay down their lives for others. In
+beauty of form and feature these brown people often surpass the
+white races and she felt that with the love of the true God in their
+hearts they might surpass the white races, also, in the beauty of
+their lives and of their love.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+A Son of the Law
+
+
+On an afternoon in the early days of the British occupancy of India,
+Blackmore-Sahib sat alone at the big desk in his study, in his hand
+a report which had just reached him from one of his districts. At
+his elbow the tea tray was untouched, although at this hour of the
+afternoon he was usually stretched out in a rattan chair in the
+living-room with the punkah swinging over him, the latest magazine,
+three months old at that, in his hand, and the tea tray already
+replaced on the small table beside his chair by the cigar service
+holding cigarettes all neatly rolled ready for his match. It was not
+because the report was urgent that he had forsaken his accustomed
+ease to prove it up; nor was it that he was particularly interested
+in the task, for apparently he was forcing himself to go over the
+lines of type and up and down the columns of figures. As his pencil
+reached the bottom of a column it would almost drop from his
+listless fingers until, with a start, he would begin upon the next
+row as if in great haste.
+
+The bearer, entering the room noiselessly, saw the untouched tea
+tray standing just as he had left it a half hour before and looked
+anxiously at his master's face. But without disturbing his master he
+removed it and turned to the side table where stood the tobacco
+service. Not a cigarette was rolled! He clumsily attempted to
+prepare some but none of his efforts were really successful.
+However, he put several bulky ones in a saucer and placed them near
+his master's hand. Still in silence but with many backward glances
+at the man bending over the slowly-moving pencil, the boy left the
+room.
+
+As the boy closed the door, the man dropped the pencil upon the
+desk, put his hand to his head for a second, and then arose. He
+walked to the door into the living-room and seemed to listen for an
+instant; then he went back to the desk.
+
+The servant, evidently having heard his master's step, entered with
+fresh tea and toast.
+
+"Is she better?"
+
+As the boy set the tray down he replied hesitatingly, "No, Sahib,
+she is still groaning."
+
+"You fool, don't you suppose I can hear that? She has groaned
+incessantly since last night."
+
+"What can I do?" The man asked the question of himself as he turned
+half around towards the veranda door.
+
+[Illustration: "It was only a glimpse"]
+
+"Won't the Sahib have some tea?" suggested the boy timidly, for
+like every native-born this man feared his stalwart English master.
+
+Blackmore-Sahib held out his hand without turning back from the
+door. "Yes, I will take a cup. Perhaps it will steady me a bit."
+
+"Poor little Nona!" he sighed as he took the cup.
+
+He gulped down the tea hurriedly and reached for a cigarette. But as
+his eyes fell on the clumsy ones in the saucer, they filled with
+tears and he walked quickly out upon the veranda without taking one.
+
+Up and down he paced unheeding the streaks of sunshine which found
+their way in through the vines and fell upon his unprotected head.
+
+"Poor Nona! Poor little girl!" he groaned. How skillfully she had
+always rolled his cigarettes, just to his taste! how daintily she
+had served his cup of tea! and how quietly she had sat every
+afternoon beside him, never disturbing his nap or reading! "Poor
+little Nona!" he sighed, for she might never sit beside him again.
+He could hear her groans now from the bedroom at the other side of
+the great living-room. Pitiable, heart-breaking little groans they
+were! He could not trust himself even to go to the door and look in
+upon her.
+
+And yet he did not really love her. Nona had made Blackmore-Sahib's
+life very comfortable for the last ten years and he could not bear
+to think that she was suffering and probably would die. He did not
+want to lose his little Indian wife and her affectionate care for
+him, though of course she was his "wife" only according to the
+customs of many white men in dark lands. As he paced up and down he
+remembered how, when he had been sent by the government to this city
+in the heart of India away from every European association, he had
+rebelled until, seeing a pair of black eyes peeping from the doorway
+of a certain mud house, he had become very much interested in that
+section of the city although it belonged to a low caste of Hindus.
+He remembered how for several evenings he had taken his evening walk
+in that locality and furtively watched that house door in which he
+again saw framed for a second a beautiful Indian face and a slender,
+lithe Indian figure in a red sari. After a few more visits he had
+several conversations with the men of the neighbourhood and had
+learned that the man who lived in that house was, as they all were,
+of low caste and desperately poor. Finally he had met the man
+himself whom he heard loudly lamenting because he could not afford
+to marry off his beautiful daughters. "Why, a wedding costs many
+rupees nowadays!" he had heard him say.
+
+So the sahib by a little courteous inquiry had learned that the man
+had three unmarried daughters. By further courteous and diplomatic
+conversation he had conveyed to the father the idea that if he, the
+sahib, could have his choice of the three girls he would pay a dowry
+for one of them. After several evenings of discussion and bargaining
+the old man slowly and cautiously had consented, but the matter of
+giving the sahib his choice had been a trifle difficult even among
+the low caste. But, finally, having bidden the sahib stand at the
+other corner of the street where he could see without being
+particularly noticeable, on the evening the bargain was sealed, the
+old man had called his daughters one at a time to the door of the
+house on some trifling pretext. It had been only a glimpse, but as
+the third girl disappeared from the doorway, Blackmore-Sahib had
+been satisfied. On the very next evening, having promised to pay a
+sufficient number of rupees to marry off both of the other
+daughters, the Englishman had had the satisfaction of seeing a
+little draped figure enter a covered ekka and be driven away towards
+his bungalow.
+
+He could remember, even after ten years, how the ekka had driven up
+to his door and how he, having reached the door before her arrival,
+would not pay the promised money until the girl's veil had been
+lifted and he had seen for himself that no trickery had been played
+upon him and that this was the one of his choice. She had been very
+young, very timid, and very beautiful. He remembered that, cross,
+burly chap though he was, he had delighted to tease her out of her
+shyness and teach her the little ways by which she could make him
+happy and his bungalow a home. She had been an ignorant native girl,
+as the majority of Indian girls are, but she had soon learned to
+love him and she had always been beautiful to look upon.
+
+They had not been married. That was not necessary in those days in
+the East. He had given her a good home and in doing that he had done
+his whole duty. Yet he had never mentioned her in his letters to
+England, for "they would not understand." Indeed, he had half
+expected until the last two years to go back to England and marry a
+fine girl whom he had known in boyhood. But when the time had drawn
+near he had decided to stay here as he was;--for what would become
+of Nona? He could not keep her, too, for even he did not think that
+way of living right. He sometimes longed for the green meadows and
+the hawthorne bush and the skylark, nevertheless he remained in
+India, for he could not take Nona and he could not leave her.
+
+But now it seemed as if Nona were going to leave him. If she should
+die, he would be free to go to England to marry his childhood
+friend, for a recent letter from his brother had told him that
+Elizabeth was still unmarried and mistress of her own estate. But
+now, of a sudden, he did not want to go; he did not want to marry.
+Indeed, he did not want anything but to stay here with Nona. He
+wanted Nona! She must not die! He needed her.
+
+"Sahib!" A soft voice arrested his step and Nona's ayah besought
+him: "Sahib, she is no better. May I get the memsahib? I think she
+can help her."
+
+"What memsahib?" he asked, his voice gruff with emotion.
+
+"The missionary memsahib, master. Please let me get her."
+
+"A missionary! Would a missionary come to my house?" he asked in
+scorn.
+
+Blackmore-Sahib had seen the missionary lady often, for she was one
+of the very few Europeans in the city, but he never had spoken to
+her. He knew missionary principles and he felt that he and Nona in
+her eyes were worse than the Hindus "in their blindness." He had
+always avoided a missionary's path; now he would not ask for help!
+Even if he should humble his pride and do so, he felt that no
+Christian would come to him, for were not he and Nona without the
+law?
+
+"No, she would not come," he said emphatically.
+
+"Yes, master, she will come. I know she will come. See how ill my
+mistress is! Hear her moans!" and the faithful ayah wrung her hands
+in grief. "Oh, let me go to get her."
+
+"Is she a doctor?" he asked. "Does she give medicine?" he went on,
+trying to make the native woman understand.
+
+"No, she is not a doctor, but she gives medicines," the woman
+replied enigmatically.
+
+There was no doctor within reach. If this woman could help Nona, had
+he any right to let his pride keep him from at least asking for her
+help? Blackmore-Sahib reasoned it out slowly. Although he was sure
+that she would not come, he must do all that he could to help the
+sick woman and so he must ask the missionary to come.
+
+"Go!" he said finally to the ayah and as she sped down the road he
+continued his pacing and his thoughts. His thoughts turned
+strangely, after the interruption, to his boyhood home and his
+boyhood days when even a lie, a wrong word, or an unkind deed had
+hurt him almost as much as his mother. But his mother had died when
+he was only a lad and after that had come school and then India
+and--Nona.
+
+The change from the rigid morality of a well-trained boy living
+under the eye of a law-abiding people, to the moral thoughtlessness
+and neglect of a man far away from the reign of aught but the law of
+the conqueror among an inferior people; the change from the
+conventional obedience to the social customs of a Christian land, to
+the unconventional disregard of all Christian customs in a heathen
+land, had come so gradually that Blackmore-Sahib had never before
+realized how different he was in moral integrity from what he had
+been in that boyhood home and how different he must be in reality
+from what his mother had imagined that he would be in her fond
+dreams about the future. Had India by her enervating climate, by the
+ease with which she gratifies the sensual side of man's nature, and
+by the intellectual loneliness in which she makes her foreign rulers
+live--had India by these means warped his moral sense? Or had his
+good life in Christian England been a foolish fanaticism and was his
+life here the true living of a free soul?
+
+Blackmore-Sahib was startled at the presence of such questionings in
+a mind which heretofore had accepted his conduct and life
+unquestioned. But at that moment there stole upon him the memory of
+a sweet white face, drawn with pain and the sound of a low but
+earnest voice saying, "My boy, I am going away--to leave you alone.
+Be strong and brave and good." These memories as they mingled in
+his mind and ears with the picture of a beautiful, dark face full of
+suffering into which he had looked that very morning and the sound
+of sharp moans still coming through the half-closed bungalow door,
+worked strange havoc within him.
+
+Although his thoughts had carried him far, only a few moments had
+actually passed when, hearing quick steps beyond the compound wall,
+he came to a halt and saw an English woman hurry in at the gate,
+followed by the panting ayah.
+
+"Good-afternoon, Mr. Blackmore," spoke a pleasant English voice. "I
+am not a physician, but I'll do the best I can."
+
+Blackmore-Sahib followed clumsily, as a man does in a house of
+illness, after the energetic little figure that went straight to
+Nona's room. There the missionary spent much time examining her
+patient and it was with anxious eyes that she finally looked at the
+man as he sat near the door.
+
+"It is a serious case. I have seen just one like it before," she
+said. "But since it is impossible to get a real physician I will do
+the best I can. Will you kindly send me a couple more servants and
+order several tubs of hot water got ready? Then, please, go away for
+a gallop and do not come back for several hours. I don't believe you
+know much about sickness and a good ride will brace you up, for you
+will have to watch with her to-night, I think." The last was said
+with a smile as she started quickly and quietly about her
+preparations.
+
+At the end of two hours he met her at the bedroom door.
+
+"She is more comfortable, but it will be a hard fight. I shall stay
+here to-night. I don't dare trust the case to any one else yet."
+
+In the morning, when at five o'clock he was wakened from a fitful
+sleep by a rap at his door, the same voice said, "She is resting
+now. Will you come and watch her while I go home for a short time? I
+cannot leave her alone with the servants, for they are either too
+tired or too stupid to obey instructions this morning."
+
+About seven she returned and all day long, sometimes by turns,
+sometimes together, they watched and waited, doing all they could to
+help Nature bring back peace to the poor suffering body.
+
+About the middle of the morning he asked her how she had gained her
+medical skill. Then she told him of her life in India and how she
+had found that by helping the sick she could most easily reach the
+hearts of the people. She told of spending one furlough in a
+hospital at home for training. Seeing that the conversation did not
+annoy the patient and that it seemed to interest the man, she went
+on telling about her work and the joys and sorrows that she had
+experienced as a missionary. Not one word of preaching! She simply
+told of her life as if talking to an old friend. There was not a
+sign that she had recognized anything unusual in this household or
+seen anything to condemn. He began to wonder if she knew and yet he
+felt that she did know. She talked about England and the home she
+had hoped to go to the next year; but no one had been found to take
+her place and she could not go until there was some one to work for
+her people. He was surprised at the light in her eyes when she said:
+"I'll not leave them without some one to care for them even if I
+have to put off my home-going all my life."
+
+She talked of Christ so freely and of her own religious beliefs so
+naturally that he felt that her speech grew out of her life and he
+did not resent the personal religious element in her conversation
+which he had always avoided and resented in others.
+
+But while she was talking in low tones or listening to him as he, in
+turn, told of his home in England, she kept a keen eye on her
+patient. About eight o'clock at night a change came. The moaning
+stopped; the restless brown hands grew still; the breath came
+regularly; and Nona slept a quiet, restful sleep. The memsahib, on
+her knees beside the bed, looked up at the big, burly, white man
+standing on the other side of the narrow couch. "She will get well,"
+she said simply. "And now--now"--she stammered with difficulty, "you
+will marry her, won't you?"
+
+As the astonished man gazed into her wistful, earnest face a slow
+resolve grew in his own. The coming of this strong, wholesome woman
+into his life, the revival of the memories of his boyhood, the face
+of his mother, never entirely forgotten, and now clear and vivid
+before his very eyes, and, more even than all these, the dawning
+consciousness of the Presence in which his life had been lived and
+was now being judged cleared away all his ethical confusion,
+revealed to him the evil of his past life and begat in him a great
+desire for cleansing and a high purpose to make amends for the past.
+
+And so when the missionary memsahib said to him, "You will marry
+her, won't you?" his astonishment slowly gave way to a sense of high
+moral purpose. After a silence which revealed the struggle within,
+he replied in a firm voice, "I will! and may God bless you."
+
+With these words the man dropped upon his knees on the other side of
+the bed and his head rested for a moment on the pillow very close to
+the beautiful brown face there. Then, without asking permission,
+the missionary prayed a simple prayer of thanksgiving for the life
+of the woman and a request for a blessing upon her English brother
+and herself that they might shape their lives after the character of
+Christ and live according to Christian laws.
+
+Then the missionary slipped quietly out of the room, for the danger
+was over and the servants could take as good care of their mistress
+as could she. But she promised the anxious ayah as she went away
+that she would come in from time to time for a few days to see that
+all went well.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Two weeks from that day an Englishman stood with a Hindu woman by
+his side in a missionary's parlour and there a quiet wedding
+ceremony was performed. To the bride it meant nothing, but to the
+bridegroom it meant an entire change in his life and heart.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Several years later an English gentleman bore unflinchingly the
+embarrassment--and worse--of introducing an Indian wife to his
+English family at home. Tenderly he sheltered her from all
+annoyances and apparently with pride he took her from place to place
+in the homeland. Only one person, a missionary from India, home on a
+long-delayed furlough, guessed that the journey was one prolonged
+torture to the man who, from a high sense of duty to a woman who
+could not even comprehend it, was making her all amends in his power
+for a wrong which, also, she did not comprehend.
+
+"I don't understand why he married a native," one of the
+Englishman's relatives remarked to a friend. "Otherwise he is a
+perfect Christian gentleman and an honour to the family."
+
+The missionary, who chanced to overhear the remark, in her mind
+erased the "otherwise."
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+Mundra
+
+
+"Mundra!" a harsh voice screamed from the door of the mud house.
+"Mundra, child of the devil, come here. Where are you, spending all
+your life in laziness and I working hard to put rice into the mouth
+of a god-cursed creature like you!"
+
+There would have been no need for more than the first call, if the
+old woman had simply wanted the child to come to her, for at the
+first sound of the voice the little thing had started up from the
+dirt of the road where she had been lying and, gathering the sari,
+in which she had been wrapped, up around her hips and waist, had
+moved hastily towards the speaker. But the woman seemed to be giving
+vent to her own ill nature in an evidently customary and certainly
+vivid way.
+
+"You vile object of the gods' wrath! To be sleeping when every
+decent creature is at work!
+
+"Bring water," the old woman commanded fiercely and with a thrust of
+her foot sent the child, who had reached the door by that time,
+reeling in the direction of a large brass water pot which stood in a
+corner of the mud porch.
+
+[Illustration: "For a few moments she managed to keep up the
+straining movement"]
+
+Evidently too wise and too tired for words, the little creature,
+recovering her balance, quietly but not without great difficulty,
+lifted the big, brass jar and, putting it upon her head, started off
+down the village street.
+
+The small, dark, thin figure walked very straight because of the jar
+on the head, not from any sense of pride, for what had Mundra to be
+proud of? Not a single ornament so dear to the hearts of India's
+women did the child wear; her sari was but a dirty cloth; and her
+head was shaven. Little girls of her own age with clinking anklets
+and glistening jewels drew away their gay garments from any possible
+contact with hers as she came near and stepped to one side of the
+street with their water jars. The men who came towards her along the
+road carefully turned away so as to avoid her shadow as she passed
+them. And no one addressed her except as a small boy now and then
+pointed a finger at her and called out the same words which the men
+muttered to themselves as she passed them--"Cursed of the gods."
+
+As she paused to rest for a moment under the shade of the great
+peepul tree which protects the emblems most sacred to the Hindu
+villager, even the priest, who tended the various small shrines
+beneath the great tree, muttered a curse and moved quickly to the
+other side of the gnarled trunk where a coolie, clad only in soiled
+white loin cloth and dirty pink turban, was winding a garland of
+marigolds about one of the sacred stones. The worshipper's
+attention, attracted by the sudden movement of the priest, was drawn
+to Mundra and he in turn, muttering, paused in his acts of worship
+until the contaminating presence should be withdrawn.
+
+When the child reached the well, she had to wait at a distance until
+all the others there had filled their vessels and gone. Then she
+filled her own and, without assistance, although it took a dreadful
+struggle, raised it to the necessary position on her head.
+
+But the child was so accustomed to all this treatment and so tired
+that she scarcely noticed how the people acted. Her body ached all
+over, from hard work and blows, even to her very heart, which really
+ached hardest of all. Just one short year before Mundra had been one
+of the happy, bejewelled girls of this very town and everybody had
+smiled at her and passers-by had called her "Blest of the gods." But
+now how different! Her father had been of the weaver caste and when
+she had been about ten years old, no native ever knows his exact
+age, she had been married to a man in the same caste. And at that
+time, less than one year before, she had gone to her husband's home
+a welcomed bride, the very home to which she was now returning in
+disgrace, and her mother-in-law had been pleased with her and
+greeted her with kind words, the very same woman who but a few
+moments before had kicked her away with curses.
+
+At the time of Mundra's wedding the people had been anxious because
+rain had not come and the crops were dying. Therefore, with grain
+still at famine prices from the year before, conditions had been bad
+in the district where she lived. So it had not been a surprise when,
+soon after the wedding, among these ill-fed natives had come the
+ever-expected and ever-dreaded cholera. In the early days of the
+scourge Mundra's father and mother had died. At first their death
+had meant little to the child for she was no longer a part of their
+household. But soon death did take one whose going meant at once
+more to her, almost more, than the loss of her own life. One morning
+her husband, a strong man of about thirty, was stricken. By
+nightfall another body had been placed upon the funeral pyre and
+Mundra was a widow.
+
+Mundra, and she alone, had caused the death of her husband; so
+thought every one in the village and so thought the child herself,
+brought up in Hinduism. Now she realized the death of her parents,
+for had they been alive she would have been sent back to them at
+once. But since they were dead she had to be kept as a despised
+member of the household of her mother-in-law, practically a slave
+there, with all the hardships and abuse usually attendant upon the
+lot of such an one. Her hair had been cut off; her pretty jewelry
+had been taken from her; her coloured saris had been sold to a
+neighbour; and in place of all these belongings she had been given a
+few yards of white cotton to wrap about her and part of a ragged
+blanket for a bed. But Mundra could have stood all this hard
+treatment, hard as it had been, and even gladly would have slept on
+the mud porch with the cattle or in the street with the dogs, if
+only every one had not hated her and shunned her as foul and
+unclean, if only some one had loved her, if only some one had even
+spoken kindly to her sometimes or smiled upon her.
+
+"Late as usual, you foul creature of the dust! If you have touched
+that water with your unclean hands, may the next drop which you take
+into your accursed mouth choke you! To your work there at once, you
+abomination in the sight of all that's holy! May the moon blast you!
+May the sun smite you! May your food poison you! And may the gods
+damn you, you devil-bought murderer of men!"
+
+This was the greeting the child received as she staggered upon the
+porch and almost fell as she set the brass jar in the corner. But
+not one moment's rest was there for her.
+
+"To your work, I say!" shrieked the woman again, pointing a brown,
+bony finger towards the grinding-stones in the opposite corner of
+the porch where sat a strong young girl, about sixteen years of age,
+with her hand already upon the handle of the stones waiting for
+Mundra to help her. This girl was well dressed, an honoured
+daughter-in-law in the family, who must do a share of the household
+work, as all Indian women, except the rich, must, but who was well
+fed, strong, and able to work.
+
+Mundra sank down on the floor beside the mill and, placing her small
+hand on the handle above the other's big one, threw all the strength
+she could muster into her thin arm to make the one great stone
+revolve upon the other beneath and crush to flour the grain which by
+handfuls with her free hand the older girl was pouring into the
+opening at the top of the stone.
+
+Meanwhile the mother-in-law had lighted a fire in the tiny mud stove
+beside them, the home-made mud stove, found even in the kitchens of
+the rich, a small, hollow, semicircular mound of mud about eight
+inches high, upon which a kettle could be set and within which a
+fire could be lighted and replenished through the opening in front.
+Upon this stove, instead of a kettle, the woman had put a large,
+flat, iron griddle, upon which, after having patted and rolled out
+some flour, she threw a flat cake, about eight inches in diameter.
+This cake she turned with a pair of long, iron tongs. After it had
+browned a little, she thrust it over the coals in the fire to let it
+puff out and when it was just right to suit her Indian taste, with
+the iron tongs she tossed it, the hot chapati, the common bread of
+India, into a basket by her side. This process she had repeated
+until her basket was nearly full.
+
+The old woman was not so busily engaged with this task, however, as
+to be unable to give her attention to other things. When Mundra's
+tired hand relaxed its hold upon the handle of the grinding-stones
+and the strength in her little body gave out, with one swing of the
+arm, down upon the child's bare back came the hot tongs.
