<1^ ''J- ■f^ .i' '>^^\ '-^/. .A^ .. ..or,-^otV LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS" NEW YORK CHARLES T. DILLINGHAM 1883 Copyright, 1882, By lee and SHEPARD. All rights reserved. University Press : John Wilson and Son, Cajirridoe. TO MY FRIEND, REV. CHARLES W. PARK, Slmcrtcan iilififiii0ttarp of ^ombap, AS A FEEBLE EXPONENT OF A TROPICAL ESTEEM, %\)i6 ^oofe 10 2DeDtcateD« '^K ONTENTS. I. A Flash of Lightning II. The Wishbone Night ..... III. Being Heroes IV. Out on the Ocean ..... V. Old Joe, the Quartermaster .... VI. Whaling off Gibraltar .... VII. Algiers and Engineering . . . VIII. Sights in the Suez Canal .... IX. Arabia and her Water-Babies X. Paul among the Hindus . . . . XI. Wild Life on the River, and a Hindu Feast XII. Scott in the Mysteries of India XIII. Snakes . . . XIV. In Palanquin and Row-boat XV. A Home among the Hindus .... XVI. Tigers . XVII. A Harem XVIII. An Elephant Fight and a Mountain Ride XIX. Thugs and Traitors XX. Pilgrims, Priests, and People Everywhere XXI. Among the Palaces ...... XXII. ^Delhi, Dennett, and Dhondaram XXIII. Scott at the Hindu Feast .... XXIV. You shall be my Hari-Sahib XXV. Scott's First Tiger, and Final Prize . XXVI. It was my own Dhondaram .... I 9 i6 24 42 60 75 86 100 117 140 167 195 210 234 267 284 309 348 360 381 397 408 418 454 471 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE HE Elephant Fight ..... Frotitispiece Haying ......... 2 Roderick Dennett's Wife . . . . -4 Richard Raymond ....... 5 By the Sea, and the Pines and the Oaks .... 8 The Wishbone Night ,11 The Interview . . . . . . . . . -13 Richard Raymond and Scott Clayton . . . . 17 It takes more than Bravery to make a Hero . . . 19 Bess and her Pet ......... 22 Where Scott forgot Himself . , 25 Entering the River Mersey „ . . . . , 29 Scene in Liverpool . . . . . . . ..31 The Ragged Newsboy .......'. 38 Inside a Bus .......... 39 The Porter's Portion ........ 45 Old Joe, the Quartermaster . . . . . . -51 Rocks to Starboard, Rocks to Port, and ' a Cliff Dead Ahead . . . . . . . . . . 55 The Rock of Gibraltar ........ 63 Moor ready for Action ....... 66 The Faithful Dog . . .71 The Despatches must go 73 In the Bazaar . . -77 In Memory of a Pleasant Hour . . . . . 81 On the Suez Canal 89 viii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. ix PAGE In the Captain's Room , . io6 Paul and the Hag . . . . . . . . .122 Dhondaram . . . , . . . . . . . 128 Daughters of Kali . -131 Boats and Boatmen of the Ganges . . . . . 133 A Curious Contrivance I37 Crocodiles 138 "They are coming to bathe the Idol" 141 The Mad Elephant ........ 145 The Long Road 148 The Goddess Kali 149 Native Huts . .154 Native Cart 157 The Beggar's Boy . '159 The Hindu Feast 161 A Narrow Street . 165 Coast of Bombay 168 Jugglers 171 Serpent-Charmers 174 Fruit-Seller , 177 Going to Market 178 To Malabar Hill . .180 In the Bazaar 183 Hindu Mendicant 187 Esofali's House 190 Five Years Old . 193 The Cotton-Brokers 196 Moro 197 Sayad 198 Carriage of Hindu Lady . . . . . . . . 201 More Snake-Charmers 203 The Crowd became denser . . . . . . . 204 The Festival of the Serpents ' . 207 Sapwallah 208 X LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE The Palanquin 212 Being Shaved .......... 214 The Postman . . . . . . . . . . 215 A Hindu Temple 218 The Musicians 220 Schoolboys saluting 222 Under a Priest 223 Caves of Elephanta . . . 226 Marriage of Siva 227 A Katwadi 228 Wandering Munis . . 231 A Bramhan and Pilgrims 239 The Doctor's Patient 244 All for Three Cocoanuts 246 The Beautiful Tank . . 249 The Water-Carriers ■ . . . 250 He is sacrificing to his Tools 253 The Cobra and Mongoose 254 "She recognizes me" 255 " He seemed to enjoy the Show " 259 A Fatal Leap 262 Surprised by Uninvited Guests 263 An Old-time Mail-Train 264 That Wonderful City . . 268 " Throw a Stone in there " 273 A Sudden Appearance . . 276 The Convert's Work 279 Tiger-Hunting . . .281 The Scent of the Kitchen 282 Coolies in Camel's Hair ~ . . . 285 Native Street . 287 Beating Rice 288 The King's Courtesy 291 The Host's Mother . . • . . 296 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. xi PAGE In the Harem . . . . . . . , 299 The Pretty Waiter . . . .... . . 304 Kashee and the Boy . ' 306 The Great Sultana . . . . . . . . . 308 Rhinoceros Fight . . . . , . . , . 315 The Dak Garri 318 The Slaughter-House 319 A Native Pottery . . . 322 Narbada River 323 The Marble Gorge . . . . . . . . . 327 Like the Cedars of Lebanon 330 The Mountain Village 332 The Old Man and his Wives 334 A Hindu driving Bullocks ....... 335 The Dye-House . . . 343 Thugs 345 The Old Fort . . . 349 "There is no Need to bind me, Captain" . . . -353 Scene of the Massacre of Two Thousand Hindus by the British ..354 The Scene of Nana Sahib's Massacre of the British . 356 Preaching the Insurrection 358 Benares . . . . . . . . . . . 361 Temples by the River 366 Burning the Dead . . . . . . ". . : 368 The Beautiful Marble Ghats 369 The Observatory . . . , . . . . -370 A Funeral Procession . ■i^'jt^ The Old Tope at Sarnath ....... 378 The Famous Delhi Gate 382 Palace Court and Taj Mahal in the Distance . . . 385 The Balcony . . . . . . . . • , . 387 The Beautiful Gate 388 The Taj from the Garden . . * . . . . . 389 xii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE A Rajah of the Good Old Days ...... 393 Advertising Rocks 394 The Tomb of Selim Christi ....... 395 The Railway Bridge over the Jumna at Delhi . . 398 Delhi of Three Thousand Years ago , . . . . 400 The Cashmere Gate of Delhi ...... 405 Massuri in the Mountains ....... 416 The Dye*6 . . . . 421 Dhondaram in Armor ........ 423 The Corn-Chandler ........ 427 Bathing an Idol .......... 428 The Merchant . . . . . . . . . 432 The Day's March through the Mountains . . . . 433 The Cloud Mountain by the Moon 435 Up among the Snows . . . . . . . . 437 The Golden Temple 438 A Curious People 440 The Wood-Cutter . . . . . . . . 441 The Shepherdess 442 The Black Gorges . . . . ... . . 