+
+"To work, you accursed creature!" screamed the mother-in-law.
+
+A sharp cry of agony followed the blow, but Mundra, although her
+body was quivering with pain, resumed her work. For a few minutes
+she managed to keep up the straining movement of the arm. Then, in
+spite of all her gathered will, her fingers slipped again. Down came
+the hot tongs a second time upon the tender, though dark, skin and
+Mundra fell in a faint beside the mill.
+
+When the child regained consciousness she was still lying beside the
+mill. She could hear the family within eating their evening meal of
+chapatis, rice, and curry. She could hear their talk of the coming
+rain, of the tiger that had been seen in the jungle near the river,
+of the preparations for the festival of Ram, and of the offerings of
+rice and flowers which must be taken to the god before the day of
+the great procession. Dimly she heard it all. No one mentioned her
+or seemed to have noticed her lying there in the corner of the
+porch. She hoped that they had not; if they would only forget her
+and torture her no more for a little while she would be so glad!
+
+The smell of the fresh chapatis, however, made her long for food,
+for as a widow she had had no meal since morning and could have
+nothing more until the next day. The pain in her back almost made
+her cry out at times, but she restrained herself and lay still,
+unheeded, in the corner behind the mill, until darkness came and the
+lump of clay in the little shrine across the street under the red
+flag had been propitiated by offerings of rice and chapatis, and
+the people of the household had rolled themselves in their blankets
+and gone to sleep.
+
+Then Mundra dragged herself to the edge of the porch and looked
+about. All was dark except a tiny spot in front of the shrine
+opposite, which was still lighted by a small wick burning in a
+shallow dish of oil. The priest had not yet come for the offering.
+
+All was quiet.
+
+An old blue rag, the remnants of a sari, lay on the floor near her.
+Mundra picked it up quickly. As quickly and silently she slipped
+across the street, and--unholy act! worthy of one "cursed of the
+gods"!--she emptied the dish of rice which stood there before the
+idol into the piece of blue cloth; then laying the chapatis upon the
+rice, hurriedly tied the whole into a bundle. For a moment she stood
+looking up and down the street. In both directions all was still
+quiet and dark. But she did not hesitate long. Towards the river,
+where the jungle lay, the tiger might be; down towards the well,
+where the village street joined the public highroad, there might
+be--the child did not know what, except that somewhere in that
+direction lay the great city.
+
+She turned towards the highroad. Creeping along, half walking, half
+crawling, she reached the well. There beside it she tore off her own
+dirty white covering, and, having changed the rice from the blue
+cloth into a piece of the white, she wrapped the ragged blue sari
+around her and drew it up over her shaven head.
+
+Having, with the shrewdness of the native, placed her old clothes on
+the brink of the well, Mundra, now no longer in the garb of a widow,
+turned down the main road towards the great city. She knew not what
+might await her there, but, childlike, she had faith to believe that
+even unknown people would not treat a beggar more cruelly than she,
+a widow, had been treated by her own.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+Of the Tribe of Haunamon
+
+
+The great bungalow, set far back in the grassy compound and shaded
+by mango trees, looked peaceful and sleepy in the afternoon
+sunlight. The very roses in the carefully rounded beds in the centre
+of the lawn before the house were nodding as if resting in the shade
+after the blaze of an Indian noonday sun. The only human creature in
+sight, a dhersy, sitting cross-legged on the little side porch, was
+asleep over his sewing. Between the rows of potted ferns and palms
+along the front veranda appeared glimpses of white as if the
+occupants of the bungalow might be taking their siestas on the open
+rattan couches in preference to the warmer curtained beds within,
+one of which could be seen through an open bedroom door. A mongoose,
+tied to a post of the veranda, had, for a moment, ceased to fret at
+his bondage and gone to sleep. Even several lizards half-way across
+the gravel path from one grassy hunting ground to another had
+stopped as if too exhausted to pursue the never-ending chase. Only
+the shadows moved, little by little lengthening out, creeping
+towards the compound wall, as the never-sleeping sun continued his
+ceaseless journeying towards the west.
+
+Still one hundred and twenty by the thermometer which on the wall
+behind the sleeping dhersy caught the direct rays of the sun! At
+three o'clock of an afternoon in India after a morning's combat with
+the heat how could Nature do aught but sleep in whatever shade she
+could find for her weary head? But even in sleepy, dreamy India
+there are the exceptions that prove the rules. Suddenly a wail arose
+upon the sleepy air and a most terrified cry broke up all quiet and
+repose.
+
+The dhersy, startled from his stolen slumber, looking up guiltily,
+quickly began to turn the wheel of the hand-sewing machine beside
+him. The mongoose tugged at his cord. And a frightened woman started
+up from her couch on the front veranda, as a little white figure
+with flying feet and topiless curly head came running from behind
+the bungalow with the usual cry of childhood's terror:
+
+"Mother! Mother! Oh, mother!"
+
+Even the ayah, who was trying to keep up with the child but having a
+hard time to run in her long, tightly-drawn sari, looked frightened.
+An ugly chattering, sounding from behind the house, kept up for some
+moments as the mother, having gathered the child up in her arms, sat
+down again with her, soothing and quieting her as only a mother
+can, while the ayah dropped panting on the floor beside them.
+
+"There, dear, what is the matter? Tell mother quickly."
+
+"Oh, mother! The monkeys! The monkeys!" sobbed the child.
+
+"There, there, dear, don't cry. You are here with mother now and the
+monkeys cannot hurt you. Tell mother what happened."
+
+However, before the little girl could calm herself enough to tell
+the story, the ayah began it for her.
+
+"Baby woke early from her nap to-day, Memsahib, and would not go to
+sleep again and so I dressed her and brought her down for her bread
+and milk. She ate it like the good little girl that she is and so I
+gave her a piece of cake. I had just turned to put the plate back in
+the cupboard, when I heard a scrambling noise behind me and there
+was a monkey. He grabbed the cake from baby's hand and ran up a
+tree, chattering. He was a great, big fellow, the biggest one I ever
+saw. He looked very fierce and chattered terribly. Of course baby
+was frightened most to death and she ran at once for you." The ayah
+looked fearfully over her shoulder. "I'm afraid to go back there
+again myself."
+
+"Hush, ayah!" whispered the mother over the child's head. "Don't
+frighten her any more. And you were giving her cake, too, when I
+have told you that she must not have any for a few days now as she
+really hasn't been feeling very well."
+
+"Oh, mother!" interrupted the child, who had got the better of her
+sobs. "The monkey looked so ugly and grabbed the cake right out of
+my hand just as I was going to take a bite. His paw almost touched
+my face. Will he come again?"
+
+"No, dear," replied the mother as she hugged the little girl close
+in her arms. "Father comes home to-night. We will tell him and he
+will send the monkeys away. Something has got to be done, for we
+cannot have the naughty monkeys stealing our baby's food right out
+of her mouth," she added playfully.
+
+"Look, dear," she said in a moment to the child whose fright was
+soon over. "See how your curls are mussed! And, dearie," she looked
+at the little girl very reproachfully, "you ran all the way around
+in the sun without your topi. Go into the house now and let ayah fix
+your hair and wash your face. Then you can come out again and we
+will watch for father together, for he will surely come soon. Won't
+it be nice to have father home again?" And she kissed the child as
+she set her down on the floor. "A week isn't very long, but it seems
+a month since he went away this time."
+
+"Yes, the naughty monkeys have been so bad!" nodded the little girl
+as she hopped along into the bungalow before her native nurse,
+forgetful of her fear, for her father was coming home and he was to
+her omnipotent. Nothing, not even a monkey, could harm her while he
+was near.
+
+For a moment after the child had gone, the mother remained standing
+by one of the veranda pillars, looking down the road in the
+direction of the railway station. But soon she retreated to a chair
+near the door, for the branches of the biggest tree near the porch
+had begun to sway and she could see distinctly at least one pair of
+bright eyes peering out from among the shining green leaves.
+
+"Something must be done!" she said aloud as she sank into the chair,
+at the same time instinctively taking up in her hand a paper weight
+which lay on the table beside her. "We just cannot stand being thus
+bothered and frightened by these animals, and such horrid looking
+ones too!"
+
+The Burbanks had been in Sindabad only two weeks and had scarcely
+got settled in their bungalow when Mr. Burbanks had been called away
+on business. He had felt very secure about leaving his family
+because of the location of their new home which was about half a
+mile from the native city and very close to the other few European
+residences. To him the bungalow had appeared to be far enough away
+from the native quarter to be free from all unpleasant sights,
+odours, and visitors, the usual unpleasant associations of too close
+proximity to one of the sacred cities of India. Disagreeable sounds
+he had expected they would hear, for the hideous sounds, especially
+of night in a Hindu city, carry far. But after a residence of five
+years in India he did not think his family would be particularly
+annoyed by them.
+
+So Mr. Burbanks had been perfectly satisfied with his new residence
+and its location until just before he left he and his wife had been
+obliged to drive through the native city on some errand. It had been
+with great disgust that they had seen the filth of the place, the
+usual filth of a native city, but here augmented by a horde of
+hideous monkeys that, unrestrained, wandered about the streets, over
+the houses, in and out of the windows, apparently the most respected
+denizens of this most holy city. To kill a monkey is a most heinous
+sin in the eyes of a Hindu! Did not Haunamon and his monkeys help
+the great god Ram and rescue his wife Sita when she had been carried
+off by his rival? Besides, these animals are surely some Hindu's
+beloved dead. Therefore no one in Sindabad ever touched or harmed a
+monkey. When, however, the creatures got so thick that life became
+unendurable, the people would entice a crowd of them into a great
+basket and carry them off to the forest and let them loose there.
+But this did not happen often, because the native of India will put
+up with well-nigh unendurable conditions rather than break through
+established custom and perform an unusual task.
+
+As they had looked upon the monkey-infested city, Mrs. Burbanks had
+wondered aloud if the animals would venture as far as their
+bungalow, but her husband had assured her that they were much too
+far from the city and the bazaars for that. But the sight of the
+animals had taken off the keen edge of their satisfaction in their
+new home and womanlike Mrs. Burbanks had worried about the matter
+until a week had passed without the appearance of any such company
+in the compound. Then she had felt better and both of them had
+forgotten all about the monkeys. However, the very next morning
+after her husband's departure a strange running and jumping on the
+roof had awakened Mrs. Burbanks, who, peering cautiously from the
+window of her roof-bedroom, a room which the most fortunate of
+India's foreign residents consider a requisite of their bungalows
+for the hot weather, she had seen a couple of big monkeys sporting
+across the roof. And from that moment it had kept up: monkeys here;
+monkeys there; monkeys everywhere, poking their inquisitive fingers
+and noses into everything in the compound except the house itself.
+Into the house they had not ventured and even on the verandas the
+family had felt secure from intrusion until now; but now one had
+actually jumped into the rear veranda and stolen a piece of cake
+from Marjory's hand.
+
+"This is too much! Something must be done!" said Mrs. Burbanks again
+aloud but in a more decided tone, as she saw three of the brown
+creatures playing tag across the rose-bed.
+
+Just then the sound of horses' feet upon the road came to her ears;
+the monkeys vanished; and Mrs. Burbanks forgot her annoyance in
+greeting her husband as he drove up in a covered gari, shunning the
+light even of the setting sun.
+
+Mr. Burbanks looked tired as he superintended the carrying in of his
+luggage and the paying of the gariwala, who, of course, tried to
+insist upon a larger fare than the correct one handed him. He seemed
+glad to stretch out at once in a big chair and take a cup of tea
+from his wife's hand, while he listened drowsily to her account of
+the happenings of the week of separation. Little Marjory came out
+for her petting soon and clambered upon the arm of his chair.
+Smoothing his hair, she wove admiring remarks upon her father's
+appearance and her gladness at his return into an account of her
+recent experience with the monkey.
+
+"Father dear," she said, turning his head with a chubby hand on each
+side of his chin. "Father dear, I'm so glad you have come home. Now
+you must look right at me for I've something very 'portant to tell
+you. Father, a monkey"--her eyes got big and round, "a monkey jumped
+down from the tree---- Oh, father! What funny eyes you've got!" and
+she stopped her story with a little squeal to look at his eyes which
+he had made very round in imitation of her own when she had
+mentioned the monkey. Then not satisfied with just looking at such
+"funny" eyes, Marjory pulled them up at the corners to see how they
+would look that way. After a moment's critical survey, she shook her
+head and went on with her story. "The monkey jumped down from a
+tree. Ayah had just given me a piece of cake and---- Why, father,
+what a pretty necktie you've got! I never saw that one before." With
+pats and pulls she spent some time endeavouring to arrange the
+"pretty necktie" before going on with her story. "And,"--she began
+again with a lingering look at her last twist at the tie, "that
+monkey jumped down from the tree right at me and grabbed my cake and
+ran away."
+
+She paused again and inspected her sleepy looking father. "I
+b'lieve," she said as her eye ran slowly up and down her father's
+white-clad figure, "I b'lieve I'd like monkeys better if they wore
+white. Do monkeys ride on railway trains? Did they keep you awake
+last night as they did mother? You look so sleepy, father dear, that
+I am sure they did."
+
+Mr. Burbanks, somewhat awakened by the incongruous remarks of his
+daughter, laughed and said, "I've never met a monkey on a railway
+train yet. But weren't you afraid of the one you saw?"
+
+"Oh, yes. I cried and ran to mother but I'm not afraid any more now
+for mother said you wouldn't let them hurt me." And Marjory cuddled
+down in his arms.
+
+"See, there is one in that tree there now and I'm not afraid," she
+said after a moment and, raising her head from his arm, pointed
+towards a tree a little to the right, where was a large monkey
+jumping from bough to bough with a tiny baby monkey clinging
+fearlessly beneath her.
+
+The father and the little girl watched the monkey and her baby with
+great interest until the ayah came and took Marjory in to bed.
+
+Throughout dinner and the evening Mrs. Burbanks told of their
+troubles with the monkeys during her husband's absence and urged him
+to do something to drive them away.
+
+But at the close of the evening all the satisfaction she received
+was this very masculine reply to all of her urgings: "You are simply
+nervous over them. I don't believe they will do any harm. In fact
+they seem to me to be rather interesting creatures. That one out
+there on the lawn this afternoon appeared perfectly harmless and
+playful. Besides they are sacred animals and we might make the
+Hindus very angry if we should touch them." And with a yawn Mr.
+Burbanks started for bed.
+
+When Mrs. Burbanks saw that all of her conversation had not
+impressed her husband with the urgency of the situation, unusual
+woman that she was, she said no more, but wisely left the matter to
+time. Even when they were awakened at an early hour the next
+morning, she did not say a word, but listened with relish to the
+remarks which issued from the curtained bed beside her own.
+
+Since Mr. Burbanks' departure his wife had paid no attention to his
+office, as her servants could be trusted to keep things clean and in
+order. Therefore, when he came to her a little later in the morning
+with complaints about the condition of his desk, she was extremely
+annoyed. His inkstand had been tipped over; his blotting-pad was
+torn; his pens were lying scattered about the room; and the books on
+the table were all in confusion. The servants declared that all had
+been in perfect order the night before. The ayah said that Marjory
+had not entered the room. So Mrs. Burbanks, after inspecting the
+strange confusion, was about to leave the room in perplexity when
+she chanced to glance at one of the high windows. Quickly, with a
+smile upon her lips and a twinkle in her eye, she motioned to her
+husband to come from the veranda where he had retired after finding
+the disorder in his study. His eyes followed hers to the window and
+there he saw a monkey watching them intently from the small window
+sill.
+
+"Don't stare at him or he may spring at you," cautioned Mrs.
+Burbanks. "Monkeys are just the opposite to most animals. You cannot
+treat one or control him in the same way, for it angers him to have
+you look him in the eye. The servants all tell me that."
+
+As they turned away, the bearer entered the room. To his wife's
+amusement, Mr. Burbanks addressed him fretfully. "Boy, can't you
+drive these monkeys away? They are beginning to be a nuisance."
+
+"Me touch a monkey!" The usually obedient boy raised his hands in
+horror.
+
+During the dialogue the monkey had scuttled away. So the high window
+was closed by the long bamboo pole, for--"The monkeys must be kept
+out even if the ventilation is interfered with," said the head of
+the house.
+
+After breakfast the post brought a package of home letters and,
+although it was the middle of the morning, Mr. Burbanks took a while
+off, after his week of strenuous work, to listen to home news. He
+laid himself in a comfortable chair preparatory to listening to his
+wife's reading, for he always preferred to hear her comments and
+exclamations as she read aloud than to read the letters himself.
+Mrs. Burbanks seated herself at the table beside him and, although a
+young woman, put out her hand to take up the reading glasses which
+invariably lay by her sewing basket.
+
+"Why, my glasses aren't here!" she exclaimed in a tone of annoyance.
+
+A search followed but no glasses could be found. After a while, in
+despair, Mrs. Burbanks handed the letters to her husband and
+prepared to be herself the listener, a situation which neither
+really enjoyed. But scarcely had Mr. Burbanks reached the second
+page of the first letter when an exclamation of surprise from his
+wife stopped the reading and he found her looking with laughing eyes
+at a spot high up on the wall. There, hanging by the bows from the
+moulding, were the spectacles. With one voice the two exclaimed: "A
+monkey!"
+
+The boy was called and the spectacles were soon rescued from the
+dangerous place where they had evidently been hung with great care,
+for they were uninjured.
+
+Although this was but a trifling incident, Mr. Burbanks was
+disturbed by the impertinence of the "ugly beasts." But his wife
+made no comments on the encounters of the morning, going on with her
+work in silence, although she had to hang her head to hide her
+smiling lips at some of his muttered remarks when he returned from
+an attempt to clear up the papers on his office desk. One valuable
+document was badly blotted with ink and a letter of the greatest
+importance he had been able to read only after patching together the
+torn bits gathered from the rug.
+
+Mr. Burbanks was plainly annoyed but his annoyance grew to fear in
+the early afternoon when, in passing by the dining-room door, he
+happened to look in. Marjory had slipped into her mother's chair and
+with a big napkin around her neck was about to eat a luscious guava
+which lay on the plate before her. Mr. Burbanks was just on the
+point of calling out something in play to his little daughter, when
+a quick motion on the wall behind her attracted his attention.
+Afraid to move or speak for fear of bringing greater danger to the
+child, the father watched in silence. An immense monkey slid down
+the wall and jumped into the chair beside the little girl, with his
+eye on the fruit before her. The child, frightened, shooed with her
+handkerchief at the beast, who, turning his eyes upon her, showed
+his teeth and snarled. The man held his breath; but the child,
+shoving the plate of fruit towards the animal quickly slipped from
+her chair and ran, unharmed, out of the room. In a second the monkey
+had seized the guava and was gone through the high window.
+
+That was the last straw. No one could live in such danger! Mr.
+Burbanks went back to his study and called the boy, but he did not
+tell his wife what he had seen.
+
+"Can you drive the monkeys away?" he asked the boy again.
+
+"Me no touch monkeys. Me afraid. Monkeys belong gods," was the reply
+he received.
+
+The gentleman could see that no help was to be had from his servants
+and he realized that he himself must move cautiously or he might
+bring the wrath of the Hindu city upon him. Therefore he thought the
+matter over carefully and decided that first of all after it had
+become dark he would fire off his pistol and perhaps frighten the
+monkeys away without harming them. So, as soon as night had come and
+all were in bed, he told his wife what he intended to do. She was
+overjoyed at his quick conversion to her views, for she did not know
+even then of Marjory's experience, as the child, soon forgetting it
+in her play, had not mentioned it to her mother.
+
+Mr. Burbanks stepped out upon the roof and after a moment's pause
+fired his pistol into a clump of trees at a little distance from the
+bungalow. A sharp, shrill, almost human cry came from the tree and
+then all was still. Even the chokidar, already asleep, did not seem
+to have heard the shot.
+
+"Well, I've killed one, I guess," Mr. Burbanks said as he came back
+into the room. "That is too bad! I hope the natives won't mind. But
+it is over now and we need not worry. If they do make a fuss we will
+just have to face the music, that's all. Probably it will drive the
+animals away effectually, if one of them is killed. I most sincerely
+hope so."
+
+There was quiet throughout the night, although Mrs. Burbanks lay
+awake listening for trouble as women will. But in the early morning,
+just as she had at last fallen into a light sleep, they were both
+awakened by the usual noise of running and jumping on the roof. With
+an exclamation of great annoyance Mr. Burbanks sprang up and opened
+the shutters of the door. He stood there in silence for a minute
+before he spoke again and then he called his wife softly to come and
+look out. There, on the roof, stood a female monkey and before her
+lay a tiny, baby monkey, dead, with a hole in its breast. The mother
+patted it with her paw; she stroked it; then she ran around it and
+jumped up and down as if to attract its attention. Then she took it
+up and put its arms about her and started to spring away, evidently
+expecting it to cling beneath her as it had always done; but the
+little thing fell limply back upon the roof. Again and again the
+mother tried, with the infinite patience of a mother. But finally,
+with a cry of despair, she picked the baby up in her arms and,
+squatting down, rocked to and fro, moaning and moaning. The servant,
+bringing up the chota hazri, made a noise at the foot of the stairs.
+The monkey, with an almost human look of woe, glanced around at the
+sound and the Burbanks, watching from the shuttered door, saw the
+agonized expression on her face, as she sprang to her feet and with
+the dead baby still clasped tightly in her arms leaped away among
+the tree tops.
+
+With tears in her eyes Mrs. Burbanks turned to her husband. "You
+won't shoot another, will you?"
+
+"No, my dear, we'll move before I use the gun again. But it seemed
+to be a choice between her baby and mine and, of course, I am glad
+that it was hers," Mr. Burbanks replied. Then he told his wife of
+Marjory's experience.
+
+But the Burbanks did not have to move, for the monkeys disappeared.
+Since her parents never told Marjory why they had gone, she watched
+for them for a long time and ate her cakes in haste lest "a naughty
+monkey might snatch 'em."
+
+One day a short time after their disappearance Marjory received a
+present from her father of a little black dog. When she playfully
+asked him why he had bought her the dog, expecting that he would say
+because she had been such a good girl, he said, "Because monkeys are
+afraid of dogs."
+
+"Why, how funny!" she exclaimed. "You bought me a mongoose because
+snakes are afraid of mongooses and now I have a dog because monkeys
+are afraid of dogs. What pet will you buy me next, father dear?"
+
+"I will have to live in India a little longer before I can answer
+that question, my daughter." And, wondering what unexpected danger
+would next assail his child in this strange land, he swung her up on
+his shoulder and, as it was sunset, carried her tenderly into the
+house to her waiting ayah, followed by the dog--a tiny, but
+sufficient guard against the encroachments of the tribe of
+Haunamon.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+In Ways Mysterious
+
+
+I
+
+The bare audience room of old Boyle Avenue Church was almost empty;
+only a few of those who had been present at the afternoon service
+still lingered, one little knot by the door, another near the altar
+rail. This is not the church where the real Europeans meet to
+worship God, you know, nor is it even one of the worshipping places
+of the semi-European population of Bombay. It is the oldest building
+of our mission property and belongs to our native church. It is,
+therefore, all the church home to-day that three separate
+congregations can boast, our Marathi, Gujarati, and Hindustani
+congregations.
+
+It is a big, barn-like building situated in a thickly populated part
+of the city which, just now, is largely occupied by Parsis. But
+although it is old and bare and far away from most of our native
+converts, they travel the long distances from their various quarters
+and attend its services faithfully.
+
+[Illustration: "I have a beautiful wife, as fair as your own,
+Sahib"]
+
+I tell you my heart glowed that afternoon as I sat upon the platform
+and saw that room filled to overflowing. Not only were the wooden
+benches crowded, but people sat in the aisles and stood around the
+walls. Our Sunday afternoon congregation is usually just the
+Marathis only, and does not occupy more than a third of the room,
+but this day it was a union service of all our people to be
+conducted in two languages only, as the Marathi and Hindustani
+languages are near enough alike to be intelligible to both. And why
+was this great meeting held? That was what thrilled me I suppose and
+broke me all up so that when it came my turn to speak, I really just
+couldn't and stood there like a big baby and cried. But the folk
+were kind to me and joined me in my tears and when all I could
+falter was, "Good-bye, God bless you all!" they just fell upon their
+knees and such prayers went up for my speedy restoration to health
+and return to India that by the time we rose from our knees I felt
+better already.
+
+They did not ask me to say anything more from the platform, but at
+the close of the service men, women, and children gathered about me
+for a last personal word. You see my health had failed because of
+the climate of Northwest India and because of the burdens that each
+of our missionaries has to bear (this isn't complaint, but just
+fact) and so I had been ordered home. That part wasn't bad, for the
+prospects of seeing home again, that meant America, looked pretty
+good to me! Think of seeing a snow-bank after the one hundred and
+twenty degrees in the shade in which I had scorched for years! Think
+of drinking cool, unboiled water right from the tap, and all you
+wanted of it! Think of being able to eat fresh, uncooked vegetables
+without fear of cholera! Think of being able to do all those things
+which are so delectable at home but so foolhardy in India! The going
+home part was all right but the part that wasn't all right---- It's
+hard to talk about that part. The doctors said that I probably could
+never go back to India! Never go back to India again! Never go back
+to the people and work I loved! I tell you it took all the manhood I
+had to meet that blow with a smiling face and turn the other cheek.
+
+But I started to tell you, not about myself at all, but about Shama
+Bhana. As I sat on the platform that afternoon I singled out his
+face among those of the men standing by the windows at the right
+nearest the altar. Shama Bhana is a Brahmin and when I have said
+that I have told you that he is a man of proud, distinguished
+appearance and with an intellectual capacity of the highest order
+that India boasts. I have neglected to say that Shama Bhana is a
+rich Brahmin.
+
+I had known this man for several years and we were good friends. I
+had talked religion with him by the hour and I felt that he believed
+in Christ and in our faith. But I had never been able to bring him
+one inch, as it seemed to me, towards forsaking his old faith and
+accepting ours publicly. As I saw his face there that afternoon and
+knew that he had come to say good-bye to me, perhaps forever, I
+longed to hear him confess Christ before I left India. I longed to
+know that he had thrown his wonderful powers upon the side of our
+warfare in that country where his influence would be so great.
+
+The meeting came to an end at last and the crowd that had gathered
+to say good-bye to the sahib and to wish him "Godspeed" had done so
+and were gone to their homes, all but two little companies of people
+still gathered in the church, as I have said before.
+
+In all my farewells I kept my eye on Shama Bhana and I noticed that
+he was still in the little group by the door. Finally I managed to
+separate myself from the company near the altar rail and started
+towards the door. Shama Bhana did not come to meet me but I saw him
+step a little aside from the others as if giving me a chance to
+speak to him privately. I availed myself of the opportunity at once.
+
+I went directly to him, holding out my hand, and, Brahmin though he
+was, he took it, his eyes full of tears.
+
+"Sahib, it breaks our hearts to have you go," he said simply.
+
+"Shama Bhana," I replied, "it breaks my heart to go without having
+heard you confess the name of Jesus Christ, our Lord and Saviour."
+
+He looked at me without a start or quiver just as if he had been
+expecting me to say that very thing. "Shama Bhana," I went on,
+looking straight into his face and into his eyes, which steadily
+returned my look, "Shama Bhana, you do believe in Jesus Christ, do
+you not?"
+
+"Sahib, no longer will I refuse to answer that question to you,
+since you are going away from us, perhaps forever. Sahib, I believe
+in Jesus Christ. There is nothing in Hinduism or Brahminism that can
+compare with His life and character. There is nothing that can
+compare with His teachings. I believe in God, the Father, and in
+Jesus Christ, the Son; and I love them, as you, Sahib, have taught
+me to do."
+
+My heart swelled with joy and gratitude.
+
+"Then will you confess your faith and your love?" I asked him,
+hoping that I might see him baptized before I sailed for I coveted
+him for the work in Bombay.
+
+His face clouded. "That, Sahib, I cannot do. I have confessed to
+you, knowing that you will not tell what I have told you here in
+India. But I cannot acknowledge my faith to any one else."
+
+Could it be that I had put too great confidence in this man's
+courage and strength? I was disappointed but I could scarcely credit
+my own disappointment and I probed deeper.
+
+"Is it that you fear to lose your material possessions, Shama Bhana,
+that you fail to claim the spiritual ones?" I asked him.
+
+He drew himself up and looked at me in righteous scorn. "Yes, if I
+should confess my belief in Christ, I would lose my wealth, and it
+is great; but what would I care for that! I am young. I am strong. I
+could earn my way and my family would not starve. No, Sahib, it is
+not the fear of the loss of money that hinders me." But as he saw
+the troubled look upon my face, he added, "I will tell all, Sahib,
+and then you yourself shall judge if I could act otherwise.
+
+"Sahib, I have a mother. You have never seen her for you cannot
+enter our homes as your wives can, but the memsahib has met her.
+That mother knows that I have talked long and earnestly with you.
+She knows that I have read much of the doctrine. She knows, too,
+that I no longer make offerings to the idols, and she fears that my
+heart inclines to this new creed. Sahib, my mother a short time ago
+took me out into our courtyard and pointed to the well that is in
+the middle of the square. She said to me, 'Shama Bhana, my son, the
+day you become a Christian, that day I will throw myself down that
+well.' And, Sahib, she would do it!"
+
+And I knew that she would. I could say nothing. I could only look at
+him with love and sympathy in my heart.
+
+"And, Sahib, that is not all," he continued. "I have a beautiful
+wife and a son, as fair as your own, Sahib. I love my wife. I love
+my son. But, Sahib, the day I confess Christ publicly these two,
+whom I love more than life, will be taken from me and I shall never
+see them again.
+
+"Sahib, would Jesus Christ wish me to cause the suicide of my mother
+and the separation from me forever of my wife and child? It is these
+two things and these only that keep me from public confession and
+baptism."
+
+I could answer nothing. I could only hold his hand and say, "Pray,
+Shama Bhana; Christ alone can tell you your duty. And He will make
+it plain to you, if you leave it all to Him. I will pray for you too
+as long as I live or, if it may please God to permit it, until I see
+you again here in Bombay."
+
+With the hand-clasp of brothers we parted: he, a Christian in heart
+but a Brahmin by profession, went home to his wife and boy and the
+old mother, strong in her faith; and I came to the homeland. I
+haven't told you his real name nor can I and keep faith with him,
+for, although Bombay is thousands of miles away, words when once
+spoken may travel far. But I have told you a true story. May I add a
+happy conclusion to at least one part of the theme? I am going back
+to India! Thank God! My health has been restored. When I reach
+Bombay shall I find Shama Bhana still a Brahmin or a confessed
+follower of Christ? That is the question that is on my heart.
+
+
+II
+
+Well, well, well! To think that I should actually have you with me
+here in Bombay! Why, I can hardly believe it is real! Don't I look
+well and strong? That doctor at home almost worked miracles for me
+with his medicines. My, but it's good to be back in the harness
+again! The pull has to be long and steady and sometimes the straps
+rub or the collar galls or the load drags heavily, but it's great
+work. I am keeping well, too, and I'm happier than three years ago I
+thought I would ever be again in this world.
+
+What, man, you've only one day to give me in Bombay? And then you've
+got to race on or that business venture will fall through! Oh,
+these globe-encircling Americans who try to see the world and its
+sight as do birds on the wing! Why, this is only an aggravation,
+Dick! I'd almost rather you wouldn't have come at all than to give
+me just one day.
+
+No, you aren't going back either! You know that I didn't really mean
+what I said, for just the sight of your face has done me a world of
+good already and before the day is over I will show you some sights
+which I dare say will do your heart good. But in the meantime, I
+warn you, I shall talk every minute of the time to make up for all
+the days that I can't have you.
+
+Let me see--we'll go first to visit our day-schools and call upon
+our preachers; then we'll drop into Boyle Avenue Church for a
+prayer-meeting; then we'll go to see Shama Bhana; and this evening
+I'll take you to a street service. It all sounds prosaic, perhaps,
+because I've used hackneyed American terms, but for a man who has
+been but one day in India there won't be anything prosaic about it.
+
+Do you remember, Dick, what I told you men back home last year about
+Shama Bhana, the man we're going to see this afternoon?
+
+It will be quite a long story to tell you how it came out but I
+will, for we've got quite a little car ride ahead of us to reach
+Parel where we are going first to see such a school as you never
+laid eyes on before, half-naked children in a palm-leaf hut. But let
+me tell you, those children know more Scripture than your boy and
+girl do, I am sure.
+
+Well, about Shama Bhana. You know I told you that before I left for
+home he had confessed to me privately that he believed in Christ but
+he could not be baptized because his mother threatened to commit
+suicide on the day he should become a Christian and because on that
+same day his wife and child would be taken from him forever. All I
+could do was to tell him to continue in prayer and that God would
+lead him.
+
+About six months after I had left Bombay, very suddenly Shama
+Bhana's mother died. That very day, before the funeral rites had
+been performed, Shama Bhana appeared at Deal's door and asked for
+baptism. Of course Deal did not know much about the case, as his
+work is largely with the Marathis; so he had to go all over the
+situation with the Brahmin and make proof of his belief and
+sincerity.
+
+His belief seemed genuine and when it came to a proof of his
+sincerity, Shama Bhana told his story. "Now my mother is dead," he
+concluded. "I could not come before, for it would have been murder
+and that is forbidden in the Bible. She died but an hour ago and I
+came at once."
+
+"Will you lose your property now?" asked Deal.
+
+"Oh, yes. I will not have an anna above what I now carry in my
+purse. But that is no hardship."
+
+"Will they turn you out of the household at once?" Deal went on,
+needlessly probing deeper into the fresh wounds in the man's heart,
+but poor Deal did not seem to understand.
+
+"That is practically done already, Sahib," the Brahmin answered. "As
+soon as I heard that my mother was dead this morning, I kissed my
+wife and baby good-bye while they still slept and came to you, for I
+know that when I return they will be withheld from my sight and I
+shall never see them more." Shama Bhana was overcome for a moment,
+Deal said, and then he went on quietly. "Christ says that whoever
+will not leave wife and child for His sake is not worthy of Him. I
+could not bring them with me for you know the way the Hindu
+oftentimes takes vengeance; for a few days all would have gone well;
+then suddenly they would have sickened and died a mysterious death.
+Sahib, I love them too well to bring death to them and so I left
+them. Indeed, I have left all for Christ, Sahib. Will you not
+baptize me?"
+
+Deal baptized him at once and then asked what he could do to help
+him.
+
+Shama Bhana replied, "Nothing, thank you kindly, Sahib. I will find
+work at once. I will not starve. Yes, Sahib, there is something you
+can do for me. Pray! Pray that some day I may get my wife and child
+back again."
+
+Then Shama Bhana went away. He was a rich man, the son of great
+possessions, as I have told you. The news of his baptism spread fast
+and the fury of his father was unrestrained. Shama Bhana was
+declared to be dead and his effigy was burned with his mother's body
+on the funeral pyre. His wife was proclaimed a widow and treated as
+such; her head was shaved and her jewels and beautiful garments were
+taken from her.
+
+But Shama Bhana's Brahmin training stood him in good stead, for he
+went on his way apparently unmoved by all the indignities that were
+being heaped upon him and his. He is a remarkably bright man and so
+without much difficulty, for he procured it the very day of his
+baptism, he got a fair position as clerk in a big English office in
+the city. His family later did everything they could to get him
+ousted, by fair means and foul, but he had proved his worth before
+they began their work against him and so he was kept.
+
+That was the situation I found when I returned from America. At my
+request Shama Bhana came to live with me, but we saw little of each
+other, for every moment when he was not in the office he was out
+preaching or teaching and with power. But in the brief intervals
+that I did see him I knew that his heart was sore. I had left my own
+family in America, you know, and he would look at their picture upon
+my dresser. "Your wife is a Christian," he would say. "And you will
+probably see them again in a couple of years. But my wife is a Hindu
+widow!" Then he would turn at once into his own room and I knew he
+had gone to his knees in prayer. I would pray, too, both for him and
+his and for my own. Though his case was, of course, immeasurably
+harder than mine, still I thought I was pretty badly off with
+thousands of miles of ocean rolling between my family and me and
+with no definite knowledge as to when we would see each other again,
+for the kiddies must be educated, you know.
+
+Well, what if I am blowing my nose violently! Man, they aren't here
+yet and what's more, they aren't coming for another year.
+
+Well,--then came the pestilence; not the plague or the cholera or
+any of those Asiatic diseases which you folk over there hear so much
+about and really know so little of; but the plain smallpox with
+which you are at least so familiar that you run away as soon as you
+hear the word pronounced. The smallpox is usually with us here,
+more or less, all the time; but somehow this season it was here in
+tenfold fury. It swept over the city, but was worst in the section
+where Shama Bhana's family lived. Several of our native church
+workers had tried in vain to get entrance into his house since the
+trouble had happened, but now they walked right in and took
+possession unhindered, for the father himself and every member of
+the family were down with the disease and the servants had all fled.
+Shama Bhana's wife, whom they found in a dark chamber in the
+servants' quarters, had the worst form of the disease because of the
+hunger and ill treatment she had suffered since she had become a
+mock-widow. Shama Bhana who had given up his place at the office as
+soon as he heard of the situation came at once to his wife's side,
+for there was no one to object. And as day after day our faithful
+Hindustani preacher and his wife worked over that household, they
+preached Christ as they worked whenever a mind was free enough from
+pain to receive the message.
+
+Three of the sons died, but the rest of the family soon began to
+show signs of recovery. The old father, since his case had been the
+lightest, as he had been vaccinated once years before in an English
+hospital, recovered first. As he, in his weakness, lay and watched
+the loving ministrations of the two Christians and listened to
+their words, his heart seemed to be touched.
+
+"Why do you do all this for me?" he asked one day. "Are you immune?"
+
+The preacher's wife stood nearest him and she replied, "I have had
+the disease but my husband never has. We are doing it for Christ's
+sake, you know."
+
+Later he called the preacher to him. "Where is Shama Bhana?" he
+whispered. "Has he had it yet?"
+
+The preacher replied, "He is here just now with his wife who is very
+ill. The night that you were the worst he spent at your side. He has
+not had the awful disease yet. Shall I call him to you?"
+
+The preacher wondered how his words would be received and feared
+that a violent rage would bring back the old man's fever. But he
+only smiled faintly and to the question shook his head and said, "It
+is the wrath of Shama Bhana's God."
+
+He steadfastly refused to see his son and yet he did not seem to be
+angry nor did he order him from the home. In a few days when his
+strength had returned nearly in full measure, he called the preacher
+to him again and asked him to walk with him through the house. So,
+leaning on the patient preacher's arm, he went from room to room.
+In every room with his feeble hands he tore down every sign of
+Hinduism. The gods he took himself from their shelves and ordered
+them to be thrown into the well. When all the rooms except the
+servants' quarters had been thus cleared he turned to the amazed
+pastor and said:
+
+"Now call my son Shama Bhana and let me be baptized in his presence,
+for now I believe as he has taught me and from now on we will stand
+as Christians together and our household shall be a Christian
+household."
+
+But when the preacher went to summon Shama Bhana and to tell him the
+good news, he found that young man on the floor beside his wife's
+cot burning with a high fever and showing every symptom of the dread
+disease. So the baptismal service was postponed while they worked to
+save Shama Bhana's life. Two days later the pastor himself came
+down. But as soon as I learned that the old man had been converted I
+went at once to Shama Bhana. Before very long we had there a
+household of well people, and such a happy household! Words cannot
+describe it.
+
+And so together since that time Shama Bhana, his father, and not of
+less importance, his wife, have faced the Hinduism of Bombay in a
+small but solid phalanx for Christ. The influence of the conversion
+of that rich, strong Brahmin family has been marvellous, as you can
+imagine, and is increasing every day.
+
+We will go there this afternoon and see them all. Even Shama Bhana's
+wife will greet you, for there is no purdah in that home now and she
+will meet you as modestly, graciously, and courteously as any lady
+in America. God's ways are wonderful, aren't they? But the most
+wonderful thing about it all in my mind is that He always lets us
+poor, insignificant men help in bringing His ways to pass. Had our
+simple, faithful Hindustani pastor and his wife not been willing to
+risk their lives for their love for Christ, probably Shama Bhana's
+father would still be a Brahmin, his wife, most likely, dead, and
+Shama Bhana himself still an outcast.
+
+These are the romances of our work and they serve to throw out
+against the dark background of Hindustani life and social customs
+the capacity of our Hindu cousins for an appreciative interpretation
+of the Oriental Christ and their willingness to share His life of
+heroic sacrifice on behalf of others. The humblest of them
+frequently rises to acts of great courage and chivalry.
+
+[Illustration: "The humblest of them frequently rises to acts of
+great courage and chivalry"]
+
+Well, here we are! You didn't just expect to see grass huts under
+palm trees as a suburb of the great city of Bombay, did you? And
+there are the children gathered around the door of the schoolhouse
+waiting for us. Aren't they beauties? Hadn't you better take a
+picture of them to show to your boy at home? Their dress isn't
+exactly American in style, that is true; but it is comfortable, if
+it is rather exaggerated in abbreviation.
+
+Salaam, boys! Salaam! Salaam!
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+The Way to Happiness
+
+
+With a shrill whistle and a clanging of her engine bell, the train
+for Calcutta pulled into the station at M----. "Coolie, coolie!"
+with a decided accent on the second syllable, came the well-known
+call as scantily-clothed men, falling in beside the train, ran from
+the end of the platform to the station entrance, with hands upon the
+first and second-class carriage doors, lest other coolies might get
+the jobs of carrying the heavy trunks and earn the anna or two anna
+bits that they might have had.
+
+With a cloth about the loins for decency's sake and a turban on the
+head as a pad for heavy boxes, otherwise naked, the brown coolie
+took possession of the upper class compartments and in a minute or
+so scores of them were filing away through the station with heads
+laden with trunks, boxes, hat-boxes, rolls of bedding, lunch-baskets,
+baskets of fruit, and every conceivable sort of parcel that an
+Anglo-Indian or a tourist carries with him in the compartment of an
+Indian train; for, although luggage vans are run on these trains, the
+charge for excess luggage is so great that people crowd as much under
+the seats, on the seats, and over the seats as possible. As an
+individual rarely travels with less than ten parcels the platform
+swarmed with carriers.
+
+While the first and second class passengers in topis and linen suits
+were thus being taken out of their carriages and a fresh lot, also
+in topis and linen, were being put in, in no undue haste, for all
+Indian trains stop fifteen minutes everywhere; while that end of the
+platform, therefore, was in comparative calm, the other end where
+the third-class carriages stood was in an uproar.
+
+Railroad travel is cheaper nowhere in the world than in India. The
+traveller can ride in a compartment for twelve persons by day, six
+by night, on leather cushions, with toilet conveniences including
+even a shower bath at close hand, for the matter of one cent a mile;
+or he can pay about two cents a mile and ride on cushions a little
+softer, with a trifle more floor space for stacking his bird-cages
+and bandboxes and with furnishings a little glossier--first class;
+or he can have a ride for almost nothing, if he will be content to
+herd with the natives in a coach with wooden seats, a coach that
+accommodates from twenty to fifty, the number depending on the
+packing.
+
+Since the fare is so small and since the Hindu religion, as also
+the Mohammedan, teaches the efficacy of pilgrimages, the people now
+make their pilgrimages, as far as possible and wherever possible, by
+train. Their religions have thus so accustomed the natives to the
+trains that they seem to be always travelling. The richer ones may
+go first or second class. But the majority of them go third and,
+since the first person in gets the best seat in these third-class
+cars while others crowd in as long as there is an inch to spare,
+there is a mad scramble for first, second, third, fourth, and fifth
+place at the third-class carriage doors.
+
+So it was as the Calcutta train pulled into M----. Men with bundles
+and women with babies, more bundles, water jars, and bags of food
+swarmed into the third-class coaches. In a remarkably short time,
+however, the people who had wanted to get off were gone with their
+bundles, trailing women, and dangling children, and the lot going
+towards Calcutta had stowed away inside the carriages, on top of
+each other or anywhere that they could, their bundles, their
+clinging women, and their crying children; and still there were
+several minutes before time for the train to pull out. Then the
+through passengers, since, as the newcomers were settled, their own
+seats were secure, could get out upon the platform. A bearded
+Mohammedan with flowing robes and turbaned head, spreading a mat on
+the platform beside the car and slipping out of his shoes, knelt
+three times and said his prayers towards Mecca, unmindful of the
+crowd around him. At the hydrant a good Hindu carefully washed out
+his mouth preparatory to partaking of his noonday meal; while men of
+all castes walked up and down beside the cars, resting their cramped
+limbs. From the car windows many a braceleted arm reached out a
+brass water jar to be filled by the Mohammedan water-carrier. And at
+other windows Hindu women waited for the Hindu water-carrier to fill
+their jars so that they might have water for the journey.