443 The Camp on the Heights 447 He heard a Sharp Report . 451 Rajpoot Guard 455 The Mountain Coolies 457 Scott's First Tiger . . 459 "Paul! Paul!" 469 GUNGA . . . . . 475 Black Marble Chamber . 479 The Last of India ......... 483 Our boys in India. CHAPTER I. A FLASH OF LIGHTNING. ANY who were boys in Massachusetts only a few years ago will well remember a startling -;C^''"'_< t notice that was printed in the newspapers, and was posted in conspicuous positions throughout the State, declaring in great letters, — A CHILD MISSING ! — TWENTY THOUSAND DOLLARS EEWAED. Paul Clayton, the youngest son of Benjamin Clayton, president of the Merchants' and Shippers' Bank of Boston, has been missing from home since Aug. lo. It is supposed that the boy was stolen, between the hours of eight and nine on the night of the loth of August, from the summer residence of Mr. Clayton, at Beverly Farms. He was six years old, had long, brown curling hair, a full face, hght complexion, blue eyes, and rosy cheeks. He was a particularly happy- tempered and affectionate child, large for his age, and unusually mature and intelligent. Any one giving information that shall result in his recovery will receive the sum of twenty thousand dollars. (Signed) PHINEAS SHARP, Chief of the Boston Detective Bureau^ Boston, Mass, OUR BOYS IN INDIA. There may be some who even followed one clew or another, partly out of sympathy for little Paul Clayton, and partly at- tracted by the large reward. But the first five days went by without the desired information. The farmers had almost finished their haying, and they were glad of it; for upon that 15th there was a terrible thunder- storm, that tore up and threw down every thing in the fields ^ K that would yield to it. At six o'clock the sun came out again ; but in an hour it set in dense clouds, and a lingering storm set in, that lasted several days. Richard Raymond had returned from India only two days before. He went directly to his sister's house in Beverly. She was his only living relative ; and that was the old homestead that he had left, as a boy, now nearly twenty years before. Anxious to see the old landmarks again, and supposing that the storm had broken up, he took advantage of the cool air and the momentary sunshine to go out for a stroll. A FLASH OF LIGHTNING. 3 In fifteen minutes he was buried in the pine forests, that every one who has ever been there will remember, extending between Beverly and Beverly Farms, The dry, sandy soil had rapidly absorbed the water that had poured down upon it ; and Richard Raymond wore a pair of boots so thick, that he did not even notice the drops yet clinging to the ferns and blueberry- bushes. He was thirty-five years old ; but he felt like the boy of fifteen again, as he once more pushed his way through the low branches, stopping now and then to pick a leaf of winter- green, hard and tasteless, though it was in the middle of August. His heart was full of sunshine. He did not even notice that the real sunlight was again enveloped in dense clouds, and rapidly fading out of the east, till drops began to patter on the leaves, and the wind to sigh in a moist and rainy way through the branches of occasional oaks that grew among the pines; but it sounded so natural, — so much like what he had often heard when a boy, — that he only laughed, and felt so much the more at home. Still he kept on his walk, till suddenly he realized that it was becoming very dark ; and he stopped for a moment to wonder where he was, and what direction he should take to go back again. Every thing was changed, to the very forests. He did not remember the old paths so well as he thought, even those that were the same as they had been twenty years before. In fact, he very soon came to the conclusion that he was lost. And, as if the clouds were laughing at him, they began to pour down the rain almost as fast as they had in the afternoon. Then the lightning flashed : but this was fortunate, for in the light he discovered that he was very near a road ; and, reaching it as soon as possible, he drew himself close to the trunk of a tree, to wait there till some team should pass or the rain should cease. OUR BOYS IN INDIA. Neither of these things happened at once ; but, before he had been there very long, he heard some one muttering. It was a woman's voice : she was talking to herself. In a moment more a flash of lightning disclosed the figure of a woman, with torn clothes and a very pale face, creeping along the road, drip- ping with water, wring- ing her hands, and wail- ing in words that he could not understand. Richard Raymond spoke to her. She gave a faint cry of fear at first ; but then she caught his hand, and burst into tears. He could just see her as she stood close beside him. " O sir ! save me, save me ! " she cried. " Find my husband for me, and I will give you — I will give you — any thing, any thing ! " The woman was evi- dently insane ; and, as she clasped Richard's hand, something that she was holding fell to the ground, but she did not notice it. " Is your husband lost, my good woman ? " asked Richard gently. " What was his name ? " The poor woman dropped his hand, and, covering her face, began to cry again, sobbing, " Oh, his name was Roderick, A FLASH OF LIGHTNING. 