+
+The sweetmeat venders were unusually busy, for it was just about
+noon and Indian sweets are to native Indians really a staple article
+of diet instead of a confection as in other countries. They are made
+of wholesome food stuffs; sometimes they are shaped like pretzels;
+sometimes, rolled into balls; sometimes, chopped into flakes. But
+all kinds are well liked and the boy, passing along the trainside
+with the flat basket of sweets upon his head, just in range of the
+carriage windows, was kept busy dealing out his wares until he had a
+light load left and a hand full of coppers. The baskets of the
+pretty green pan were also many packages lighter when the gong on
+the platform sounded.
+
+At the sound of the gong the through passengers scrambled back into
+their places; all but the Mohammedan faithful, who, having
+deliberately slipped his feet back into his shoes, carefully folded
+up his prayer mat, and with no loss of dignity climbed slowly into
+his compartment.
+
+The guard raised his hand.
+
+The train started.
+
+But in the ladies' compartment of the third class the confusion
+continued after the start, for three naked babies were climbing over
+their mothers and crying; an old woman was rummaging over her
+treasures which had been tied up in a white cloth and raising a wild
+lamentation because she had lost an anna; and two young beauties in
+gay saris, with jangling bracelets, clanking anklets, and flashing
+necklaces, were chewing pan very vigorously and chattering in shrill
+voices, displaying as they did so mouths most beautifully reddened
+with the pan juice and teeth most artistically blackened by the same
+delicacy.
+
+But after a short time the babies, either satisfied with their
+natural diet or at least appeased with cold chapatis or bits of
+sweets handed out by tired mothers, became quiet. The old woman,
+exhausted by her unavailing search and grief, was reduced to a quiet
+mumbling and a hopeless picking at her bundle. And the two young
+women became less noisy in a close comparing of jewels. There was
+enough of calm, therefore, so that the travellers could get a
+glimpse of each other and see what sort of company each was in.
+
+It was a motley crowd and one that broke many of the laws of caste.
+It showed plainly how much the railroad is doing to rid India of
+that curse. In one corner sat a Brahmin woman, distinguishable by
+the refined features of her class rather than the caste mark upon
+her forehead, but too poor for the greater privacy of a second
+compartment. Next to her, a proximity which would have broken her
+caste at one time, sat a Chumar woman. Next was a lady with the
+white head-cloth and one-coloured sari of the Parsi. And beside the
+Parsi was a tiny high caste girl, most bejewelled and bedecked,
+wearing the necklace which showed that although she was but eight or
+nine years old she was married. Evidently the child-wife was taking
+the journey with her mother-in-law, for the woman next beyond her,
+apparently of the same caste, would occasionally jerk the little
+girl into her seat and scold her roundly when she ventured to lean
+over to look out of the window.
+
+When the train approached a way-station, the blinds were drawn
+quickly lest a man should look upon the women within, for, although
+none of them were keeping purdah strictly, still most of these women
+were careful in public not to subject themselves unduly to the
+glances of men.
+
+As the blinds were lifted after the train left the first small
+station, the light disclosed, huddled into a far corner seat, a
+young woman wrapped in the coarsest of white garments, with scarcely
+an ornament upon her body and no caste mark upon her forehead. Her
+face was shaded by the sari which she had drawn close over her head,
+but out of the shadow peered a pair of sad, wistful eyes. Her face
+was thin and her hands, which clasped tightly upon her lap a
+carefully wrapped bundle, were thin and rough as if with toil. Her
+eyes were anxiously examining the faces in the carriage. At every
+unusual noise or sudden jolt, they would look frightened and she
+would clasp still more closely the bundle in her lap. It was a
+bundle about eighteen inches long, tied and double knotted most
+carefully in a piece of coarse but clean white cloth. The girl's
+white sari was also as clean as most Indian white clothes ever look,
+washed in dirty water and dried on the ground as they are. She was
+evidently on some important journey and, as evidently, for the first
+time on a train. The bundle which she carried would not have been
+noticeable among such a myriad of bundles as the carriage held, had
+she not guarded it so closely, and, when any one changed a seat or
+passed by her, shielded it with her arms.
+
+After comparative peace had reigned a little while, the frightened
+look left the young woman's eyes and, untying one corner of the
+bundle, which opening showed still another wrapping within, she drew
+out a cold chapati and ate it slowly as if to make it last a long
+time. As she ate, her eyes met those of a sociable looking, old,
+gray-haired woman, evidently of low caste, who, sitting opposite
+between two high caste women, was apparently longing to talk to some
+one. As their eyes met, the older woman leaned across the aisle and
+said to the young girl in Hindustani:
+
+"Where are you going?"
+
+The girl looked alarmed, as the question was addressed her, but
+answered timidly, "To Benares. Are you going there?"
+
+"No, but I am going almost as far as that. You see I have been ayah
+to master's little boy and they moved away and now they have sent
+for me to come and I am going to be his ayah again." The old woman's
+face beamed as she chattered. "I might have gone long ago when they
+went, for they always called me a fine ayah and always praised me to
+all of their guests, but when they moved away to Allahabad I did not
+want to leave my family. But my boy went off to the city
+and--and--my little girl died; so now I am glad to go." Her eyes had
+filled with tears as she said that her little girl had died and at
+the words the young woman involuntarily clutched at the bundle in
+her lap.
+
+Just then the Brahmin woman in the corner opposite got up to arrange
+her dress and moved about in the aisle so that the conversation was
+interrupted. And the two women got no further chance to talk until
+the train pulled into a station and some of the passengers getting
+out gave the old lady an opportunity to slip into the seat beside
+the girl.
+
+"Where are you from?" she asked, resuming the conversation at once.
+
+"From C----," the girl answered.
+
+"Are you a sweeper?" the old lady continued her catechism. "Do you
+work at it?" she went on without waiting for an answer. "There is
+lots of money in that work, isn't there? I never had to work at it,
+you know."
+
+The young girl looked at her frankly. "I don't think so. I got two
+annas a day."
+
+"Oh, my! I get ten rupees a month!"
+
+The girl opened her eyes in surprise. "And what do you do?" she
+questioned in return.
+
+"I am an ayah, I told you. All I have to do is to take care of the
+little boy. He is a dear, good boy. I dress him in the morning and
+give him his breakfast and watch him at play. I get his tiffin and
+then put him to sleep. After he wakes up I dress him all up fine and
+take him out in the compound in the carriage and usually his mother
+walks with us a little and then I give him an early supper and put
+him to bed and sit in the room with him until his mother comes
+up-stairs. Wouldn't you like to do that? It just isn't work at all
+and yet I get ten rupees a month for it."
+
+"Oh, I would like to! But I'd never get a chance to do that," the
+girl said sadly.
+
+"Were you ever in a sahib's house?" the old woman ambled on, seeing
+that the girl was really interested and impressed. "It is a great,
+big place, as big as that station almost," and the old woman pointed
+out to a station at which they were just stopping.
+
+"My husband used to go to one sometimes," said the girl, and,
+clutching at her bundle, her face grew sad again.
+
+"You are a widow?" asked the other, although she must have known
+from the girl's dress that she was.
+
+"Yes, my husband has been dead two years." She paused a moment and
+then as if she could restrain herself no longer, as if the flood of
+her speech had been loosened, she went on rapidly in a low but
+intense tone. "Yes, for two years he has been dead. He was not sick
+long. I was but a girl. I did not know very much about it except
+that he was sick and that they made offerings to the gods and did
+all they could to cure him. But one day my mother-in-law came to me
+and called me terrible names and told me that if my husband died I
+would be to blame and that awful things would happen to me. She
+frightened me terribly and told me that I must not let him die. So I
+crept away to the temple. I had no offering to make except as I
+stole a handful of rice in the bazaar and took that. I prayed and
+prayed. At one temple the priests said that they would cure him for
+ten rupees but I had no money and I was afraid to go and tell my
+mother-in-law. A priest at another shrine said that a little Ganges
+water might help my husband and, as I turned away in despair, for I
+did not know where the Ganges was, I heard him say to a man standing
+there, 'When I die I am going to the Ganges and die there so that my
+bones may be thrown into the river and Mother Gunga may hold them
+upon her bosom; then shall I be forever happy.' But I had done all I
+could by my prayers and so I crept back home to find my
+husband--dead.--But I remembered what the priest had said.
+
+"My mother-in-law beat me. She took my jewels away from me. She
+shaved my head and drove me from the house. But I got work as a
+sweeper and for two years I have swept up the scrapings in the
+streets and made fuel cakes. I never went back to my husband's
+home."
+
+Her story told, to which the old woman had listened with sympathy,
+the girl covered her face with her sari and, clasping her bundle in
+her arms, sat silent, shaking occasionally as with sobs.
+
+Finally the other woman put her hand upon the girl's arm to soothe
+her. "What are you going to Benares for?" she asked.
+
+"I am going to Benares," was the only answer the girl made.
+
+Most of the women had left the carriage by this time and night was
+coming on. The old lady leaned over to the window and peered out
+through the semi-darkness.
+
+"There is the Ganges River--Holy Mother Gunga!" she cried.
+
+The girl started up and eagerly looked from the window, too. "Is
+that the Ganges River?" she asked and looked and looked until the
+last gleam of the water was lost as the train sped on.
+
+"What are you going to Benares for?" the old woman asked again.
+
+"I am going to Benares," the girl answered again with a frightened
+stare, clutching her bundle.
+
+As there were but few passengers left, the two women soon lay down
+at full length on the hard benches and went to sleep. But the girl
+did not use her bundle for a pillow as her companion had suggested
+but lay with it in her arms.
+
+Before the sun was up the next morning, the younger woman was awake
+and staring out with frightened eyes as the train ran through a
+country entirely strange to her. And when the old woman woke up and
+announced that soon she must be getting off, the girl's fear seemed
+to increase.
+
+"Is the Ganges River near here, too?" she asked.
+
+"Why, I think so," the old woman replied and her statement was
+confirmed by another woman in the next seat.
+
+"Then I'll get off here with you," announced the girl with a
+brighter look. "If the Ganges River is here, this place should do as
+well as Benares, I think."
+
+The older woman looked astonished but offered no objections to the
+girl's sudden change of plan.
+
+In a few minutes the train stopped at Allahabad and again arose the
+mad confusion of a large railway station at train time. But the old
+woman got out safely, followed closely by the girl, holding her
+bundle tightly in her arms.
+
+They stepped aside from the crowd and the old woman looked at the
+younger in curiosity as to what she would do here in Allahabad. The
+appearance of the latter had suddenly changed. Her face was eager
+and her eyes were bright.
+
+"Take me to the Ganges River quickly," she demanded, "for I must
+throw these into the sacred river," and she held out her bundle.
+
+"What is in it?" asked the old lady, eyeing the strange bundle with
+a frightened look such as the girl herself had worn until the
+excitement of being near her goal had driven it from her face.
+
+"I must throw them into the Ganges River," repeated the girl. "They
+are my husband's bones," she whispered eagerly, lowering her voice.
+"When they burned his body I crept along and after all had left I
+picked them out of the pile of ashes and here they are!" she
+exclaimed triumphantly. "For two years I have kept them near me day
+and night and saved all my money to come to Benares to throw them
+into the Ganges River that I might be forgiven for his death and
+that he might have life and happiness as the priest said. But if the
+Ganges River is here, surely this place will do as well as Benares.
+I am so tired! I am so tired of being a cursed woman!" she sobbed,
+her excitement giving way to tears. "I want to be happy. Take me to
+the Ganges River!"
+
+The old woman's expression had turned from fright to astonishment as
+she heard what the bundle contained; but at the girl's sobs her face
+grew sweet with a motherly tenderness. She turned away as if to
+think, murmuring to herself, "The memsahib will surely forgive me if
+I come a little late. She would like to have me help this poor
+child, I know, and perhaps she might make her an ayah like me if I
+take her with me. That would make the girl happy, indeed. Yes, I
+will help her."
+
+Then she turned back to the girl. Tenderly taking her free hand, for
+one still tightly clasped the precious bundle, the old woman said,
+"Come, we will find the way to the sacred river."
+
+Quickly the two went down the platform, now somewhat thinned of the
+earlier crowd, and passed through the station gate, the old woman
+still holding the girl's hand and the girl still tightly holding the
+bundle which was to be the price of life and happiness to her.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+Bachelor Dreams
+
+
+Caldwell-Sahib, opening his eyes, let his head roll slowly over on
+his pillow. As the veranda door came within his line of vision the
+delicious drowsiness which had held him was suddenly disturbed, for
+there stood, looking out across the rows of potted plants to the dry
+lawn beyond, a woman whom he had never seen. For several moments he
+simply stared in weakness. Then, trying to brush away the strange,
+sickly haze which enveloped his brain, he let his eyes rove over the
+room as far as he could without physical effort. There in the corner
+was his desk. There, hanging above it, was the picture of the Taj
+which he had bought when Parsons had paid him a flying visit from
+England and they had gone to Agra together. Just to the right, out
+of the edge of his eye, he could see the foot of his steamer chair
+and, extending from beneath it, the hand-woven rug which he himself
+had spent a week in buying from a native dealer in Delhi, holding
+grimly to his first bid each day as he had passed the shop on his
+constitutional until a bargain had been struck the very day his
+train pulled out. Those things certainly belonged to him, but the
+woman did not. Where had she come from? For there she was still as
+his eyes again reached the door.
+
+His strangely tired mind was just getting to the point of realizing
+what she looked like--that she was tall and fair--when the woman
+turned her face towards him and with a smile came to the bed.
+
+"So you are awake and better. That's good! You will be all right
+now. Let me feel your pulse, please," and pulling the omnipresent
+mosquito netting aside, she laid a cool hand upon his wrist. "That
+is all right too. Your pulse is normal. Isn't that splendid!
+
+"Now, listen to me," she continued after a deft fluffing of his
+pillows and a careful tucking in of the netting. "I'm sorry, but
+you've got to be your own nurse now. Your boy is frightened to
+death, but he'll stay with you and do your bidding. You'll be all
+right. I must go. Take one teaspoonful of this every hour," and she
+lifted a tumbler from the table. "At seven o'clock take half of this
+in the cup here," and she brought a flowered teacup into view.
+"Don't get up until you really feel strong enough to. Have your boy
+give you broths to-morrow, an egg the next day, and so on, getting
+back to your regular diet by degrees. I guess you are used to being
+your own nurse."
+
+She turned towards the door. "I'll get your boy in but you will have
+to make him stay. I can't wait to do that."
+
+She left the room, but soon returned followed slowly and reluctantly
+by his "boy," only a boy in Anglo-Indian nomenclature, for he was a
+tiny native man about forty years of age, who was bowing and
+salaaming but keeping as near to the door as possible.
+
+"Come," said the lady in a low but compelling tone. "Come. Come
+along quickly," she added a trifle sharply as he lagged behind.
+"Aren't you ashamed to have left your master when he was sick! Now,"
+for he had reached the bed by this time, "lift the netting and take
+hold of the sahib's hand."
+
+"There!" she exclaimed as he touched the Englishman's hand and took
+his own quickly away. "There! You see it didn't hurt you. You
+haven't caught the cholera. Now, do as your master tells you; take
+good care of him and behave as a boy should," and she was gone.
+
+Ah! Cholera! That explained it all to Caldwell. So he had had the
+cholera, he--Caldwell--who had served the government for fifteen
+years in India, had taken every risk, and had considered himself
+immune! That explained his extreme weakness, his befuddled brain,
+and the unusual soreness of his muscles. That explained the terror
+of his boy. But it did not explain the woman. Where had she come
+from? Who was she?
+
+For some time Caldwell thought over this interesting matter, for it
+was easier just to think than to question the shivering boy who was
+still crouching as close to the outside door as possible. Who was
+she? She was tall and thin; her face was very fine-featured and
+intelligent. And she was an American. He knew that last fact from
+her speech and from her appearance, too, for although Caldwell never
+had looked at ladies in his life, especially American ladies, except
+when politeness absolutely compelled him to, yet even he could not
+mistake the something in the appearance that marks every American
+girl, and,--yes, secretly approve, although his English nature would
+not let him acknowledge it. And she wasn't very old either!
+
+Suddenly a thought struck him, so suddenly and such a thought that
+he almost started up in spite of his weakness. There was only one
+other European in Baihar besides himself and that was a missionary,
+a woman,--a doctor, he had understood, and--an American.
+
+"Boy," as strong a voice as a usually strong Englishman could
+command after a fit of cholera demanded, "was that the missionary?"
+
+"Yes, Sahib, I got her. She's a doctor-memsahib, master."
+
+"Boy, did you run away and leave me?" Caldwell continued,
+remembering the words of the woman to the boy and making his tone as
+sepulchral as possible in order to frighten the man still more.
+
+"I ran to get the doctor-memsahib, master," shivered out the unhappy
+fellow, ignoring in his reply his later entire disappearance while
+the doctor-memsahib was left for five hours to struggle alone for
+Caldwell-Sahib's life.
+
+But Caldwell-Sahib, although suspecting the truth, was in no state
+just then either by chastisement or preaching to teach the beauty of
+courage and self-sacrifice. So he sank back upon his pillow and gave
+himself to thought.
+
+During the next few days, while his strength was returning,
+Caldwell-Sahib had plenty of time to think and, for the first time
+in his bachelor life, his thoughts centred about a woman--for he
+knew cholera and he knew that the doctor-memsahib had saved his
+life.
+
+The boy, emboldened by feeling no symptoms of the dread disease in
+his own system, gradually took up his accustomed duties and cared
+for his master's wants in the quick, noiseless, and perfect way of
+the well-trained Indian servant that soothes a man's soul. So for
+several days with the punkah swinging over him the convalescent lay
+stretched out upon his steamer chair, the very picture of comfort
+and pleasant dreams. To have one's life saved by a woman and a
+good-looking one, too, touches even a crusty heart. But to find that
+this was the very woman whom for a whole month he had thought of
+only with contempt and disgust broke clear through the crustiness of
+Caldwell-Sahib's heart and added a little pleasurable anxiety to the
+tenderness engendered within.
+
+One month before this time very suddenly the government had sent him
+up to Baihar to look after some matters which would consume about a
+year's time. So having taken possession of the bungalow built by the
+government for such official visits and having moved up enough of
+his belongings to be comfortable, Caldwell-Sahib had settled down
+for a "dead" year such as so many government officials live through
+in parts of India, as in duty bound. Baihar, a city of about ten
+thousand inhabitants, is a purely religious city, where no business
+is transacted but religious business and where no pleasures are
+indulged in but those of religion; those of the Hindu religion being
+so vile that "Baihar" is almost another name for Hell. Caldwell had
+expected to be the only European in that whole city of blackest
+Hinduism; so the prospects of a year alone in such a place had been,
+indeed, anything but inviting to an Englishman who despised the
+natives and who could find no pleasure in Indian life apart from the
+sports of a large cantonment or the resources of a well-stocked
+library.
+
+However, after he had been in Baihar but a few days, he had heard
+that there was another European in the city, a woman, an American
+missionary, who for six years had lived alone in that horrible place
+in order to bring Christian, medical help to the poor women of that
+city, especially to the four thousand Hindu widows devoted to temple
+worship and the lusts of the priests. To say that Caldwell-Sahib had
+been horrified at the thought of a lone woman in that place would
+have put it too strongly, for he was simply disgusted. He said that
+she must be mad, certainly far beyond the realm of sense, let alone
+common sense, to have undertaken such a thing. This woman's presence
+in Baihar would not make any difference with the beastly dullness of
+the life ahead of him, that was certain, for he would have nothing
+to do with her and he did not even want to see her; for he hated
+women in general and this one must be an especially objectionable
+specimen of the species.
+
+But now Caldwell-Sahib had seen her and she was sweet and wholesome
+to look upon. Now this very woman had saved his life. If she had not
+been there engaged in her foolish work, he would have died.
+Therefore, he was full of regret for his former unkind thoughts and
+he was, moreover, exceedingly grateful, for he put considerable
+value on his life, did Caldwell-Sahib, and to be less than grateful
+to her who had saved it would be to prove himself less than a man.
+
+During the days of convalescence the Englishman's thoughts turned
+often to the probable experiences of the six years that this sweet
+American woman had spent alone in this "Hell." Even his stout
+English heart recoiled at the mental pictures his mind conjured up.
+He could see her threading her way alone through the crowded bazaars
+where vile Hindu priests, dirty shopkeepers, men red-faced with
+smallpox, or hideous lepers must again and again have jostled rudely
+against her. He saw her, unattended, with difficulty passing the
+frenzied religious processions which accompany the silver car of the
+great god as it makes its sacred rounds, or being pushed to the wall
+by a surging mass of religious devotees, eager to reach the sacred
+river to bathe in its holy waters. But the worst picture to him was
+of the nights of those six years when unprotected she must have
+crouched within her chamber in fright at the awful and unholy
+confusion of night in a Hindu city.
+
+"My----!" He pulled himself up short. "I must not swear, for she is
+a missionary, but by--by--by Oliver Cromwell, I'll save her from all
+that."
+
+The instinct of gratitude will assert itself and it is easy for
+gratitude to pass over into affection and enduring devotion. When
+the rescuer is a beautiful and capable woman, who can measure the
+consequences? All of Caldwell-Sahib's philosophy of life was thrown
+into confusion. His complex nature would no longer run according to
+his will. Staid, cold, hard, matter-of-fact Englishman though he
+was, his imagination played fantastic tricks with him and so through
+all these days while his body was regaining its lost strength, her
+face lived in his memory and the memory gave him a warm and
+comforting sensation about the heart, a sensation intensified in its
+delight by the thought that she was probably thinking about him, for
+so the old romance has run since the beginning of the human drama.
+
+As soon as Caldwell-Sahib was able to get out, he inquired his way
+to her home. He had an easy time finding it, for everybody seemed to
+know where she lived and every face brightened at her name. But when
+he reached the compound and through the gate saw the plain but
+comfortable bungalow within, his courage gave way and he turned back
+home. However, he got into the habit of strolling around that way
+towards nightfall and standing a few minutes at the point of the
+wall nearest to what he thought her window and watching the people
+who came and went from her compound; but never on these occasions
+did he catch a glimpse of her. As a courageous and polite
+Englishman, he should have gone in and thanked the good American
+lady for having saved his life, but he had grown to feel that there
+was only one way in which he wanted to thank her and he had not yet
+reached the height of courage where he could tell her how she had
+wrecked his philosophy of life. So he lingered around outside the
+compound walls and watched the natives; "lucky beggars" he called
+them to himself, as they came and went from a small, low building at
+one side of the compound which he knew from appearance must be her
+dispensary. Those who passed him were lame and halt and, yes, even
+blind. But they were all "lucky" in his sight because they had been
+in her presence and had been speaking to her.
+
+He overheard their remarks occasionally and now it was: "It hurt
+awfully but she put her hand on my head and took all the pain away;"
+or "She gave me the worst medicine to take, but since she said
+'Take it!' I will;" and even the blind man said as he passed, a
+strange light in his face, "She says to come to-morrow and she will
+cut something in my eyes and then she thinks I shall see again.
+Since she says it will be all right, I am coming back to-morrow, but
+I wouldn't believe any one else."
+
+Caldwell-Sahib's heart ached for the sweet, clean American woman who
+must touch, heal, and minister to such foul, dirty creatures. Every
+night as he watched them he felt that he ought to go in and tell her
+of his love and take her away from such a dreadful life at once.
+Possibly she was wondering why he had not come. How cruel he was to
+delay! But every night home he would go again and put off the visit,
+bachelor-like, until the next day.
+
+However fate took a hand in the affair at last. One day a couple of
+months after his illness, as Caldwell-Sahib was standing in the
+narrow bazaar with, for a wonder, very few people about, he saw a
+lady's topi above some sari-covered heads turn into the street at
+the corner.
+
+Caldwell-Sahib could not conceal from himself that his heart was
+beating with strangely quickened throbs. This sight of the woman who
+had saved his life and for weeks had filled his thoughts now brought
+to him an overwhelming consciousness that his bachelor dreams were
+at an end, that his hour had come, the happiest of a man's life; for
+when a man sees for the first time the light of love in the eyes of
+the woman whom he loves, that is the happiest hour of life. She came
+nearer. He could hear her voice, low in Hindustani, addressing a
+young native girl at her side.
+
+For a blissful moment he watched her approach, saw the grace of her
+carriage, the pretty bend of her head as she talked with the girl,
+the slender, strong hands which had ministered to him and saved his
+life. He saw also, in anticipation, the light in her eyes and the
+blush upon her cheek when she should see him.
+
+He stammered a good-morning. Strange how his lips seemed to tremble!
+
+She glanced up.
+
+With unrecognizing eyes turned upon him, slightly bowing a greeting
+in return, she passed on.
+
+As Caldwell-Sahib stared stupidly after her, he heard the girl say:
+"That was the Inspector-Sahib whose life you saved when he had the
+cholera," for apparently the girl was astonished at the lady's
+uninterested manner in the presence of such an important official.
+
+Caldwell-Sahib did not hear the lady's reply, as she and the young
+Hindu girl passed on.
+
+"Oh, is that he? I had forgotten about him. I had such a good laugh
+afterwards at the surprised expression on his face when he saw me in
+his house the morning he regained consciousness that I ought to have
+remembered him. We must turn here, my dear, for I must get back to
+my work at once."
+
+So the two turned down a side street which led to the doctor's
+office where at least thirty dirty, but well-remembered and beloved
+native patients were waiting for the tender treatments daily
+administered by the missionary's skillful hands.
+
+The Englishman still stared.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+The Cost
+
+
+Yes, that is a Bible. Oh, yes, I speak English. I've spoken it ever
+since I was a young girl. Nearly every Parsi, you know, learns to
+speak English as soon as possible. We admire English people in a
+great many ways and try to emulate them in some things, although we
+are proud enough to think that we are superior to them in some
+others.
+
+Yes, I'm a Parsi--that is--I'm a Parsi in race but not in religion.
+This Bible shows you what I am in belief. Yes, I'm a Christian, but
+not one of long standing, for I was baptized only one year ago.
+
+You're an American, aren't you? I thought so, for in many ways you
+are like my dear Miss Miller. Won't you have this pillow at your
+back? Even second-class carriages are not any too comfortable. If
+you will let me pull that leather bag out a little from under the
+seat so that you can put your feet upon it, you will rest more
+easily. A second-class carriage is a luxury for me nowadays, since I
+became a Christian. I really can't afford to travel any other way
+than third, but I've been a little ill the last few weeks and Miss
+Miller insisted upon my coming second this time. You look so much
+like Miss Miller that you must excuse me, if I have stared at you a
+little impolitely since we left Grand Avenue Station.
+
+[Illustration: "You are an American, aren't you?"]
+
+Oh, an American is privileged to do that, you know, to watch us
+closely, for he is here to see a new people and to find out all he
+can about them. I don't mind that at all. We really expect it. We
+have so many Americans in Bombay that I have got quite used to it
+and don't notice it any more. At first I used to get embarrassed and
+think that they were looking at me, but I soon found out that it was
+only my clothes and my manners that they were interested in and that
+they couldn't distinguish me from any other Parsi lady; we were only
+a sort of curiosity to them. It wasn't exactly flattering to find it
+out, but still it made one feel more comfortable on the streets.
+
+Oh, I've got quite accustomed to it now, I assure you. But you do
+resemble Miss Miller, if you don't mind my saying so; only she wears
+her hair quite plain and always dresses in gray.
+
+She is my teacher.
+
+Here we are at A----. I'm just selfish enough to hope that no other
+lady will want to get into this compartment. Since each of us has a
+whole seat to herself we can be pretty comfortable.
+
+There is an unusual crowd of third-class passengers to-day, though
+there are always crowds here for that matter. I don't see where they
+get the money for all the travelling they do. Since so many
+pilgrimages are required in their religion the people seem to work
+very hard for a long time and then spend every anna that they have
+saved on a pilgrimage somewhere. But to-day is a special feast day
+at N----. That is another reason why Miss Miller insisted upon my
+coming second class this time, for the third was terribly crowded
+when we came down this noon. She is so good! She left her work just
+to come down and see me off, because I have been ill.
+
+No, thank you. I don't care for a cup of tea now, for I shall reach
+my destination in time for tea. Oh, yes, the tea at these stations
+is quite safe. But I would not take the milk if I were you, for Miss
+Miller never does.
+
+Oh, yes. We stop here about ten minutes. You'll have plenty of time
+to drink it and the man will come back with his tray and get your
+cup before the train starts. It is two annas a cup. Don't you want a
+piece of cake with it? Here, boy!
+
+Yes, some of the stations have very good food.
+
+The new passengers are nearly all located now and no one seems to
+be going to get in with us. I am so glad! Now we can be nice and
+comfortable.
+
+Yes, they do keep the plants nicely watered and well taken care of
+at these stations. If they were not so dreadfully noisy and confused
+at train times, they would be pretty enough places to live in.
+
+There goes the bell! Here comes your boy. I'll hand it to him.
+
+Two annas. That's right. I suppose it is hard for you to get
+accustomed to our money; I believe it is quite different from yours,
+is it not?
+
+Oh, is that some of your American money? How interesting! It is
+worth about three-quarters of a rupee, you say? I am so glad to have
+seen it. What do you call it?
+
+A quarter! See, I'll use that word in speaking to Miss Miller some
+time. Won't that surprise her! She will wonder where I have learned
+it.
+
+Now we are off and there isn't another station for half an hour at
+least. Isn't that nice? Now we can rest. Wouldn't you rather lie
+down?
+
+That is very kind of you, for I do feel just like talking this
+afternoon. This little trip is a holiday for me, you see, and has
+quite excited me, almost as much as it would my little girl. But I
+expect that she is excited, too, this afternoon, for she knows I am
+coming to see her.
+
+One little girl. I am a widow and have been so for several years.
+
+She is in school down here at A----. And since I've been ill, Miss
+Miller had me come down to see her for a rest.
+
+Indeed, I'll be glad to tell you about myself, especially about my
+becoming a Christian, if you would like to hear, for I love to tell
+that story. You Christians in America are so good to send teachers
+to us!
+
+You are not a Christian! But I thought all Americans were
+Christians!
+
+Don't you believe in God?
+
+You suppose there is a God but you've never thought much about it!
+How strange! Don't you believe in Christ?
+
+No? Why, how can that be possible when He has done so much for you
+people in America and is doing so much for us here?
+
+Do I believe in Christ? Why, of course I do. Do you think I would be
+here, a penniless woman, going to see my daughter, kept in school by
+charity, if I did not believe in Jesus Christ; if I did not know Him
+personally and if I had not confessed my belief before my family and
+friends?
+
+I can't understand why you do not believe in Christ, unless--yes, it
+must be so--you have been too busy to think about Him and you have
+not really needed His help yet. You never have had any trouble and
+felt all alone in the big world, without any one to help you, have
+you? Until that time comes I suppose people are too busy having a
+good time to think about religion. I have noticed that here in my
+teaching among my own people, but I did not suppose it was so in
+America, for I thought everybody believed there. Here I have seen
+that when people are kept quiet for a time because of sickness or
+sorrow, when they have time to think and when earthly friends cannot
+help, then Christ most easily makes Himself known to them. I know
+this is so for I have proved it myself. And I know Christ!
+
+Yes, it does make me very happy!
+
+Oh, I had forgotten this station. But we will stop here only a few
+minutes and as it is a small station I don't think any one else will
+get on. Here comes a gentleman to the window.
+
+Thank you. An orange would taste good and refresh me. Although this
+is our cold season, it does get pretty warm in the middle of the
+day.
+
+Your husband? You are taking a trip around the world for pleasure.
+What interesting things you must have seen! Your husband is a
+lecturer. Oh, I see, and he is taking pictures with his camera for
+his lectures, I suppose. He is going to take that boy with his pan
+of sweets. See?
+
+There is the bell! He got the picture just in time.
+
+Shall I go on with my story? But, please, don't let me tire you.
+
+No, I'll save my orange a little while for I cannot eat when I have
+a chance to talk on this subject. Do you know much about the Parsis?
+
+Well, I'll tell you a little so that you can understand my
+situation. We Parsis are Persians; but when the Mohammedans came
+into our country and began to persecute us, gained political
+control, and tried to make us accept their religion by force, many
+of us fled to India, most of whom are now settled around Bombay.
+
+The women all dress about as I do with a little cotton waist, you
+see, and a one-coloured sari; delicate pinks and blues are favourite
+colours, edged with fancy embroidered borders, often of pure gold or
+silver. We wear stockings and slippers, the latter usually more
+elaborately embroidered than mine. We wear, also, this peculiar
+head-binder, a white cloth drawn tightly around the head, covering
+the hair under the sari. Our men invariably dress as Europeans these
+days, for that dress is so convenient, but they may be recognized by
+an oddly shaped cap which Miss Miller says looks as if it were made
+of what you in America call black oilcloth, I think it is. Of course
+the sacred emblems of Parsiism are worn under the clothing and do
+not show, the shirt and the kusti.
+
+Our people have lived in India for many generations, but they have
+kept themselves separate from the other peoples. There has been very
+little intermarriage; we have kept our own religion; and we are
+practically a distinct people. Of course in our religion and our
+social customs we have been somewhat influenced by the Hindus and
+Mohammedans among whom we have lived so long; but we differ from
+them greatly. We believe in education and begin to teach our
+children early in life. We believe in monogamy and a happy family
+life. We are industrious, keen, and honest in business; and I am not
+overstating facts when I tell you that we are the bankers and most
+important business people in India. Of course we are not many in
+number compared with the dense population of this great land, but we
+are scattered throughout the whole of it, and hold, as a rule, the
+places of greatest influence.
+
+Let me throw your orange peel out of this window which is already
+open. You've let your husband take your satchel into his compartment
+and you haven't a towel? That's too bad! I have a perfectly clean
+one in my bag; won't you please use it?
+
+Oh, please don't mention it. I assure you it is a pleasure to me. I
+suppose you are more accustomed to the first-class lavatories, but,
+really, our second-class accommodations are comfortable; don't you
+think so?
+
+No, indeed. I don't mind interruptions in my story. I'll rearrange
+my bag while you are gone, for I packed in a hurry and I don't just
+know where my things are.
+
+It is convenient to have a lavatory for every compartment. Isn't it
+so in America? You don't have compartments at all! Why, how funny! I
+can't imagine what your trains must be like. Miss Miller says that
+she will take me to America with her some time. But I don't believe
+I'd like to leave India even for a little while, interesting as
+America must be.
+
+Yes, I'll go on with my story. Well, I was the daughter of a wealthy
+Parsi in Bombay and we had a beautiful home in a part of the city
+which is now not quite so pleasant, for Bombay as it has grown
+towards one million in population has changed very much. I had a
+governess and even at ten I began the study of English in connection
+with my regular lessons and music. When I was about thirteen, my
+father, who was really a little more advanced than the average
+Parsi, decided to have English only spoken in our household. Knowing
+the value of the language in commercial relations he considered it a
+very important part of an education.
+
+But I must tell you about our, that is the Parsi, religion. We are
+the followers of Zoroaster, you know, and we believe that God is
+represented by fire. Therefore fire is sacred and in our temples a
+fire is always kept burning, with an order of priesthood to care for
+it. You can see how this belief might degenerate and become a
+worship of fire itself, as I fear it has with many people. Even the
+fires in our homes have to be cared for with ceremonies of various
+kinds. We are taught that one should be faithful to his wife; that
+every one should be charitable. But we do believe in demons and must
+go through all sorts of rites to keep them away. You see I can't
+give you more than the briefest account of our belief, for it is
+more or less complicated as all beliefs are, but I wanted you to see
+that in almost every way it is superior to the other religions of
+India, but still lacking the vital elements of Christianity. One
+strange thing about our teaching is that we are not told to try to
+get converts; indeed, the Parsis do not want any new believers.
+Isn't that strange? Really, I must confess that I think we are a
+very self-satisfied people in every respect.
+
+At first we did not believe in early marriages, but in that respect
+we have been gradually influenced by the Hindus. So at fourteen I
+was married to the son of a rich merchant. Of course my husband was
+chosen for me, but he proved to be a fine young man and we were very
+happy together. Part of the wedding ceremonies took place, as our
+weddings usually do, in the large public wedding hall which probably
+you saw in Bombay. Really, the customs have got to be so elaborate
+that a poor Parsi can hardly marry off a child without being in debt
+for the rest of his life. Fortunately our family, as I have said,
+did not lack for money and everything was beautiful. It was, indeed,
+a very happy and joyous occasion, a prophecy of our life together.
+For we were very, very happy for eight years. My husband was an
+unusual young man and gave promise of surpassing his father in
+business sagacity and literary ability. Our little girl came after
+two years of marriage and she was dearly beloved by him, although,
+of course, he would have liked a son. We were happy, oh, so happy!
+After he died it used to hurt me so to think about it that for two
+years I never spoke of my married life to any one, but since I have
+found Jesus, I love to think about it and speak of it.
+
+But one day our joy was turned to sadness and our gladness to grief,
+for my husband was smitten with enteric fever. You know how
+prevalent that is here in India and how often fatal. He had been
+overworking at his office and in the study. Our family was too
+enlightened to believe that the illness was caused by demons, as
+most of our people do, and he was not neglected as most of our sick
+people are, but he had the best of English medical attention and the
+most tender nursing from us. He was young and strong and we fought
+hard, but after six weeks of deepest anxiety and all the devotion I
+could lavish upon him, I saw him sink away and leave me.
+
+They took me from him while they prepared him for our peculiar
+funeral rites and while I myself had to go through certain
+ceremonies of purification. You have been to the Towers of Silence
+in Bombay? No? But you are going back next week. Well, when you
+stand upon the terrace and look across to those great towers, black
+around the tops with ugly vultures, think of me as on that day three
+years ago I stood and watched.--Please excuse my tears, but I don't
+usually tell this part of my story; it is too sacred; but I don't
+think you could understand the rest without knowing these customs of
+ours. You know that the elements, earth, air, fire, and water, are
+sacred in the sight of the Parsis and cannot be defiled by the dead;
+therefore we cannot bury our dead; we cannot burn them; nor can we
+throw their corpses into the river to be carried away by its
+current. So our ancestors devised the plan which we now use. Our
+dead are exposed upon high towers and vultures are allowed to tear
+away the flesh, leaving the bones to crumble. So we Parsis in Bombay
+have, upon a hill overlooking the harbour, really the most beautiful
+spot in the city, a park in which at the top of the hill are located
+five white towers between twenty-five and fifty feet high. The park
+is well cared for and contains a shrine where fire is always
+burning. A high terrace looks out towards the towers, about five
+hundred feet away, which are never approached except by the officers
+of the dead.
+
+Yes, visitors are admitted to the garden by permit before nine in
+the morning. After that time the grounds are kept clear for funerals
+and mourners who come to pray for the dead.
+
+I need not tell you of the long, sorrowful approach to the gardens
+on that day three years ago, or how, standing upon the terrace, I
+saw that dear body borne to the tower to become the prey of the ugly
+birds swarming about the gardens. I need not tell you either of my
+loneliness in our home or of my return to my father's house with
+only one desire in life, to bring up my child so that she should be
+an honour to her father.
+
+For a year my life was very bare and my heart very heavy. I had
+plenty of money; I wanted for nothing; I was tenderly cared for by
+my family, for, you know, the Parsis do not treat their widows after
+the customs of the Hindus; but nothing seemed to make me even one
+tiny bit happier. Then one day a white lady called at our home. She
+was very pleasant and kind. She showed us a book of a new religion
+which she wanted us to read and she offered to come and read it with
+us every day; but my mother did not care to hear about any other
+religion than our own. Then the lady showed us some beautiful
+embroidery which we did not know how to do. When my mother expressed
+a wish to learn the new work, the lady offered to teach her if she
+might also read from the Bible at every lesson. I, too, liked to
+keep my fingers busy and when my mother, who excelled at needlework,
+could not resist the temptation and consented to let Miss Miller
+come, for it was indeed she, I was glad.
+
+Once a week she came and for an hour at a time taught us various
+kinds of stitches and read and explained the Bible to us. My mother,
+after a short time, became ill and could not attend the lessons, but
+as I seemed to enjoy them and my mind was somewhat diverted by them
+from my sorrow, she still continued to allow Miss Miller to come. So
+I, who had become very much interested in the Bible, much more so
+than in the sewing, used to let my embroidery lie untouched while
+sometimes we would talk for a couple of hours of this Christ
+religion. What a beautiful religion it seemed to me! What a
+comforting religion! I would have something to live for and
+something to work for if I were a Christian. I thought of my
+husband's death with less bitterness, for this religion taught that
+I would surely see him again if I did God's will. Finally one day,
+one year ago, Christ spoke to my heart. I believed. I knew that
+Christ not only had lived but that He still lives. I cried for joy,
+but Miss Miller thought it was with grief and started to console me.
+But when I looked up with a shining face, her face shone too.
+
+"You have found Jesus!" she said.
+
+I answered eagerly, "I have."
+
+And right there in my own chamber where she had been coming since my
+mother's illness, we knelt and prayed.
+
+When we arose, I said, "I want to be baptized and become a
+Christian."
+
+"You are a Christian now, my dear," she said.
+
+"But I want the world to know it," I affirmed.
+
+"That is right and brave," she answered, "but you must count the
+cost first."
+
+Then she sat down beside me and gently told me what I would have to
+bear if I publicly took the name of Christ. She said that there were
+not more than twenty-five Parsi Christians in the whole world. She
+said that probably I would be turned out of my home, that my
+relatives would count me as dead, that all my wealth would be taken
+from me and that I would not have one anna for myself or my child.
+
+"Think of your child! Think of yourself! I cannot urge you to do it.
+You must decide for yourself."
+
+I answered quickly, "I have thought of myself. I have thought of my
+child. She must be a Christian and be brought up as such. Miss
+Miller, I have decided for myself. Jesus will take care of us. I
+know it in my heart for He tells me so."
+
+So I made my decision and she said no more, but I knew she was
+pleased by the smile that she gave me. I would not wait for one
+instant lest influences might be brought to bear which I could not
+resist and I might be prevented from declaring my desire and
+fulfilling it. I took Miss Miller's hand and we went at once to my
+mother's room. She was not dangerously ill. When she heard my
+determination to become a Christian, she sent for my father from his
+study. Together they listened as I told all again.
+
+"Is that decision final, my daughter?" asked my father at last, a
+man always of few words.
+
+"It is," I answered with a heart yearning towards them but firm.
+
+"Then you must go from our home, from our family. You and yours can
+no longer be a part of us in any way. You will receive nothing from
+us for your support.--You are dead to us.--If you repent of this
+folly," he added, turning back from the door towards which he had
+started with bowed head, "communicate with me and half of my fortune
+will be yours. But if you persist in this strange conduct," his
+voice grew very stern, "in ten minutes you and yours must be gone
+from this house."
+
+I tried to kiss my mother good-bye but her face was turned from me
+towards the wall.
+
+I returned to my apartment, took my child, my belongings and a few
+relics of my husband and our happy life together and within ten
+minutes I had left my home, perhaps forever,--but I don't think so.
+I believe that some day God will send me back to them at their own
+request; for they will yet believe as I do, I feel assured.
+
+Miss Miller took me to her own home and trained me. I have been a
+Bible woman for six months now and Christians in America pay my
+salary. By a scholarship they also help me support and educate my
+daughter in a Christian school.
+
+Am I not sorry? Look at me! I used to ride always in the first-class
+carriage; my saris were of silk and my borders embroidered with
+gold; but there was sorrow in my heart. Now, I may sit on a hard
+bench, crowded by dirty Hindus and my clothes may be of the cheapest
+cotton, but I am happy, for Christ has put joy into my life and into
+the life to come. He has also given me something important to do for
+Him. The lives of most of our Indian women are so empty! In the
+first-class carriage I used to have few fellow travellers; now in
+the third I have many, sad, needy women to whom I can tell the great
+story of which my own story is only a dim reflection. And to some of
+these women in the last six months God has given me the joy of
+revealing His love through Jesus Christ.
+
+Well, if here isn't our station! Hasn't the time flown!
+
+I hope I haven't wearied you.