5 Roderick Dennett ! and we were married only a month ago ; and now he has left me forever. He has been gone five days. Oh, he has gone forever ! Yes, gone forever, I know." Richard Raymond started when the woman pronounced that name ; and in the darkness and the pouring rain, and a strange conflict of thoughts that had been produced by the sound of the word that was very familiar to him, he did not notice that the woman had suddenly left him. But she was gone. He could not tell in which direction. He called, but she did not answer. He remerribered that she had dropped something, and stooped and picked it up. It was evidently a little watch and chain. He walked rapidly down the road, but could not find her. A few minutes later Mr. Ray- mond had discovered lights in windows close at hand, and soon found himself sheltered in a little station a few miles from Beverly, on a branch road. He was still richakd kaymond repeating that name " Roderick Dennett ; " for he and Roderick Dennett ran away to sea together twenty years before, and together wandered as far as India. There Richard had dropped the sowing of wild oats, and by diligent application had become a wealthy man ; but Roderick had lived by deceiv- ing every one with whom he had any thing to do. At the end of ten years he left India, and Richard knew no more of him, till now he suddenly heard the name again ; and, as ever, it was connected with crime. Richard looked at the little watch that he still held in his hand. It was a silver hunting-case. He opened it. It had 6 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. run down. On the inside of the cover the name "Paul" was engraved in the silver. He shut it up again, and went on think- ing, while he waited for a train. As he sat there, his eyes wandered over the room, and finally rested on a notice calculated to attract attention. It was under the large head-line, — "A CHILD MISSING!" and three times he read the notice through, then suddenly opened the little watch again, and read the name engraved on the cover, " Paul." He began putting the facts together that had so curiously come under his notice all in a single hour. " He left her five days ago," he said to himself. " Five days ago was Aug. lo. I wonder if there can be any connection be- tween the Paul Clayton on the notice there, and the Paul whose name is in this watch, and Roderick Dennett, whose wife was carrying it an hour ago ! " A train whistled, and drew up at the station. Richard seated himself in it, and safely reached his home. The next day he went to Boston, and soon learned that the name of Roderick Dennett was upon many lips as connected with a crime more bold than he had ever committed in India, and that the man had disappeared. Officers were eagerly searching for him, but with no clew ; and no one connected him with the abduction of the missing child, Richard said nothing of his suspicions : but, at the earliest possible opportunity, he went to New York ; and, after a week of work that would have surprised even the Boston Detective Bureau, he came to the conclusion that a Benjamin Shipman and daughter, who sailed from there upon a Mediter- ranean steamer, of the Anchor Line, at noon on the nth of A FLASH OF LIGHTNING. 7 August, were none other than Roderick Dennett and the miss- ing Paul Clayton. He had no real authority for this, and the police-officers would have laughed at hini had he told them upon what frail ground he based his belief. Yet he felt so sure of it, that, had he had the power, he would have had this Benjamin Shipman arrested, and brought back to America : but the steamer had been gone for thirteen days before he became positive, and by that time she would have passed the Straits of Gibraltar ; and he fancied that Roderick Dennett would have taken passage upon the first connecting steamer for India, Richard Raymond had now become thoroughly interested in the matter ; and, though he saw the folly of laying his suspicions before the officers, he was resolved to see the father of the miss- ing child, and, placing the facts before him, offer his services. While he is on his way back to Beverly, intent upon going over at once to the Farms, let us, too, turn to the home of the little Paul Clayton as it was upon the evening of the loth of the month. THE WISHBONE NIGHT. CHAPTER II. THE -WISHBONE NIGHT. ENJAMIN CLAYTON'S cottage at Beverly Farms was one of the prettiest In that beautiful forest skirt- ing the coast. It was built in the old Gothic style, with long windows ; and when the lights shone through them at night, they seemed like some of the old castle windows of Europe. The sea dashed against the rocks upon one side of the road, and the pine forest surrounded the house on the other. Beverly Farms is so near to Boston, that Mr. Clayton could go to the bank in the city every day almost as conveniently as though he remained at his city home ; so that all summer and every summer his four happy children, Scott, Bess, Paul, and Kittie, romped in the forest, or played upon the seashore. Kittie was the baby-girl. Paul was the youngest boy. On the tenth day of August he was six years old. Bess was nine, and Scott was fourteen. They were all the world to each other, and their happy home was almost a heaven to them. The Gothic cottage was filled with children on this loth of August. Paul was enjoying a birthday party with his friends. It was the lucky " six," and hence was made a wishbone party; and every little couple was given a wishbone to secure for them- selves the best thing that heart could think of on this auspi- cious occasion. There was something superstitiously sacred in the wishing ; and there was something so sacred to the brothers lO OUR BOYS IN INDIA. and sisters in each other, that they stole away by themselves, after the wishbones had been distributed, to break them where no one else could see or hear. "What do you wish for, little Paul?" cried Bess with a merry laugh. Paul was thoughtful. His brow contracted in a studious way ; his blue eyes wandered up and down the brittle bone. " What do you wish for, Bess ? " he asked doubtfully. " I ? " said Bess. " Oh ! I wish you many happy returns of the day, of course ; but you must wish for something for your- self, you know." " Well," said Paul at last, " I wish that I might visit that wonderful land of India, that aunt Jane was telling us about this afternoon, I wish I might go all over India." " I withe tho too," lisped litde Kittie. "And I," said Scott, looking over Bess's shoulder, "I wish for an opportunity to be a hero." "What a funny wish!" cried Bess; "but pull, brothers, pull ! Now : one, two, three ! " and the wishbones snapped. Paul ran away to find his father, and tell him of the result. In the library sat Mr. Clayton and another gentleman. It required but a glance at the two to tell at once that both were in desperate earnestness over something. For two days Benjamin Clayton had worn a very serious face in his private office at the bank, for something had been going wrong. No one had noticed this at home ; for, while Mr. Clay- ton thought of nothing but his business in the city, he never brought any of it home with him, in his face at least, where the children could see it. He was the president of the largest bank in Boston ; and two days before, he had discovered some- thing in the cashier's accounts that the great bank examiner THE WISHBONE NIGHT. 