+
+Thank you very much! Kind words stay in one's memory such a long
+time and come back to strengthen in lonely or hard hours. I am so
+glad that you enjoyed my story. Won't you take time to think a
+little about Jesus yourself? I don't understand how an American
+woman, with all God has given her, can say that she does not believe
+in Him and love Him and His Son!
+
+There is my little girl and here is your husband! Good-bye!
+
+Oh, you are going to get off here too! Will I come up to the hotel
+some time and see you? Indeed, I shall be delighted to! And will I
+bring my little girl? How happy she will be to come! You must excuse
+my excitement for I haven't seen her for two months, you know.
+There, she sees me! How well and happy she looks! Will I bring my
+Bible with me when I come? Yes, dear lady, most gladly will I. Here,
+dear, this way! Good-bye! Good-bye!
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+Among the Clouds
+
+
+The conversation had drifted by mysterious and unexplained
+associations of ideas from the unusual excellence of the sweets
+served at the end of dinner upon this line of steamers, to the most
+grewsome tales of adventure which the narrators themselves had
+experienced. Gladys, who by the most special of special permissions
+and the kind favour of the captain, because she was an only child,
+well behaved at table, and--because it was off season--had been
+permitted to take Sunday dinner with her parents, sat beside the
+captain in the gorgeous first cabin saloon with round eyes fixed
+upon the story-tellers.
+
+There was present at dinner the usual shipboard mixture of society:
+at the captain's right, a man whose extensive business interests
+called him often into these waters; next, a gentleman and his wife,
+travelling for their united healths; third, a government official
+returning to India after a brief holiday; on the opposite side, two
+globe-trotters, an American lady from Southern India, Gladys'
+father, and finally Gladys herself. The chair between the little
+girl and her father was vacant, for Gladys' mother, who had been at
+dinner, feeling the slight roll of the boat, had retired early to
+her cabin, leaving the child to the father's care.
+
+If her mother had been there Gladys would not have been permitted to
+listen to the stories which had been told and enjoy the delicious
+sensations of fear which she had experienced as she had heard the
+accounts of awful dangers and marvellous escapes. The merchant had
+obliged this little dinner company to spend five days with him
+without food on a desert island and, after a thrilling rescue, had
+made them watch him fall seventy feet from the masthead of a ship to
+become the ship-surgeon's pet patient with twenty bones to set.
+Gladys had felt herself wasting away with starvation as he had told
+of his sufferings and, when he had cheerfully reached his second
+story, she could hear her own bones grate as if broken asunder, as
+she moved her legs under the table.
+
+Soon it came the turn of the lady from Southern India to tell a
+story.
+
+"Well, I have had one thrilling experience which I don't mind
+telling you, if my courage will support me through the recital," she
+said.
+
+Gladys listened with all her ears, for the lady from Southern India
+had become her best friend on shipboard. She did not want to miss a
+single word.
+
+"You know that I have been a resident of Southern India for many
+years," the lady began. "I could tell many dreadful stories of
+pestilence and disaster in that region, but the most awful
+experience that I have ever had myself took place in Northern India,
+in Darjeeling. Of course you all know Darjeeling."
+
+But in spite of her own assurance that they did, the lady did not
+seem to be able to resist, as no one who loves the Himalayas can,
+telling again of that city among the clouds, seven thousand feet
+above the sea, looking directly across the depths to where, when the
+sun permits, shine forth the snowy peaks of Kinchenjunga. The little
+city on the sheer mountainside is to the world only another proof of
+the audacity of man who dares to invade regions so exalted and, in
+the hope of drenching his lungs, parched by the heat of the Indian
+plains, with the cool air from the never-melting snows of the
+mountain peaks, dares to build his summer cottage on the overhanging
+rock and trust to Providence that it will not tumble headlong into
+the clouds below or, rained on from the clouds above, be carried
+down the mountainside and buried in unknown depths by the debris of
+an ever-possible landslip. Clinging to the edges of the crest of
+this mountain height or perched upon the very crest itself, the
+summer homes of the "sahibs" peer out through their enclosures of
+shrubbery and trees to the snow-capped heights where even their
+masters dare not venture, but from looking upon which these men gain
+courage to go down again to the plains to take up their heavy tasks,
+"the white man's burden."
+
+In her ardour the lady from Southern India described even the ascent
+of the foot-hills to this resort among the mountains: the wide views
+appearing first on one side, then on the other, as the little train
+winds its way up the mountainside, sometimes making complete circles
+to reach the higher grades and at other times shunting backwards to
+save a long detour. The tea-gardens on the hillsides, the luxuriance
+of the vegetation in the wooded glens, the waterfalls, the odd
+little native villages along the road, descriptions of all these the
+table company listened to with pleasure, for they deserved
+attention, coming from the lips of one who was very familiar with
+the scenes of which she spoke and who loved them. Even Gladys, who
+was afraid of mountains, because "they look so big and black,"
+wished she might have been there by the time the lady had reached
+the beginning of her story.
+
+"It was on my first visit to Darjeeling, when I knew nothing of the
+place or the hill people, that I had the experience I am going to
+tell you about," the lady continued. "I had often heard before I
+started on the journey, and again on the way up, and yet again as
+soon as I reached the city itself, that there was one trip which
+every visitor must take in order to see the full glory of the
+Himalayas and to get a peep at Mt. Everest, the highest mountain in
+the world. As my stay there with an old college friend was to be
+brief, since Darjeeling is a long way from Madras and vacation days
+do not last forever, it was to my dismay that I found my hostess too
+ill to accompany me on any excursion. She could only plan my visit
+and direct her servants to carry out her plans.
+
+"As clouds and mists are apt to hide the mountains and no one can
+tell when the 'sublime' heights will be visible, it is wise to take
+the trip I had heard so much about as soon as possible and to repeat
+it until one gets a clear view. Therefore I felt that I must take
+the first opportunity and, although I could find no one to accompany
+me, I decided that I must go the very next morning after my arrival,
+even alone. The plan of the trip was this: to leave at 3:30 A. M.
+and in a dandy, a sort of chair borne by four hillmen, to be carried
+five miles to Tiger Hill, one thousand feet higher than Darjeeling;
+to reach there just as the sun should rise and throw its morning
+splendours upon Mt. Everest. It was decided that I should take an
+alarm clock to my room and, arising at 3 A. M., be ready in all the
+heavy clothing I could assemble for my before-sunrise excursion. The
+dandy and dandywalas were ordered and a light lunch was set ready to
+serve as my chota hazri.
+
+"It had not occurred to me that it would be a trying excursion as
+well as an early one until at 3:30 the next morning, lighted by my
+bedroom lamp as far as the outside door, I opened it and saw in the
+dimness of the light four figures emerge from the darkness beyond
+and stand about some object on the ground which I supposed must be
+the dandy. There was no one to say good-bye to me or give me a last
+word of counsel or warning. I put out the light, closed the door
+behind me, and took a few steps in the direction where I thought the
+dandy was. Then I stopped, for accustomed to speak to the natives in
+their own tongue, it had not occurred to me until that moment that
+these hill people spoke a different language from the one I was
+familiar with and so I could not hope to make them understand a
+word. I remembered, too, that they were of Mongolian descent, very
+different from the Indian people whom I knew. What were their
+characteristics? They might be treacherous and prone to rob for all
+I knew. But after a moment's hesitation I made up my mind that all
+these thoughts were foolish, for certainly my friend would not have
+planned this trip for me if she had not considered it perfectly
+safe. I saw that I must go on or that I should never hear the last
+of my cowardice from my co-workers in India who are very fond of a
+good joke on any of their fellows.
+
+"My eyes had become more accustomed to the darkness while I had been
+cogitating thus, and so, taking my rugs and my life, as it seemed to
+me, in my hands, I stepped resolutely towards the dandy which was
+placed ready for me. I spread out one rug carefully and arranged my
+pillows upon it for comfort, just as calmly as if I had made the
+trip often. Then I sat down and pulled the other rug over me. When I
+appeared to be all ready, the four men, just black shapes in the
+darkness, with a queer united grunt, took hold of the chair poles,
+two in front and two behind, and, lifting the dandy to their
+shoulders, started at a slow pace up the hill behind the house.
+
+"I was pretty high up in the world it seemed to me and as they were
+carrying me up backwards I had a view before me of all the
+mountainside that was visible in the starlight, for the stars were
+very bright overhead, and the street lights of the city twinkled
+here and there below. I tried to forget that my destination was five
+miles away and that the paths might lead through lonely solitudes.
+I tried to concentrate my thoughts upon the scene before me, the
+city, as it were, beside the sea; for so the clouds looked in the
+dimness with the lighted streets resembling long piers running out
+into the cloud sea. Near by an occasional house loomed up darkly in
+the shadows, and the overhanging trees from the slope above looked
+like impenetrable forests in the darkness. Far to the left a dim
+light, I felt sure, marked the spot where a terrible landslip had
+occurred but shortly before and several English people had lost
+their lives. I had been anxious to visit the spot since reading an
+account of the disaster, but somehow in the darkness, even at that
+distance, although I could not see the place, a sort of horror of it
+took possession of me and I seemed to see the white faces upturned
+towards the sky as they were being carried down the mountainside by
+the relentless torrent of rocks and earth. Just then I heard a noise
+as of a person moving stealthily along the narrow roadway and I
+positively shook with fear; but a nearer approach revealed to me
+that it was only a night watchman aroused by our passing. The gleam
+of a policeman's badge in these mountain wilds relieved my anxiety
+for a moment and made me ashamed of my fears.
+
+"I tried to forget my foolish thoughts and to feel soothed by the
+gentle motion of the dandy as the men swung up the hillside by a
+circuitous roadway. I tried not to remember what strange, stolid
+faces the hillmen had had whom I had seen at the station the day
+before. I tried not to see as we passed under a street lamp,
+outlined under the coat of the right hand man in front of me what
+certainly looked like a revolver. I tried, as I looked up at the
+tall trees almost meeting over my head, to imagine how beautiful
+this road would appear by daylight. Once one of the front bearers
+missed his footing by stepping into an unexpected hole near the edge
+of the road. That gave me a shock; but the physical shock was not so
+great as the mental one I received when, as he recovered himself, I
+thought I saw a knife at his belt.
+
+"Soon, at a low call from one of them, the four men fell into a trot
+and I found myself being borne, none too smoothly, along a bit of
+down grade. In a moment the grade became still steeper and,
+apparently at another signal, I was whirled about in my chair and
+carried face forwards. As they toiled up another slope and we
+appeared to have passed out of the city, they began a weird
+antiphonal; the men in front would chant a few words and the men
+behind would finish the phrase. Over and over it sounded--the same
+tones. It seemed to me that the first two were saying, 'Kill her
+now. Kill her now!' and the others were answering, 'It is not time
+yet. It is not time yet!'
+
+"On we went with the stars watching overhead but clearly at such a
+distance that their presence gave me but little comfort. 'Of course
+these men are not saying such awful things,' I tried to reassure
+myself.
+
+"My teeth were chattering both with fear and cold, for it was cold
+at four o'clock in the morning seven thousand feet above the sea.
+Suddenly the thought came to me to bribe these men with money, but
+my shaking fingers discovered that I had left my purse at home. So I
+could do nothing but just wait and let them take their will.
+
+"On we went, up and up, away from the city, farther and farther
+away, at the same swinging pace and to the same accompaniment of
+murderous refrain. Before long I could see that we were approaching
+a fog and very soon we were in it. At another time I should have
+rejoiced at the experience of passing through a cloud on the
+mountainside, but now my only joy was in a light that shone through
+it. It might be a street light and we might be coming to a village!
+We were; but so small was the village and so quickly did we pass
+through it that I had no time to think of getting help there. And to
+cheer me on my way, from the last dark house I heard the wail of a
+suffering child.
+
+"We were soon again in the deep woods and we must have been about an
+hour from our starting point--it had seemed a century to me and I
+knew that my hair had whitened with the passing of those years--when
+we came to a spot where the road broadened. There, in silence, the
+men set my chair down and withdrew to one side of the road. I could
+see their figures close together and I could hear their voices as if
+in discussion. I knew very well that my time had come. Oh, why had I
+ventured alone on this journey, just for pleasure! What would become
+of my work and my dear people in Madras, if these men murdered me,
+as they surely would when they found I had no money at all!
+
+"I thought of running off into the dark woods, but how could I hope
+for safety there where the wild beasts preyed? I thought of shouting
+in the hope that my voice might reach the village which we had
+passed, but before help could come from there I knew that I would
+surely be dead. So I did nothing. My eyes remained fixed upon the
+men and, although I thought it would be pleasanter not to see death
+coming, I could not turn away. I could see the men motioning with
+their arms. One man who was walking up and down behind the others,
+stopped once or twice and pointed towards me. I sat frozen, but not
+with the cold.
+
+"At last this man stepped out from behind the others and came
+towards me. He came straight to the side of the dandy and, raising
+his hands to my throat---- Why, look at that poor child!"
+
+At that exclamation the company turned towards Gladys whose eyes
+were fairly popping out with terror.
+
+"Gladys! Dear child! I should not have told such a thing when you
+were here to frighten you so. How wrong of me! Mr. Bixby, you should
+not have allowed the child to hear all this nonsense."
+
+The good lady from Southern India was out of her chair with the
+little girl in her arms by this time.
+
+"What--what did the man do?" sobbed the child.
+
+"Why, dearest, he did nothing but pull my steamer rug up around my
+neck and tuck me in nice and warm. They were good, harmless men and
+had only stopped to rest after their long climb. I was a foolish,
+easily frightened woman. And do you know, dear, the song they had
+been singing? I found out afterwards that it was simply this,
+variations of which they chant to every passenger: 'Such a big lady!
+Such a big lady!' the first two sang and the answer from the other
+two was, 'Such a big present! Such a big present!'
+
+"And I did give them a good big present when I got safely home, you
+may be sure, because I was so greatly pleased to find all my trouble
+had been in my own mind, as almost all of my troubles have always
+been.
+
+"Now, for bed, little girl, and I'll tell you a really nice story to
+go to sleep on."
+
+And the lady from Southern India bore Gladys away to her stateroom
+before the rest of the company had time to make any comments upon
+her narration.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+The Infidel
+
+
+"Night is coming! The wildness of desolation will soon be upon us!
+Oh, Allah, Allah, hear the cry of the faithful!"
+
+The old man, in Arab dress, arose unsteadily from his knees, stuck
+his feet into his heelless slippers, and stood with scraggy, gray
+head bowed upon his hands.
+
+"It is not the hour for prayer. Why do I thus involuntarily fall
+upon my knees and call upon the sacred name of Allah? What nameless
+fear is this which has clutched at my heart all this day and finally
+brought me to my knees in the guest room of a stranger to whose home
+I have come on a message for the Faith?
+
+"I cannot explain it," he continued in a quavering voice as he
+straightened himself up and began to walk back and forth in the
+narrow guest room. "Something terrible will soon come to pass. I
+know it! I feel it! But I am bound. If I could but leave this city
+to-night and start back to my home, I feel that I would be safe. But
+I am bound! By the law of the Prophet I am bound and I cannot go."
+
+[Illustration: "Oh, Allah, Allah, hear the cry of the faithful!"]
+
+"Night is coming! The wildness of desolation will soon be upon us!"
+he repeated over and over again as he walked back and forth from the
+edge of the court to the plastered wall, back and forth.
+
+The old man's voice had sunk to a murmur but he was still repeating
+the same words and walking restlessly to and fro when a noise beyond
+the door across the narrow, stone-paved court attracted his
+attention and he sank down upon the reception cushions on the floor
+in the conventional attitude of the Arab guest. A sackcloth curtain
+was lifted at the doorway across the court and a man entered, a
+native of India, with the clear-cut features of the Aryan, but the
+heavy black beard and rich robes of a prosperous Mohammedan. Every
+step as he crossed the court betrayed the pride and dignity of this
+follower of the Prophet. On his head was the green turban marking
+the successful, faithful pilgrim to Mecca.
+
+The old man arose to prostrate himself before his host, as with "The
+peace of Allah be thine!" upon his lips the younger man stepped up
+from the court into the open guest room and came towards him. But
+although his lips murmured the conventional words of greeting, the
+old man's eyes did not seem to be looking at his host but out
+across the court as if he saw something startling there and his
+figure seemed to be all a-tremble. It was only after the host had
+politely urged him to resume his seat upon the cushions and had
+himself sat down, that the old man seemed to recover himself.
+Without accepting the proffered seat, however, he spoke.
+
+"Ben Emeal, I come to thee as a messenger of the Prophet."
+
+"And as a messenger of the Prophet thou art most welcome, oh,
+brother, whose name has not been revealed to me," quickly responded
+the other, rising as he saw that the guest would not be seated.
+
+"My name does not matter, oh, faithful Believer, so long as I come
+on the business of the Faith. Ben Emeal, I have something to tell
+thee which I know will fill thee with amaze and thy heart with anger
+and thy mind with plans of cunning." As the old man talked his fear
+seemed to leave him and he became the proud, fearless messenger of
+the Faith.
+
+"Ben Emeal, I have come, I have come all the way from the land of
+the Holy Prophet himself, to warn thee that the infidel is rife in
+the land, that the infidel has entered the very strongholds of the
+Deccan, that the infidel"--the old man stepped nearer and fairly
+hissed into the face of the other, "approaches--thee!"
+
+The old man drew himself erect and looked with the proud superiority
+of wisdom upon the other who was gazing back in evident
+bewilderment.
+
+"Brother, what meanest thou?" the host asked. "I am faithful, as
+thou must know. No man in this great city has been more faithful
+than I and I hate the infidel with the hatred of the Prophet!" At
+the word "hate," Ben Emeal's strong hand had dropped to the sword
+hilt at his side.
+
+The old man again brought his face close to the other's and the
+words came whistling from his toothless mouth. "Yes, thou, oh, Ben
+Emeal, art faithful, but watch thou thy household! Watch thou thy
+household! Watch! I shall be at the crossing of the Sidar Ways; for
+three days only I shall be there. Watch and come to me for help. I
+have delivered my message; now I go!"
+
+As the last words fell from his lips and he turned towards the
+courtyard, all the proud fearlessness left his face; the expression
+as of one doomed returned; and with his hands raised above his head,
+the old man staggered from the court, crying, "Night is coming! The
+wildness of desolation is upon us! Oh, Allah, Allah, hear the cry of
+the faithful!"
+
+The younger man, left alone, sank upon the cushions of the guest
+room and seemed lost in thought. What meant this strange warning?
+His women were faithful, Ben Emeal knew, for they had not the
+brains nor the courage nor, indeed, the opportunity to listen to the
+preaching of any faith but that of their master and lord. His
+servants--they really mattered not to him--but he knew that they
+were faithful, too, as he had but recently taken them to account on
+the subject as a true follower of the Prophet should. His
+children----? They were too young, all--but---- He did not even
+repeat the name to himself, for from the first word of accusation
+his mind had guessed the one involved, but his heart had sturdily
+driven his mind to seek in every other direction before it should
+turn to the one being in all the world whom Ben Emeal loved, but no
+less the one being in all his household who, he knew, would dare to
+question or oppose the established order of things. This was a
+serious charge and no one realized the seriousness of it, coming
+from one of the wise men of the Faith, more than did Ben Emeal; yet
+his love for his only son and his confidence in his own ability to
+deal with such a subject in connection with that son, led him to
+have little anxiety, in spite of the warning.
+
+It was not possible that Ahmed could have met the infidel! Where
+could he even have heard of anything different from the doctrine of
+his father's Faith? It was absurd! Of late Ben Emeal had noticed a
+tendency in his son to question him upon subjects of life and
+religion; and, too, he had seen the boy several times sitting quiet
+as if in deep thought, an unusual attitude for a healthy, hearty
+youth; but he had supposed these things only the passing freaks of
+young manhood. For some time past Ahmed had sought to avoid marriage
+and he had never seemed to care for the pleasures of the harem;
+these things, too, were unusual, but Ben Emeal recognized in his
+idolized son the beginnings of an unusual man and was proud of him
+accordingly.
+
+A merry voice just beyond the purdah suddenly interrupted the
+father's thoughts and the curtain was lifted to admit a young man
+about eighteen years of age, of striking build and comeliness. With
+a gay and winning greeting the young fellow dropped upon the
+cushions beside the older man and soon Ben Emeal had forgotten his
+doubts in a lively discussion of the approaching durbar and the
+ceremonies attendant upon that function.
+
+But, after a pleasant hour together, just as they were about to
+separate for a brief siesta, Ahmed turned to his father with a
+slight frown and said:
+
+"Just before I came in this afternoon I met out here in the street
+before our house the strangest old man! He wore that dress that you
+call Arabian, I think, and he had on the green of our Prophet's
+kin, but he was staggering along the street muttering, 'The night is
+coming! Desolation is coming upon us!' or something like that. I
+went up to him to see if I could help him, and, also, to see if a
+kin of our Prophet could really have been drinking of the accursed
+cup; but I found no signs of intoxication about him, only signs of
+intense fear as he cowered against the wall, repeating his cry of
+desolation. Adjed, the silversmith, came up just then and took him
+in charge or I should have found out more about him. Strange, wasn't
+it? It really gave me an uncanny feeling as if it were a premonition
+of some danger," and the young man shook himself as if to shake off
+a lingering feeling of fear.
+
+Ben Emeal's face, as his son spoke, resumed the troubled expression
+which had been driven away by Ahmed's former lively conversation and
+he said to the lad very solemnly as they both rose and he put a hand
+on the youth's shoulder:
+
+"My son, you never forget, do you, that first of all in this world
+you are a follower of the true Prophet and that your first business
+in life is to convert or destroy the infidel?"
+
+The son did not reply except with another question. "Father, can I
+not go to the university at Aligarh to learn more of our Faith?"
+
+"I will see; I will see, my son," replied the father genially and
+his face cleared as if the question had put his fears at rest.
+
+"I will see, my son," he said again as he turned to the door leading
+to his own apartment where he would take a few pulls at the hookah
+before he should give himself up to his afternoon rest.
+
+Ahmed went to his mother's chamber where with his head upon her
+knee, her proud eyes gazing down upon the handsome face of her son,
+the dearest possession of an Indian woman's life, and her loving
+fingers smoothing his rich, dark hair back from his brow, he fell
+very soon into the refreshing sleep of youth.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When Ahmed awoke from his restful sleep, he found his mother still
+supporting his head and still gazing fondly down into his face. For
+a few moments he lay, returning her smiles. Suddenly his face
+clouded.
+
+"Mother, why is it that you can never leave this house, this
+walled-in courtyard; why is it that you cannot ride out with me in
+the open and look upon the trees and the grass and the blue sky? It
+does not seem right that I should be allowed to look upon all these
+things and you not."
+
+"Hush, my son!" answered his mother. "It is the law of the Prophet.
+What he commands must be right. But, see, there is the blue sky, and
+here are my green tree and my grass and sometimes I even may ride
+out in an ekka and peep through the curtains, and once, my son, many
+years ago, I rode on a railway train and saw through the shutters
+miles and miles of green grass and flowers and so many, many
+beautiful things that I shall always be happy because of that
+sight."
+
+Ahmed looked from the beautiful but sad face of his mother up at the
+patch of sky bounded by the four gray, brick walls; he looked at the
+lone, gray-green tree trying to grow in a foot or two of garden in
+the middle of the paved courtyard, and at the grass, already giving
+up its struggle for life, about its roots, and his heart ached for
+this lonely woman. For he knew that although she was his father's
+only wife at present, because she had borne him, Ahmed, to Ben
+Emeal, he knew that she saw little of his father, for there were
+many concubines in the home who not only usurped her place in her
+husband's life but who, also, in many, many ways made her life far
+from happy in the home. He knew that really he himself was her only
+joy and comfort and he rebelled. Ahmed had been taught that a woman
+has no soul. Did he doubt the words of his teachers as he gazed into
+his mother's eyes?
+
+"Mother, why are you called 'Ahmed's mother' instead of your own
+name when the people of the household speak to you? Why are you so
+'blest in' me as they say?"
+
+"Because, my son--surely you must know by this time that a woman is
+no better than a beast; 'a cow' the Prophet calls her; and that she
+can only enjoy life through the son that she bears. Ah, how rich I
+am in you! But suppose you had not come to me, Ahmed, my son!" and
+her face became drawn with the thought. "Suppose I had been as my
+sister who has no son!"
+
+The youth could not bear to add to his mother's unhappiness by
+having her dwell upon such thoughts and so he playfully pulled down
+her face and kissed her and teased her to show him the wedding
+garments which she was embroidering for him.
+
+"When is it to be?" he asked.
+
+"After the month of fasting, my son."
+
+"Is she beautiful?"
+
+"I know not, my son. But surely she must be for such a handsome man
+as thou art."
+
+"Dost thou want me to have a wife, mother?"
+
+The mother's face was crossed with a spasm of pain at the question,
+for when his wedding came, she felt that she would have lost her
+son, her only joy in life. She knew that she had such a son as few
+mothers in all India and she knew that their loving relationship and
+companionship was very unusual. But he must marry and as a woman she
+must not show grief; in fact, being a woman, she had no grief. So
+she mastered her pain in a second and replied, but not so quickly
+that it deceived Ahmed:
+
+"Yes, my son, as every true follower of the Prophet must, so must
+thou marry and beget sons. But thou canst still love thy mother a
+little," she added shyly.
+
+"That I will," affirmed the son blithely. "But," he went on crossly,
+"I don't want to marry and be bothered with a wife. Mother, I'll
+tell you what I really want to do. I want to go to our university at
+Aligarh where I can learn all about our Faith and about everything
+else, mother. I want to be a great man."
+
+"Not a great man, my son, but a great follower of the Prophet! Why,
+the sky has clouded and there comes some rain!"
+
+"Oh, ho! I must get me up and away, for I promised a friend I would
+come and read with him for a time."
+
+"Is it The Book, my son?"
+
+"No, mother, it is something new which some one gave him one time on
+the train. We have been reading it together for months now. It is
+very beautiful, all about Jesus who is coming at the end of the
+world, you know."
+
+"Yes, I know, my son, for I have read The Book----"
+
+"It is strange, mother, that you can read, for Elid's mother cannot,
+nor can any woman in Ajar's household, he says, nor can any other
+woman in this," interrupted the son. "And besides, mother, the other
+young men I know never seem to spend any time with their mothers at
+all or talk to them or even love them, it seems to me."
+
+"Yes, my son, it is strange, for ours is not the ordinary life, nor
+has my lot been the ordinary lot of woman here. My father taught me
+to read when I was a little child, for he became blind and then I
+could read to him, for I was quicker and more willing to do it than
+the boys. My father was a great scholar and I know The Book by
+heart, but little joy has come to me since my marriage for my
+knowledge," she sighed. "Your father respects me no more than he
+does his latest concubine. I have respect here only because of you,
+my son," and her eyes feasted upon his fair countenance. "Go now, my
+son, to thy friend, but beware of new things, for what is new often
+offends the Faith." With these words she left Ahmed as he lifted the
+purdah, having followed him as far as her woman's feet were
+permitted to go.
+
+But Ahmed trod on through the narrow streets, although the rain was
+pouring, for he did not want to miss the reading which was giving
+him such a different outlook upon life. Why, really, it was a
+"blasphemous thought," but this new book seemed to him to be greater
+than the Koran. It had given him such a new vision. Never had he
+thought much about his mother's life and position before reading
+this book, but now his mind was quickened to understand her
+condition. This book said, "Honour thy father and thy mother," and
+it did not seem to exclude woman from any joys, even those of
+Paradise. He was so eager to know more, especially since the
+conversation with his mother that afternoon, that he wondered if his
+friend would let him take the book home with him to study by
+himself.
+
+As Ahmed went on in the rain his thoughts turned from the new book
+to a man whom he had met several times the past year outside the
+walls of Hyderabad on the big bridge. The man's peculiar bearing of
+kindness towards any one in trouble and his happy face had attracted
+the youth. They had talked together once or twice and the man whom
+Ahmed supposed to be a Hindu had told him that he was a Hindu no
+longer, but a follower of the "Jesus Doctrine." The boy had
+wondered what it could mean, for never had he been so drawn to a
+stranger as he had to that man whose whole thought had seemed to be
+how he could help some one else. One day Ahmed saw this man actually
+help a woman place her water jar on her head and a moment later get
+down in the dust of the road and help a coolie pile up again a mass
+of fuel dung-cakes which had been knocked over by a passing cart;
+and yet this man was a scholar, as Ahmed knew by his conversation,
+and no outcast. The boy wondered as he thought it over now if the
+new book which he had been reading could have any connection with
+what this man had called the "Jesus Doctrine." The more he thought
+about it the more it seemed to him that that man's actions had been
+the carrying out of the precepts of the new book.
+
+Ahmed had not paid much heed to his steps as he had splashed along
+in the rain, trying as far as possible to keep under the protection
+of the buildings from the rain which seemed to be coming in torrents
+from the south. He was wrapped in his thoughts.
+
+But suddenly his steps were stayed, for he heard a weird, awful cry,
+and in a corner of the porch of the house that he was passing he saw
+a figure on its knees in prayer. The attitude was conventional and
+in no way terrifying, but the words and voice had startled him.
+
+"Night is coming! The wildness of desolation will soon be upon us!
+Oh, Allah, Allah, hear the cry of the faithful!"
+
+The voice was that of one whose soul was in mortal agony, and as
+Ahmed stooped to look more closely, he recognized the old man whose
+voice he had heard a few hours before in front of his own door. He
+recognized, too, that the place where he was standing was the
+crossing of the Sidar Ways, a place a long distance from the road he
+had thought he was taking.
+
+He wondered what could have alarmed the old man, but, really
+frightened at the repetition of the awful words and the tone of the
+agonized voice, the young fellow did not go to the man's side, but
+hastened to find a return way to his friend's, whose home he had
+missed in the rain and the preoccupation of his thoughts. As he
+turned, for the first time he noticed that another man was standing
+close behind him. In the semi-darkness, he did not recognize him,
+but gave him the greeting of the Faith and hurried on. As he reached
+his friend's door, it gave the boy a queer, uncomfortable feeling to
+perceive that this same man was still behind him.
+
+An hour or so later Ahmed emerged from the house with the precious
+book concealed in his clothing, for his friend had warned him that
+he feared that a good Mohammedan would not read it and that he
+believed that it was the book of another faith. As such his friend
+had decided that he would read it no more. But Ahmed had said that
+it mattered not to him what faith it was, he thought it beautiful
+and he wanted to read it still more. So instead of permitting his
+friend to burn it as he had wanted to do, Ahmed had insisted upon
+taking it to his home for further study.
+
+He did not notice as he left Elid's house that a man slipped out
+from the shadows and followed him to his own door. Nor did he know
+that this man turned as soon as he had entered the house and made
+haste back to the crossing of the Sidar Ways where he aroused the
+strange old man from his paroxysm of fear and talked earnestly with
+him for some time.
+
+Within his mother's room by the light of the oil lamp Ahmed read and
+read, while his mother watched him and sewed on the wedding
+garments. Too engrossed to read aloud or even talk about what he was
+reading, he read on and on. Long after his mother had given up her
+vain efforts to get him to go to rest and had rolled herself in her
+blanket, he still bent over the book. He read until sleep finally
+blurred his mind and closed his eyes and the lamp burned out at his
+side.
+
+But Ahmed had noticed before he slept a name on the first page of
+the book, "Mission Press, Bangalore, India." It must be that those
+people could explain to him what this book meant. If he could only
+go to them! Never had words written or spoken stirred his heart as
+it had been stirred by this book. It must be of Allah and yet in all
+he had read he had found no mention of the Prophet. Since Elid's
+warning Ahmed seemed to feel that perhaps in reading this book and
+thinking these thoughts he was betraying the Faith, and yet, if all
+this he had been reading were true, it was better than the Faith and
+he could no longer believe as he had before.
+
+Could he in any way get to that "Mission Press" in Bangalore? Ahmed
+had never been but a few miles from Hyderabad; indeed, that was one
+reason why he had wanted to go to the university at Aligarh and
+another reason was that in the last few months he had begun to be
+dissatisfied with the Faith and thought that there they could
+certainly explain all to him. But now he preferred to go to
+Bangalore. It seemed as if he must go there: but instinctively he
+felt that he must conceal his reason for wishing to go. And so with
+his mind confused by these thoughts and the new ideas which the new
+book had brought him, ideas utterly foreign to all he had known
+before, he fell into a restless sleep.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It seemed to Ahmed as if some unseen force were ordering events when
+early on the next day he was called to his father's presence to find
+him unexpectedly ill and so ill that it would be impossible for him
+to leave the city and go to Bangalore on a very important matter of
+business. Ben Emeal could trust the business to no assistant and yet
+it had to be attended to on the next day. The only person whom he
+could trust was his son and that son until then had been not only
+ignorant of all business matters but also of travel, having never
+made a journey alone on a railway train. But when Ben Emeal saw that
+there was no other way to save to his name several thousands of
+rupees, he decided to give his son a rather hurried and, indeed,
+trying initiation into commercial life. The old Arab's warning
+against the infidel had not been forgotten, but the father did not
+think the risk too great to send his son away alone for the first
+time, as he thought the novelty of the journey and of assisting in
+business affairs for the first time would keep Ahmed's mind from
+dangerous thoughts, and besides,--it was a matter of much money.
+
+So Ahmed had been summoned to his father's presence and instructed
+in all the matters needful to the transaction of the business. When
+Ben Emeal saw the delight and eagerness with which the boy undertook
+the journey and the task given him he did not consider it necessary
+even to warn him against the possible meeting with the infidel in
+Bangalore.
+
+So Ahmed had started for the very place of all others that he wanted
+to visit, sent by his father--such a strange answer to the longings
+of the night before that he was filled with a feeling of awe. So
+impressed with the religious importance of this journey and with a
+divine ordering of it was he that he scarcely appreciated its
+novelty. Because of his ignorance of travel, his father had directed
+him to go first class; therefore, he had the compartment to himself
+for the whole journey and, since this was so, instead of gazing from
+the window and enjoying the new sights as he would have done a few
+days before, now he pulled out the new book and read the whole
+journey through.
+
+Although Ahmed had but one desire when he reached Bangalore, that of
+finding the "Mission Press," he went first, as he knew was right,
+and transacted the business entrusted to him. When that was over,
+then he began his search for the people who were responsible for
+"The Book." No longer did that title in Ahmed's mind belong to the
+Koran and for some reason or other he did not seek these people to
+be told that what The Book said was true; for he seemed to know
+himself that it was true, but he sought them for more knowledge and
+for an explanation of many things that he could not understand, and
+especially to find out the relation of the Prophet to it all, as
+Mohammed was not mentioned in The Book.
+
+Ahmed found the Mission Press to be a large brick building set back
+in a grassy compound. When, with a desire for secrecy which he could
+not exactly explain, he dismissed his gari at some distance from the
+gate and made the approach on foot, he was surprised to see another
+Mohammedan stop at the gate, but he did not recognize in him the man
+who had followed him from the crossing of the Sidar Ways to his
+friend's house the night before in Hyderabad.
+
+So without anxiety other than that which possessed him to learn of
+the new book, Ahmed entered the big building. Never having seen a
+press and not exactly knowing what the word implied, he was amazed
+at the whirring machinery and the offices of busy clerks. At a
+window he told his errand in a simple, straightforward way, pointing
+to the name of the press on the title page of The Book which he had
+drawn from under his clothing. The converted Hindu at the window at
+once led the boy to a small room within, where sat an American
+gentleman literally buried in manuscripts, proof sheets, and
+correspondence. But a quick resurrection took place at the clerk's
+whispered words and the American, a missionary, arose to greet the
+youth.
+
+For several hours they talked and prayed, each moment separating
+Ahmed farther from the faith of his father and drawing him closer to
+the faith taught by a stranger. Since the boy was not to return to
+Hyderabad until the next day, when the press closed for the night he
+went home to the mission compound with the missionary. And so
+engrossed was he in conversing with his new friend that he did not
+see that a man followed them all the way from the press building,
+indeed, the same man whom he had seen at the gate.
+
+It was not late in the evening when in the midst of their
+conversation, Ahmed turned abruptly to his missionary host and said,
+"I believe. I want to be a Christian. What must I do?"
+
+The missionary explained to him that the next step after belief was
+testimony, a testimony usually given by baptism, but that Ahmed
+could not think of being baptized until he had prayed long and
+earnestly over the matter. Indeed, it might mean death to him, for
+he himself must surely know the bitterness of the Prophet's
+followers. It would probably mean at the very least disinheritance
+and banishment from his father's home.
+
+"But I believe," cried Ahmed, "and if testimony is necessary for
+believers of this 'Jesus Doctrine,' then I must testify; I must be
+baptized."
+
+But the missionary was firm and although his heart glowed at the
+courage of the young man, little more than a boy, he would not yield
+but sent Ahmed to the guest-chamber with the counsel to pray about
+it.
+
+And for hours that night did Ahmed pray.
+
+When, in the early morning, he met the missionary in the
+drawing-room, his resolve was unchanged and his request of the
+evening before was repeated. "Baptize me now. I must be baptized for
+I must testify to the world that I believe," he said. His face shone
+with such a happy light as he pleaded that the missionary felt that
+no longer could he refuse to administer the sacrament asked for.
+
+"But it may mean death," again he urged.
+
+"Jesus died for me; you yourself have told me," replied Ahmed.
+
+"You will certainly lose your inheritance and be an exile from your
+family."
+
+"He gave up His inheritance in the skies and took exile upon
+Himself that He might bring life to me; can I not do as much in
+testifying for Him?"
+
+How the lad had learned so much of the Gospel and the very words of
+the Bible in such a short time was a marvel to the American
+preacher, but he did not know with what intensity the hungry heart
+of the youth had been studying the sacred pages.
+
+It seemed to the missionary, therefore, that it must be God's will
+that the young Mohammedan should be baptized. But he wanted it to be
+done in the presence of the congregation.
+
+"When could that be?" asked Ahmed.
+
+"Not for three days," replied the preacher.
+
+"But I must go to my home to-day!" exclaimed the young man.
+
+"Ahmed," the missionary's eyes were filled with perplexity and
+suffering, "Ahmed, it will be sure death if you go back to
+Hyderabad, I know. Will you not let me send you north where you can
+probably escape from notice until you have studied and are ready to
+preach the Gospel? Then you can come back and perhaps preach in
+safety to your people," he urged. "Wait here in secret in my home
+until the Sabbath. Then after the public service and public baptism
+before the congregation, I will spirit you away and you will be
+safe."
+
+The young man drew himself to his full height and his eyes glowed.
+"My father expects me to start for home to-night. I must obey. He
+has given me his trust. But more than that, I must hasten to tell
+them of what I have found--to tell my mother of a God who loves her
+and that she is not lost, but can be saved by believing in Jesus. I
+know that I shall die, but before then I shall have lived enough, if
+I succeed in taking the message to them. Can I not be baptized now,
+at once?"
+
+It was not in the missionary's province to detain such a messenger.
+With a tap of the bell he assembled the family for morning prayers,
+the heathen as well as the Christian servants attending, and in
+their presence he baptized Ahmed, the young Mohammedan, no longer a
+follower of the Prophet but of the Christ.
+
+As the missionary with his hand upon Ahmed's bowed head repeated the
+words in Hindustani, "I baptize thee in the name of the Father and
+of the Son and of the Holy Ghost," a Mohammedan glided from behind
+the draperies of a side window, through the half-opened shutters,
+and passed quickly and noiselessly down the driveway and through the
+compound gate.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Just before the gates of the city closed for the night the train
+from Bangalore deposited Ahmed at the station and he was safe
+within the walls of Hyderabad. He hastened through the narrow, dark
+streets to his own home, shunning the crowded bazaars and picking
+out the winding byways that lead between the high walls of the
+residence portion of the city near the river. A foreigner would not
+have imagined that the walls confining the dirty lanes within their
+narrow limits were the walls of the homes of some of the rich and
+influential Mohammedans of the great city. But so it was, for the
+barren, outward appearance of an oriental residence does not reveal
+the luxury within; and, besides, many of these Eastern people seem
+to prefer the luxury of costly jewels and raiment to that of
+beautiful surroundings and live on in the plain ways of the poorer
+natives with only the number of servants, the elegance of their
+dress, their indolence, and their indulgence in pleasures showing
+their wealth.
+
+Such was the home of Ahmed, plain, satisfying only the requirements
+of a simple native life. It covered much ground, for the number of
+servants and concubines demanded considerable room even for plain
+housing. But there was little display of wealth within except in the
+wearing of gold-embroidered robes and precious jewels. Only a
+succession of bare paved courtyards, with open and closed rooms at
+the sides, made up the house all practically unadorned except one
+in the centre of the house which was gorgeous in carving and inlaid
+work and faced a tiny, open mosque, also richly ornamented. The
+mosque was a most beautiful example of Indian skill in carving and
+stone work and about the niche which pointed towards Mecca were many
+passages from the Koran, inlaid in the marble with precious stones
+in a most delicate and marvellous way. Before the niche upon the
+marble floor were spread prayer rugs of great price. This was the
+private mosque of Ben Emeal and his household and he had thought the
+expenditure of thousands of rupees not too much for the adornment of
+his place of prayer.
+
+When Ahmed reached home, the servants told him that his father was
+at prayer in the mosque and did not wish to be disturbed before
+morning. Ahmed wondered what unusual happening could have called his
+father to a whole night of prayer. When he asked the servant more
+particularly about his father's health, he found that Ben Emeal had
+seemed much better until in the afternoon a strange old Arab had
+been admitted to his presence and since then he had been much worse,
+depressed in mind as well as body, and at times greatly agitated.
+
+Ahmed, feeling that he must not interrupt his father at such a time
+and wondering if it could be possible that his father's agitated
+condition could have come from a premonition of what he himself had
+done, hastened to his mother's apartment. Finding her asleep, he
+spent several hours in prayer for help and guidance for the coming
+day, for he knew that he could not and would not put off the
+revelation of his break with his father's faith longer than that,
+unless Ben Emeal's illness should grow more alarming.
+
+Meantime the rain had come again, even harder than upon the night
+that Ahmed had been abroad. In floods it was pouring down upon the
+city of Hyderabad and brimming the banks of the river. In a small
+house near the great bridge that spanned the river at the crossing
+of the Sidar Ways two men were sitting. One was the man who had been
+following the doings of Ahmed; the other, the old man from Arabia,
+whose face now reflected no terror, only the glow of a fanatic
+Faith.
+
+"He was baptized?" As he almost shouted the question, the old man
+leaned forward in his excitement. "I warned the father again this
+day in a manner that stirred him to the depths, but I did not really
+expect this so soon. Are you sure? Have you told our brothers of the
+council?"
+
+The other replied, "Why, of course I am sure, for I saw the act
+myself. Yes, I have reported to Ben Isah and he bade me tell you
+that just before noon we are to assemble with Ben Emeal and support
+his arm and his faith as followers of the Prophet. Of course the boy
+will recant and repudiate all this nonsense, he says, but he must be
+taught a severe lesson. 'There must be no trifling with the
+infidel,' were his very words."
+
+As the man ceased speaking a gust of wind bore the rain like sleet
+against the door of the house and the old man looked up with a
+hunted expression and his lips moved as if in prayer. The younger
+man looked at him in contempt and without another word threw himself
+upon a charpoy in the corner of the room and fell asleep, but the
+old man sank on his knees and remained in that position until dawn.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Ahmed's first thought with the coming of the new day was to tell his
+mother the good news and bring joy to her sad heart. Then he had
+determined that he would face his father and leave the rest in God's
+hands. His mother might lose her son, but she would gain far more in
+what this Jesus Doctrine would bring. So he greeted her with a happy
+heart.
+
+He told her all: of his own experience, his growing dissatisfaction
+with Mohammedanism, of his growing belief in the religion of the new
+book which he had studied for so many months, of his occasional
+meetings with the Christian man at the bridge, and, finally, of what
+he had done at Bangalore. Words could not come fast enough as he
+went on to explain the new faith to her and told her what it would
+mean for her, if she should believe. But, although it sounded very
+beautiful to her, she could not accept any doctrine in such a short
+time and she was listening to his words as yet with only a glad
+wonder in her heart, when a messenger suddenly summoned him to his
+father.
+
+Ahmed had almost forgotten his father in his eagerness to talk to
+his mother and bring her the good news; so he was remorseful when
+suddenly he realized that he had not even asked about his father's
+health since the night before, nor gone to him to report on the
+business matter which he had arranged in Bangalore. He went quickly
+after the messenger, for the moment again forgetful of the unwelcome
+news that he must bring to his father soon. He was surprised when he
+learned from the servant that Ben Emeal was still in the mosque and
+awaited him there. But his surprise became amazement when on
+entering the mosque he perceived a circle of the most influential
+Mohammedans of Hyderabad seated about his father on the floor. So
+accustomed was Ahmed to the habits of the faithful that without
+thought of its being a violation of his new faith, he slipped his
+feet from his shoes as he entered the mosque.