12 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. had overlooked ; and the deeper he studied those accounts, the greater the fraud appeared, till, to his horror, he found that the cashier was a defaulter and a robber to the amount of nearly a half-million dollars. It seemed incredible that every one had been so blinded ; yet there were the figures, when Mr. Clayton gave them his attention, and the securities that had been left with the bank were gone. Mr. Clayton had said nothing to his cashier ; but with the quick suspicion of a guilty mind, that Shakspeare talks about, the cashier had discovered that he knew all about it, and to- night, in spite of the party, he had come out to the Farms, and was in earnest conversation with the president. Mr. Clayton listened without a word, while the cashier laid the whole matter before him, and ended in this way : — " Now, Mr. Clayton, the deed is done, and you have found it out. You were too smart for me by about a week. What I propose to do is this : I shall be at the bank late at night, on the last of the month, settling the accounts. I shall be attacked by men that I shall hire. They will break into the safe, and the next day there will have been a terrible robbery. As you have found me out, I shall have to divide with you. I shall take charge of disposing of the securities, and will give you, in good money, one quarter of a million dollars." Mr. Clayton was a man who had learned by long trial to control himself, and act carefully ; but this was something that was beyond his utmost will. He sprang to his feet. His face was flushed with anger. " Roderick Dennett ! " he exclaimed, " had you come to me with any show of penitence, I could have forgiven you, and done all in my power to make others forgive you too. But not for all the money in the world would I help you to cover up a crime." THE WISHBONE NIGHT. *• Then you will expose me ? " said Roderick sullenly. *' Most assuredly ! " replied Mr. Clayton, sitting down again. " You will be exposing yourself," said Roderick. " No one will believe that a half-million dollars could have been taken from the bank by the cashier without the knowledge of the THE INTERVIEW. president ; and it would be much better for you and the bank, as well as for me, if it went as a robbery." " I do not care if every one suspects me ! I do not care if I am imprisoned for life ! " exclaimed Mr. Clayton. " I would not aid you to steal a pin for all the money in Boston, or any other consideration. You are a miserable scoundrel ! a black- leg ! a villanous dog ! I will denounce you ! " " Stop ! " cried Roderick Dennett angrily. " Be careful ! I'll make you suffer for what you are saying ! " 14 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. Just as Mr. Clayton was about to reply, Paul came running into the room with the broken wishbone in his hand. " Papa, papa ! " he cried, " come down and wish with us. Oh, we are having such fun ! I've just wished that I might go to India, and I've got my wish. I know I'm going ; for it's the lucky night, you know." Here little Paul hesitated ; and with the broken bone in one hand, and his curly little head hanging to one side, he looked from his father to the stranger, and back again, for he saw that something was the matter. " Run away now, Paul," said his father : " you must not dis- turb me. I will come down by and by." He said it very kindly : but, after all, it was so different from the way in which he had always spoken, that Paul felt a great lump gather in his throat ; and, instead of going back to the merry party of children, he crept out on the veranda all alone, and began to cry. Some terrible words passed between the two men as soon as Paul had gone out, but no one ever knew what they were. The stranger went away very soon, but Mr. Clayton did not come out of the library. No one saw him till over an hour later, when his wife and Scott and Bess, in great anxiety, came hurrying into the room. For a moment they forgot their errand ; for there sat Mr. Clayton, just where Paul had left him, ghastly pale and terribly agitated. He did not notice them till his wife bent over him, and anxiously asked, — "What is it, Benjamin? What is it? Has any thing hap- pened to Paul ? " " To Paul ? " Mr. Clayton started to his feet ; for litde Paul was his petted boy, and at that moment, at least, seemed the dearest thing on earth to him. " We cannot find him. We have hunted everywhere," cried Bess, who could no longer restrain herself. THE WISHBONE NIGHT. 15 With his eyes fixed in a terrible stare, Mr. Clayton turned toward his wife. In her face he read the truth. With one groan he staggered backward, and fell upon the floor. It was a severe stroke of paralysis, and the night was sad enough in that happy family. The terrible danger in which the father stood distracted the attention partly from little Paul ; and at best they could not have known which way to turn, for no one knew of Roderick Dennett and the conversation that had passed in the library. No one knew of the terrible threats he had made, and of how little Paul had come into the library just when he was trying to determine what he could do to make Mr. Clayton suffer most. Mr. Clayton could have turned the search in the right direc- tion, and doubtless have arrested the fugitive and villain before he could have escaped, which Roderick Dennett was very fear- ful would come to pass. But the father's lips were sealed with paralysis ; and for weeks after the shock he did not speak a word, or hardly know what was transpiring about him. The sudden disappearance of the cashier, and the illness of the president, annoyed the officers of the bank : and, though the defalcation was not at once discovered, matters looked strangely suspicious ; and in two days the whole was known, and officers were sent to search for the fugitive. But it was two days too late. Roderick Dennett escaped without suspicion ; and, had it not been for one contingency, he might have lived for years, and perhaps died, without having any search properly directed. That contingency was the very last that he had looked for, — the presence of Richard Raymond on the scene. 1 6 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. CHAPTER III. BEINQ HEROES. ]T was on the thirtieth day of August that Richard Ray- mond introduced himself in the disconsolate home. He was ushered into the library ; and as Mrs. Clayton was engaged in assisting the doctor with her husband, it was some time before she appeared. Scott sat by the centre- table, with an open book before him ; but his eyes were swollen with crying, and his cheeks were wet with tears. He was not reading. The stranger came in so suddenly, that Scott had no opportunity to leave the room ; but he was ashamed to be found crying, and hid his face. Richard Raymond, with the true sympathy of an honest heart, realized the position : and, to try and make friends with the poor boy, he threw himself carelessly into an easy-chair beside him ; and, taking a book from the shelves at hand, he pretended for a time to be engaged in reading, Scott turned his head away, and rested his cheek in his hand, struggling to stifle the sobs that kept forcing themselves from his sad heart. This gave Mr. Raymond an opportunity to study him carefully for a moment, before he attempted to draw him into conversa- tion ; and, as he was a kind-hearted and shrewd man, he was at last able to succeed. " I used to roam about here when I was a boy like you," said Richard; "but there were no houses here then. And beyond the woods we used sometimes even to see wolves and BEING HEROES. 17 foxes. Once, when I was ten years old, I went in the winter to a field about half a mile from here with a boy who was older than I. We were pretending that we were pioneers, and had gathered some sticks to build a fire, and had brought some ap- ples and potatoes from home to bake. While we were at work, I looked up, and saw a large ani- mal just springing upon me. I could not tell whether it was a fox, or a wolf, or only a savage dog ; but, as I turned to run, he leaped, and threw me down. I fell upon my back, and he stood over me, with his great red tongue hanging out of his mouth, as I held him for life by the long hair on his throat. The boy who was with me had turned to run: but, when he saw me in trouble, he stopped ; and, coming back with the axe that we brought to cut the wood for the fire, he struck the creature RICHARD RAYMOND AND SCOTT CLAYTON. 1 8 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. a terrible blow behind the shoulders that almost cut him in two." " He was a very brave boy," said Scott. " Did he live to grow up a hero ? " " It takes more than bravery to make a hero," replied Mr. Raymond. " I wish I were a hero," said Scott with a deep sigh, " I have great need to be one now." And he turned his head away again ; and Richard, seeing that he was once more struggling with the tears, endeavored to change the subject by saying, — " Yes, the boy did live ; and he has grown up to be a sort of a hero in one way, but I fancy it is not the kind of a hero that you would like to be." "Tell me about him, sir," said Scott. "What is his name?" " It is Roderick Dennett," said Richard. " Roderick Dennett ! " exclaimed Scott, looking up. " Why, that is the name of the cashier of papa's bank." "It is the very same man," replied Richard. " But they say that he has run away with some of the bank money," said Scott in surprise. "That is beinor one kind of a hero, is it not?" asked Richard. " A very bad hero," said Scott. "That is precisely what I meant, that it takes more than bravery to be a true hero. It took bravery to rob the bank, but he would have been much stronger had he resisted the temptation." "Are there any wolves about here now, or foxes?" asked Scott wath a shudder. " Not many, I think," replied Mr. Raymond. " But why do you ask ? " IT TAKES MORE THAN BRAVERY TO MAKE A HERO. 20 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. " I was vv^ondering- if it could have been one of them that carried off brother Paul," said Scott, bursting into tears. "That is what I have come to see you and your mother about," Mr. Raymond replied at last ; " for I think that I know something about your brother Paul." Scott started to his feet ; but Mr. Raymond continued, " I believe it is the man who saved my life that has taken Paul away." " Mr. Roderick Dennett ! " exclaimed Scott. " Yes, Mr. Roderick Dennett. Do you know if he was about here on the night of the party ? " asked Richard. " Yes, sir, he was," replied Scott ; " for Bess and I saw him go through the hall, and go out, just a little while before we missed our brother. He hurried past us. Bess said, ' Good- evening, Mr. Dennett ; ' but he never noticed us. We thought it very strange, for he was always so kind when he came up to see papa. But I had forgotten all about it since then." " Do you know whose watch this is ? " asked Mr. Raymond, showing Scott the little silver watch that the poor woman had dropped on the ground. Scott seized it eagerly, exclaiming, with tears in his eyes, — - " O sir, it is Paul's ! It was his birthday present from papa. He wore it in the evening." Richard Raymond was satisfied that he was right, though all that he had built upon would have been thought a very frail foundation to a legal detective. Just then Mrs. Clayton came in with the good news that her husband was much better, and seemed thoroughly conscious again, though still unable to speak. Mr. Raymond told her briefly his suspicions, and the ground for them. His name was not entirely unknown to her ; and she put such confidence in what he said, that it was decided that he should see Mr. Clayton, even in his weak condition. BEING HEROES. 