+
+As Ahmed approached the group he noticed at one side of his father
+the old Arab whom he had seen in such terror upon the street and at
+the other side the man whom he had met at the gate of the Mission
+Press in Bangalore. In a flash, as his eyes met those of the man who
+had spied upon him and saw the light of success in them, Ahmed
+understood the reason for this assemblage and for his being summoned
+thus as it were before a tribunal of the faithful. Instinctively his
+eyes sought his father and the drawn, haggard look upon that face,
+usually so strong and firm, rent his heart. Their eyes met and in a
+second each had read the message that the other loved him, come what
+might. Then the eyes of both fell and the lad awaited the charge.
+
+"Ben Isah," the voice of the man who had dogged Ahmed's footsteps
+demanded, "is it seemly that an infidel should stand within the
+sacred precincts of a house of prayer?"
+
+"Ben Idrahi," replied the most dignified and grave gentleman of the
+company as if he were a judge in a court and repeating the formulas
+of that august body;--and, indeed, he was a judge in a court that
+controlled life and death; "Ben Idrahi, whom accuseth thou of being
+an infidel? Are not all of us before you true followers of the
+Prophet and upholders of the only true Faith? Whom accuseth thou
+with such a terrible accusation?"
+
+"Ben Isah," the man rose and said slowly, "I have proof; I have
+proof, I say, that the youth, Ahmed, son of Ben Emeal, is no longer
+a follower of the Prophet; that in the city of Bangalore yesterday
+in the early morning he was baptized into the hell-filling creed,
+the name of which I will not defile my lips with. And now, Brothers
+of the Faith, he stands before you an avowed infidel."
+
+As the man announced the fact of his baptism in Bangalore, although
+Ahmed dared not look at his father, he felt that an involuntary
+shudder passed over Ben Emeal's frame. But at those words his own
+heart leaped and yearned towards these men. Then and there he longed
+to tell them the wonderful story of the God revealed through Jesus
+Christ, but he restrained himself.
+
+Ben Isah had turned towards him and all eyes except his father's
+were upon him, as the older man said:
+
+"Ahmed, son of Ben Emeal, is this, that this man accuseth thee of,
+is this true?"
+
+Ahmed could restrain himself no longer. This was his opportunity to
+testify and to men who probably would never hear the message from
+other lips. He took the opportunity with a skill and wisdom beyond
+his years.
+
+The words poured from his lips, even as the rain was pouring from
+the heavens into the courtyard of the mosque. His face glowed and
+his eyes shone with a light brighter than that of the clouded sun.
+Not a man moved. They listened, held by the fascination of the
+youth, as with a tempestuousness that seemed born of the very storm
+without and with a courage not born of man, he told them the truth
+as they would never hear it again.
+
+As he spoke his eyes were upon his father's face, who looked as if
+he were beholding a miracle. When he had finished, his hands still
+outstretched, his voice still ringing in their ears as he
+said,--"All that this man says is true. I am an infidel, as you say,
+for I have been baptized. I am a Christian,"--Ben Isah stumbled to
+his feet and with shaking hand held out, cried in agitated voice:
+"Stop! Stop him! This must cease! This must cease! Lay hands upon
+him! Take him from the mosque!"
+
+Confusion reigned as a couple of men seized Ahmed's arms and dragged
+him from the mosque while the other men raved at him in rage and
+hate because in spite of themselves they had listened to a
+blasphemer and the teachings of the infidel. The lad was carried to
+a side chamber where the two men stood over him, giving him no
+chance to escape. But Ahmed was not seeking that; his head was bowed
+in prayer.
+
+As they watched and waited the two men talked of the storm without,
+for the rain still fell in torrents and the wind blew; while above
+the sound of the wind and rain could be heard continuously the voice
+of the gorged and angry river.
+
+"If this continues, there will be trouble," said one, "for this
+morning the water was five feet higher than yesterday, they told
+me."
+
+"Yes," replied the other, "when I crossed the bridge a few hours ago
+the river was up to the first buttress; but there can't be any real
+danger, can there?"
+
+"It must be a warning to the infidel," answered the first, looking
+significantly at Ahmed, but he was unconscious of what they were
+saying.
+
+Soon the summons came and the lad was led into a large guest-chamber
+where his father received visitors of state. The men sat as before
+in the mosque, but their faces were dark and their eyes downcast.
+
+Again Ben Isah spoke, "Young man, because of thy youth, and for thy
+father's sake, we will give thee one chance, one only, to recant and
+unsay all thou hast said. Wilt thou take back thy words, repudiate
+this infidelity, and once more accept the true and only Faith?"
+
+Before Ahmed could reply Ben Emeal was upon his feet. "My son," he
+said in slow, restrained tones, "think well before thou speakest.
+Remember thou art my only son; remember that all my fortune will be
+thine. Thou canst go to the University at Aligarh; thou canst have
+thy heart's desire in everything, if thou wilt only recant!" He
+ended hurriedly.
+
+"If thou dost not, Ahmed, son of Emeal," shrilled the old Arab,
+rising to his feet, "thou shalt die. Choose thou and choose
+quickly!"
+
+The son looked at the father. Just then in the distance, through the
+downfall of the rain, there sounded dimly:
+
+"Allah is most great! Allah is most great! Allah is most great!
+Allah is most great! I bear witness that there is no god but Allah!
+I bear witness that there is no god but Allah! I bear witness that
+Mohammed is the Apostle of Allah! I bear witness that Mohammed is
+the Apostle of Allah! Come to prayer, come to prayer! Come to the
+Refuge, come to the Refuge! Allah is most great! Allah is most
+great! There is no god but Allah!"
+
+It was the Moslem's call to prayer and every man in the room fell
+upon his knees except Ahmed.
+
+Ahmed remained standing with bowed head. He made no effort to escape
+while the others were upon their knees. But as soon as they had
+finished their devotions, he stepped forward and in a clear, full
+voice said simply, "I choose death."
+
+A silence as of death itself fell upon the company. No one spoke.
+The boy remained standing with his hands out as he had spoken. At a
+motion from Ben Isah a servant stole to Ben Emeal's side and
+noiselessly placed a cup in his hands. The latter arose and stepped
+towards his son.
+
+With a stern, tense voice Ben Emeal broke the silence: "The infidel
+must die! This is the cup of death. Drink!"
+
+As he touched the cup to his son's lips a thunder as of mighty
+waters rose.
+
+"Night is coming! The wildness of desolation is upon us! Fly, fly!"
+shrieked the voice of the old Arab. But even as he cried a wave of
+water burst into the room through the open door.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The river rose sixty feet above the bridge they say and at least ten
+thousand of the inhabitants of Hyderabad were drowned in that one
+day.
+
+In one room in the house that had been Ben Emeal's, when the water
+subsided, they found as many as fifteen or twenty bodies and since
+most of them wore the Mohammedan rosary, all were given decent
+burial according to the customs of the followers of the Prophet.
+Thus an infidel was interred in holy ground and allowed to sleep
+beside his father.
+
+
+
+
+IN OTHER LANDS
+
+
+=Poland, the Knight Among Nations=
+
+With Introduction by Helena Modjeska.
+
+  Illustrated, Cloth, $1.50 net.  =LOUIS E. VAN NORMAN=
+
+Poland is worth knowing--it is interesting. How could it be
+otherwise when it gave us Copernicus, Kosciusko, Chopra, Paderewski
+and Sienkiewicz. Not much has been known about the people because
+they have been hard to get at. Mr. Van Norman went to Cracow, won
+the hearts of the people, was treated like a guest of the nation and
+stayed till he knew his hosts well, and he here conveys an extensive
+array of information.
+
+
+=The Continent of Opportunity:= South America
+
+  Profusely illustrated, $1.50 net.  =FRANCIS E. CLARK=
+
+Dr. Clark writes from a thorough-going tour of examination, covering
+practically every centre of importance in the South American continent,
+Panama, Chile, Ecuador, Peru, Argentine, Brazil, Paraguay and
+Uruguay. Dr. Clark's prime object has been to collect information of
+every sort that will help to understand the problems facing
+Civilization in our sister Continent.
+
+
+=China and America To-day=
+
+  12mo, Cloth, $1.25 net.             =ARTHUR H. SMITH=
+
+Dr. Smith is one of America's ablest representatives at foreign
+courts. He is not so accredited by the government of this country,
+but rather chooses to be known as a missionary to China. In this
+capacity he has learned much of China which in another relation
+might be denied him. Being a statesman by instinct and genius, he
+has taken a broad survey of conditions and opportunities and here
+presents his criticisms of America's strength and weakness abroad.
+
+
+=Ancient Jerusalem=
+
+  Illustrated. In press.           =HON. SELAH MERRILL=
+
+This work will immediately be recognized as authoritative and well
+nigh final. Dr. Merrill, as the American Consul, has lived at
+Jerusalem for many years, and has given thirty-five years of
+thorough, accurate study and exploration to this exhaustive effort.
+It contains more than one hundred maps, charts, and photographs.
+
+
+=Palestine Through the Eyes of a Native=
+
+  Illustrated, $1.00 net.       =GAMAHLIEL WAD-EL-WARD=
+
+The author, a native of Palestine, has been heard and appreciated in
+many parts of this country in his popular lectures upon the land in
+which so large a part of his life was spent. His interpretation of
+many obscure scriptural passages by means of native manners and
+customs and traditions is particularly helpful and informing.
+
+
+
+
+MISSIONARY
+
+
+=The World Missionary Conference=
+
+The Report of the Ecumenical Conference held in Edinburgh in 1910.
+In nine volumes, each, net 75c.; the complete set of nine volumes,
+net $5.00.
+
+A whole missionary library by experts and wrought up to the day and
+hour. The Conference has been called a modern council of Nicea and
+the report the greatest missionary publication ever made.
+
+  Vol. 1. Carrying the Gospel.
+  Vol. 2. The Church in the Mission Field.
+  Vol. 3. Christian Education.
+  Vol. 4. The Missionary Message.
+  Vol. 5. Preparation of Missionaries.
+  Vol. 6. The Home Base.
+  Vol. 7. Missions and Governments.
+  Vol. 8. Co-operation and Unity.
+  Vol. 9. History, Records and Addresses.
+
+
+=Echoes from Edinburgh, 1910=
+
+  By W. H. T. GAIRDNER, _author of "D. M. Thornton."_ 12mo, cloth, net
+$1.00.
+
+The popular story of the Conference--its preparation--its
+management--its effect and forecast of its influence on the church
+at home and the work abroad. An official publication in no way
+conflicting with the larger work--which it rather supplements.
+
+
+_HENRY H. JESSUP'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY_
+
+=Fifty-three Years in Syria=
+
+  Introduction by James S. Dennis. Two volumes, illustrated, 8vo,
+cloth, boxed, net $5.00.
+
+"A rich mine of information for the historian, the ethnologist and
+the student of human nature apart from the labors to which the
+author devoted his life. A thoroughly interesting book that will
+yield endless pickings."--_N. Y. Sun_.
+
+
+_ROBERT E. SPEER_
+
+=Christianity and the Nations=
+The Duff Lectures for 1910.
+
+  8vo, cloth, net $2.00.
+
+Among the many notable volumes that have resulted from the
+well-known Duff foundation Lectureship this new work embodying the
+series given by Mr. Robert E. Speer in Edinburgh, Glasgow and
+Aberdeen, will rank among the most important. The general theme,
+"The Reflex Influence of Missions Upon the Nations," suggests a
+large, important, and most interesting work.
+
+
+_G. T. B. DAVIS_
+
+=Korea for Christ=
+
+  _In press._
+
+An effective report of the recent revivals in Korea told by an eye
+witness, who himself participated in the work.
+
+
+_JULIUS RICHTER_
+
+=A History of Protestant Missions in the Near East=
+
+  8vo, cloth, net $2.50.
+
+A companion volume to "A History of Missions in India," by this
+great authority. The progress of the gospel is traced in Asia Minor,
+Persia, Arabia, Syria, and Egypt. Non-sectarian in spirit,
+thoroughly comprehensive in scope.
+
+
+_JOHN P. JONES, D. D._
+
+=The Modern Missionary Challenge=
+_Yale Lectures, 1910._
+
+  12mo, cloth, net $1.50.
+
+These lectures, by the author of "India's Problem, Krishna or
+Christ?" are a re-survey of the demand of missions in the light of
+progress made, in their relation to human thought. The new
+difficulties, the new incentives, are considered by one whose
+experience in the field and as a writer, entitle him to
+consideration.
+
+
+_ALONZO BUNKER, D. D._
+
+=Sketches from the Karen Hills=
+
+  Illustrated, 12mo. Cloth, net $1.00.
+
+These descriptive chapters from a missionary's life in Burma are of
+exceptional vividness and rich in an appreciation for color. His pen
+pictures give not only a splendid insight into native life,
+missionary work, but have a distinctive literary charm which
+characterizes his "Soo Thah."
+
+
+_JAMES F. LOVE_
+
+=The Unique Message and Universal Mission of Christianity=
+
+  12mo, cloth, net $1.25.
+
+A volume dealing with the philosophy of missions at once penetrating
+and unusual. It is perhaps one of the most original and valuable
+contributions to the subject yet made.
+
+
+_WILLIAM EDWARD GARDNER_
+
+=Winners of the World During Twenty Centuries=
+Adapted for Boys and Girls.
+
+A Story and a Study of Missionary Effort from the Time of Paul to
+the Present Day. Cloth, net 60c.; paper, net 30c.
+
+
+=Children's Missionary Series=
+
+  _Illustrated in Colors, Cloth, Decorated, each, net 60c._
+
+  =Children of Africa.= James B. Baird.
+  =Children of Arabia.= John C. Young.
+  =Children of China.= C. Campbell Brown.
+  =Children of India.= Janet Harvey Kelman.
+
+
+=The Foreign Missionary=
+An Incarnation of the World Movement
+
+  12mo, Cloth, $1.50 net.             =ARTHUR J. BROWN=
+
+Dr. Brown, out of a long and intimate experience deals with such
+questions as: Who is the Missionary? What are his motives, aims and
+methods? His dealings with proud and ancient peoples. His relation
+to his own and other governments? His real difficulties. Do results
+justify the expenditures? How are the Mission Boards conducted?
+etc., etc. The book is most intelligently informing.
+
+
+=The Conquest of the Cross in China=
+
+                                     =JACOB SPEICHER=
+
+  With Chart and Illustrations, 12mo, Cloth, $1.50 net.
+
+The contents of this book were first delivered as lectures to the
+students at Colgate University. Mr. Speicher has the true instinct
+of the news bringer. He has lived in South China long enough to know
+it thoroughly. He is distinguished by common sense in his judgments,
+made palatable by a free literary style.
+
+
+=China in Legend and Story=
+
+  12mo, Cloth, $1.25 net.           =C. CAMPBELL BROWN=
+
+By one of the C. M. S. best known missionaries. It consists of
+seventeen stories, true to legend or to fact, ten of them studies of
+the Chinese people as they are when heathen, and seven of them of
+the same people when they become Christians. The stories cover a
+wide range of social life, representing every class in the
+community, from mandarins to thieves and beggars. As Mr. Campbell
+Brown is a keen observer, and wields a graceful pen, the book is
+unusually interesting and valuable.
+
+
+=A Typical Mission in China=
+
+  12mo, Cloth, $1.50 net.              =W. E. SOOTHILL=
+
+"The book is comprehensive, instructive, well written, interesting
+and valuable in every way. Those who read it will get such a glimpse
+into Chinese life and methods as they may never have had, and will
+certainly be edified and stimulated to a new zeal in the work of
+missions."--_Herald and Presbyter._
+
+
+=Robert Clark of the Panjab=
+Pioneer and Missionary Statesman
+
+  8vo, Cloth, $1.75 net.           =HENRY MARTYN CLARK=
+
+"The record of one of the makers of Christian India: as fascinating
+as a novel, and immensely more profitable. The more widely this book
+is circulated and read, the better it will be for the missionary
+enterprise. A book of this character is the best apologetic that can
+be written."--_Missionary Intelligencer._
+
+
+
+
+MISSIONS, BIOGRAPHICAL
+
+
+_DR. GEORGE BROWN_
+
+=The Life of Dr. George Brown=
+Pioneer, Explorer and Missionary.
+
+  An Autobiography, with 111 illustrations and map. 8vo, Cloth, net
+$3.50.
+
+"Since the appearance of John G. Paton's Autobiography we have read
+no work of such entrancing interest. It is a narrative of this
+pioneer missionary's forty-eight years of residence and travel in
+Samoa, New Britain, New Ireland, New Guinea, and the Solomon
+Islands."--_British Weekly._
+
+
+_JESSE PAGE, F. R. G. S._
+
+=The Black Bishop=
+The Life of Samuel Adjai Crowther.
+
+  Preface by Eugene Stock, D. C. L., with frontispiece, sixteen
+illustrations and map. 8vo, Cloth, net $2.00.
+
+"The simple life-story, told mainly by himself, of a West African
+who was a kidnapped slave when a boy of fifteen and forty-three
+years later became the first negro bishop of the Church of England.
+Much information is given beside the biographical details, about the
+problems presented by the Nigerian peoples to their white rulers and
+particularly of the extent, influence and probable future of the
+Mohammedan invasion."--_Nation._
+
+
+_W. H. T. GAIRDNER, B. A._
+
+=D. M. Thornton=
+A Study in Missionary Ideals and Methods.
+
+  Nine illustrations, 12mo. Cloth, net $1.25.
+
+"The Student Movement" says: "It is likely to dominate the thoughts
+of the missionary thinker for many years." Devoted largely to
+experiences in Egypt and lessons gathered on this field--it tells of
+a man who devoted his intellectual powers to thinking out the wider
+problems of the evangelization of the world and the spread of
+Christian institutions in Mission lands.
+
+
+_GEORGE HAWKER_
+
+=The Life of George Grenfell,=
+Congo Missionary and Explorer
+
+  Illustrated, 8vo, Cloth, net $2.00.
+
+"This may be regarded as a companion volume to Sir Harry Johnston's
+'George Grenfell and the Congo'--it was, indeed, originally arranged
+that Sir Harry Johnston and Mr. Hawker should collaborate in a
+single volume as a memorial to one of the greatest names in the
+annals of equatorial Africa."--_London Times._
+
+
+_REV. JAMES WELLS, D. D._
+
+=Stewart of Lovedale=
+
+  The Romance of Missions in Africa told in the Life of James Stewart,
+D. A., M. D., F. R. G. S. With forty-two illustrations and two maps.
+8vo, Cloth, net $1.50.
+
+"We may heartily congratulate Dr. Wells on having written a book
+that will live, and more than that, a book that will create life
+wherever it is read."--_Dr. Robertson Nicoll, in the British
+Weekly._
+
+
+
+
+TRAVEL, MISSIONARY
+
+
+_H. G. UNDERWOOD_
+
+=The Call of Korea=
+
+  _New Popular Edition._ Paper, net 35c. Regular Edition, 12mo, cloth,
+net 75c.
+
+"As attractive as a novel--packed with information. Dr. Underwood
+knows Korea, its territory, its people, and its needs, and his book
+has special value which attaches to expert judgment. Particularly
+well suited to serve as a guide to young people in the study of
+missions."--_Examiner._
+
+
+_WILLIAM O. CARVER_
+
+=Missions in the Plan of the Ages=
+Bible Studies and Missions.
+
+  12mo, cloth, net $1.25.
+
+As Professor of Comparative Religion and Missions in the Southern
+Baptist Theological Seminary at Louisville, Dr. Carver has prepared
+in these chapters the fruit of many years' study. His aim is to show
+that the foundation principles of the Christian task of world
+conquest are found in the Bible not so much in the guise of a
+commanded duty as in the very life of the Christian faith.
+
+
+_ANNIE L. A. BAIRD_
+
+=Daybreak in Korea=
+
+  Illustrated, 16mo, cloth, net 60c.
+
+There can never be too many missionary books like this. A story
+written with literary skill, the story of a girl's life in Korea,
+her unhappy marriage and how the old, old story transformed her
+home. It reads like a novel and most of all teaches one, on every
+page, just what the Gospel means to the far eastern homes.
+
+
+_ISABELLA RIGGS WILLIAMS_
+
+=By the Great Wall=
+
+  Selected Correspondence of Isabella Riggs Williams, Missionary of
+the American Board to China, 1866-1897. With an introduction by
+Arthur H. Smith. Illustrated, 12mo, cloth, net $1.50.
+
+"This volume is a little window opened into the life and work of an
+exceptionally equipped missionary. It was at Kalgan, the northern
+gateway of China, that a mission station was begun amid a people
+hard and unimpressible. It was here that Mrs. Williams won the
+hearts of Chinese women and girls; here that she showed what a
+Christian home may be, and how the children of such a home can be
+trained for wide and unselfish usefulness wherever their lot is
+cast. No object-lesson is more needed in the Celestial Empire than
+this. Many glimpses of that patient and tireless missionary activity
+which makes itself all things to all men are given."--_Arthur H.
+Smith, Author of Chinese Characteristics, Etc._
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's note:
+
+Minor punctuation errors have been corrected without note.
+
+The phrase 'dung cake' was changed to 'dung-cake' in The Infidel:
+"mass of fuel dung-cakes" to make it consistent with Old Sarah: "at
+a fire of twigs and dung-cakes".
+
+Where the use/non-use of the hyphen is either not clear, or used in
+a consistent way, these have not been changed. These are
+'dirty-white', 'well-known', 'first-class', 'second-class',
+'third-class'.
+
+Changed '--' to ',' in "beautiful wife, as fair" in the list of
+illustrations for consistency with the caption and the text.
+
+Inserted 'the' in the notes relating to The Continent of
+Opportunity: South America-"of importance in _the_ South American
+continent".
+
+Replaced Krisha with Krishna in notes relating to the Modern
+Missionary Challenge-"India's Problem, _Krishna_ or Christ?".
+
+James Stewart's qualifications were actually D. D., M. D., F. R. G. S.,
+see: The Romance of Missions in Africa told in the Life of James
+Stewart, D. A., M. D., F. R. G. S. (not corrected).
+
+
+
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