2 1 Scott went with them to the sick-room, where, very simply and calmly, Richard Raymond reported all that he knew. "You must not think me an adventurer," said he, "urged on by any thought of the reward that is offered. I have an independent fortune ; and until I know that I am right, at least, I wish to pay my own expenses. You can move your left hand, I see ; and if, when you assent to what I say, you will lift it from the pillow, it will be all that is necessary. I can say in a few words all that I know, and I trust you will not let it excite you. I have thought that your cashier, Roderick Dennett, might know something about Paul." An eager flush for an instant tinged the pale cheeks, and the hand was instantly lifted. It was evident to all that there was no doubt in Mr. Clayton's mind that it was Roderick Dennett. Mr. Raymond continued, — " I knew the man in America when he was a boy. I knew him for ten years in India. I think that he left New York with the child, on the Anchor Line, for India, on the nth of August. If you will permit me, I will start at once for India; and I am sure, that, sooner or later, I shall know all about your son." Again the trembling hand was lifted from the pillow. "Two things are absolutely necessary : my suspicions must be kept a secret with you here, or he might easily hear and baffle every endeavor ; and I must have some one with me who could instantly recognize the little boy through any dis- guise that might be put upon him, — some one who has known him very well at home." A shadow passed over the sick man's face. There was a momentary silence in the room. Richard Raymond did not look at Scott ; but he knew the thoughts he was thinking, and he felt sure that the boy who wanted to be a hero would come to his aid. 22 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. A moment later Scott knelt by his father's side, and earnest- ly whispered, — " Father, let me go with him, and bring back brother Paul." It was a terri- ble struggle. Mrs. Clayton, with one arm about her son, knelt weeping by the bed. For a moment it seemed too much, and Richard thought that Mr. Clayton was again wander- ing in his mind ; but the left hand trembled on the pillow, and then slowly rose. Scott seized it, but gently and rever- ently, and pressed it to his lips. Bess was left to love little Kit- tie, and be the ministering angel in the sick-room. In the long, weary days that followed, when the house seemed so still and deserted that had been so bright before, her one great duty was a thing that seemed im- possible to perform, — to keep a happy face to cheer her father; BESS AND HER PET BEING HEROES. 23 and sometimes thoughts would come that were too much even for the bravest Httle heart ; and with her pet canary on her shoulder chirping, and trying to kiss her, and seeming to do his very best to express his sympathy, she would go to the window to hide from her father the tears that would well up from the full fountain. And there she would think over again all the little incidents of that last half-hour when they were all to- gether, when they stole away from the rest of the children to break their wishbones on that sacred birthday night. " Perhaps little Paul is having his wish," she would sob ; " and surely Scott will have his. Oh, if I were only a man, I would be a hero too, and help find little Paul ! " Brave little Bess ! She never thought that she was the greatest hero of them all, and performing the very hardest duty and the noblest work. But so it is ; and those who are real heroes are oftener those who do not know it than those who do. 24 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. CHAPTER IV. OUT ON THE OCEAN. HERE have been so many stories told of the Atlantic, that Scott had a good idea of what was before him for the first nine days of the voyage ; and he was so sad, that he found it hard to yield to the partial novelty, and to Mr. Raymond's untiring efforts to make him forget him- self. But he was o-oinsf in search of Paul. That alone made him happy, and gradually overcame the terrible homesickness that seemed to lie like a heavy weight upon him all the time. The days dragged on with almost unendurable slowness at first : it seemed a year since he had left the cottage home among the pines, though they had only been six days upon the sea, when an event occurred that opened Scott's eyes to his real position, and showed him that, after all, he had much to be thankful for, and that, while there were hosts of people in the world who were worse off than he, it was not only foolishness, but coward- ice, to give himself up to mourning for the past. Scott was sitting under the awning, aft ; for it was perfectly calm and excessively hot, even on the ocean. Richard laughed, however, and told him that he would think it a delightfully cool afternoon by the time he had experienced a few days upon the Red Sea. There were many emigrants on the steamer, who had either failed to make the fortunes they had hoped for in America, or had earned enough to visit the old country again, and were going home. Suddenly Scott realized that a very 26 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. solemn company was gathering upon the deck, far forward. He asked Mr. Raymond what it was. Richard had not spoken of a death that had occurred on board, dreading to make the boy more melancholy ; but now he was obliged to tell him that it was a funeral. Scott shuddered ; and in spite of Richard's suggestion that it was among the emigrants, and that they had better remain where they were, he slowly rose, and walked forward, with his eyes fixed on the gathering throng, as though it had some subtle charm that was enticing him. With a sad face, Richard followed him. The body of a man, made heavy with lead weights, so that it would sink, and bound up in coarse canvas, lay stretched upon the deck. Beside it, in great distress, knelt a woman, evidently the widow. Clinging to her neck, and crying bitterly, was a little boy ; while on the other side knelt the minister, solemnly repeating the last prayer. Then four seamen came forward, with bare heads ; and, putting the body upon a sort of litter of plain pine, they carried it to the edge of the steamer, and let it fall into the sea. As the splash sounded, the poor woman shrieked, and fell faintino; on the decTc. Mr. Raymond had been anxiously watching Scott's face. Now he saw a strange light break over it, and tears glisten in his eyes, as he left the secluded spot where he had been standing, and, hurrying forward, knelt beside the forsaken little boy, and put his arm about his neck. Mr. Raymond turned away, and went aft alone. It was two hours later when Scott came into the saloon, but a single glance assured his friend that at last the boy had forgotten himself. From that moment he was another person. " I am very fortunate to have my father still," said he : " and it is much better that little Paul should be stolen than dead ; for we may find him, and bring him back." OUT ON THE OCEAN. 27 " I am sure we shall," replied Mr. Raymond earnestly. The remaining days went by rapidly enough, for Scott was busily engaged in comforting the little orphan among the steerage passengers. The steamer entered the Irish Sea, and stopped only an hour at Queenstown ; for which the two travellers were very thankful, as the sight of land made them all the more anxious to be on the way across the Continent without a moment's delay. "We shall be in time for the royal mail," said Mr. Ray- mond, carefully studying his watch and chart, and the time- table of the North- Western Railroad. " We shall reach Liver- pool this afternoon ; and, if all only goes well, we shall take the evening train for London. We shall get there about daylight ; and, as soon as the Peninsular and Oriental S. S. office is opened, we will secure tickets to Brindisi if possible." "Where shall we go then?" asked Scott. "If we are successful, we shall take the train that leaves London every Friday night at nine o'clock." "Why do you say if?" Scott asked again. " Because I am very much afraid that we may find the seats all taken. I shall telegraph from Liverpool, but this is a new thing. It is a weekly mail for India. On Friday night, at a quarter before nine, an engine and mail-van, with only passengers enough to fill one American sleeping-car, leave the Charing-Cross station. At Paris the sleeping-car is attached to the mail-van, and no one without a seat is allowed to o-o. It is the fastest express, and has nothing to do but get to the south of Italy as quickly as possible." They were late in entering the River Mersey, for the tide was wrong for them to cross the bar ; and Richard and Scott stood anxiously leaning against the chain that was stretched 28 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. across the prow to prevent the passengers from going too far forward, when the great port of Liverpool appeared in an enormous half-circle before them, with Birkenhead upon the other side. Oh, those interminable miles of wharves ! " Shall we never come to the end?" asked Scott, as he nervously watched, while the steamer slowly passed one after another of those world-famed, solid piers, from which mer- chandise is sent all over the wide world. " Patience, patience, my boy ! " replied Mr. Raymond, smil- ing. " You will have many lessons in patience before you have travelled long. We shall have to wait quietly hundreds of times, when it will seem as though every minute was worth a fortune." At last, however, the company's tender came alongside, and the eager crowd hurried on board. They gave the good steamer a farewell cheer ; and even Scott joined in it, though a little while before, he had felt any thing but grateful over the slow way in which she was creeping up the river. Lamps were burning on the stage (or pier, as Scott would have called it), when at last they stood upon the solid earth again. The two had very little baggage, — only large valises, that they could carry in their hands in case of necessity, — and Scott supposed that they should start off at once. "Which is the way out?" he asked eagerly, without noti- cing any of the strange sights about him. Mr. Raymond only smiled, and again replied, " Patience, my boy, patience ! " "What! wait again ? And are you in no hurry yourself ?" he asked almost angrily, seeing the smile on Richard's face, " I am in a very great hurry," replied Mr. Raymond; "but 30 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. what good does it do ? We have got to stand here till all those trunks are taken from the tender, and put into the custom-room ; then we must go through there with the rest of the passengers, and have our valises examined. Then we shall be free, and can hurry as much as we like." Mr. Raymond put his valise against the wall, and, lean- ing back, began to study the people about them, and call the attention of his little friend to interesting objects. It was not entirely in vain : but Scott had only an indistinct idea, after- ward, of the lights burning here and there upon the stage ; of burly British policemen, with beards under their chins, and red faces, and huge hats that looked like helmets, and reminded him so strongly of the stories he had read, by Dickens ; of little bootblacks, with badg-es and numbers, that would cluster about them when the police-officers were out of sight, and run away when the officer approached again ; and of how the officer would thunder at the poor little fellows, and push them about. Scott wondered what they were doing that was wrong, so long as they were allowed to be there at all. Here and there, too, were passengers from the steamer, hurrying about with anxious faces and angry words, as though they thought they could move the whole British Empire by demanding that it should hurry up for their especial benefit. " They will get over that when they have tried it long enough," said Richard with a smile ; and even Scott began to feel like an old traveller, and to gather patience from the anxiety of the rest. He became very nervous again, however, when the door opened, and again was almost angry with Mr. Raymond, at the quiet way in which he proceeded. It seemed as though every one crowded in front of him ; yet Scott noticed with astonishment that those who were the most offi- OUT ON THE OCEAN. 31 cious and noisy were still wrangling over their baggage with the officers, or trying to hurry others on, when Richard quietly SCENE IN LIVEKPOOL. secured the attention of a polite official, and, without even opening but one of the valises, had them stamped with the customs label, and they were the very first of all the passengers to secure a carriage. 32 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. They saw very little of Liverpool, as they whirled through the streets to the great North-Western depot ; but they were in time for the train, and that was the great object. It was a curious sensation to enter a large hotel, on the way to a depot, and to find the uniformed officials every- where ; and, in the strange surroundings and bustle, it seemed to Scott that there must be confusion, and that they must surely lose their way. But he followed silently behind Mr. Raymond, and found every step so plainly marked before them, that out of the very multiplicity complete order was resolved. Very soon the two were quietly seated in a curious compart- ment of a long car, with the seats extending from one side to the other, facing each other, entirely shut off from the rest of the car, which was all cut up into similar compartments. The doors were at the sides ; and, before the car started, a guard, or conductor, looked at their tickets, to be sure that there was no mistake ; then he locked the doors on the outside, and the train started. There was but one other passenger in the compartment with them ; and, though the strange sights in the half-clouded moonlight were interesting for a time, Scott was very soon ready to roll himself up and go to sleep. England was not so very unlike America, after all, he thought then ; for he was very tired, in the re-action from the anxiety he had felt all the afternoon. There was not so much noise about the road and at the stations as he was accustomed to at home, and he slept very soundly till he was roused by a particularly bad odor filling the compartment. He opened his eyes. Mr. Raymond was engaged in conversation with the other passenger ; but, seeing that Scott was awake, he smiled, and asked if he was all right. " What is this awful smell ? " asked Scott. . OUT ON THE OCEAN. 33 " It is from a large extract-factory," replied Mr. Raymond. "What!" exclaimed Scott, sitting up, "where they make perfumes ? " "Just that exactly," said Richard, laughing. " And is that the way to make perfumes, by burning up the horrible odors, and saving the good ones ? " asked Scott. But the stranger spoke to Mr. Raymond, and Scott received no reply. He lay and listened to the two till he fell asleep again. It was a strange language in which they were talking, and he gained but little information after all ; but several times he was sure that he heard the name of Roderick Dennett spoken. When he awoke again, the light burned very low, and was smoking, as though the oil was out. The sky was growing gray in the east. He looked about the compartment. Mr. Raymond was asleep on the opposite seat, and the stranger was gone. Scott watched the curious farms and houses that were now very frequent, till Richard looked up, and, taking out his watch, said, "We shall be in London in less than half an hour. Are you glad ? " "It is so much nearer India," replied Scott with a sigh, as he remembered that it was also so much farther away from home. And a moment later he asked, "Who was that man with whom you were talking ? " " He was a German, a civil engineer, who put through one of the India railways." ' I thought I heard you speak of Mr. Dennett," said Scott. "Yes: Dennett worked on the railroad for a few months; and I obtained some information concerningf native associates of his, that will help us, I think." 34 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. "It is very strange that you should have met that man," said Scott, much surprised. " Not so very," repHed Richard, gathering up the things that had been scattered about the seats through the night. " The farther you go, the more you will discover that the world is only a little thing after all, and you will be forever finding people who have been in the same places, and know the same people. But here we are ! See ! we are entering London." " But it is not ten minutes yet. We must be early," said Scott. " I think not," said Richard, sitting down by the window. " London is very large, you know. It would take you almost all day to ride from one end to the other in a hack." " It must be a splendid place for criminals to hide," said Scott, as he looked down the interminable lines of dirty tile roofs, and, just as far as the eye could reach, saw the spires and domes and tall chimneys still rising, and wondered how it would be possible to keep the eye of the law on all the, intricate lanes and by-ways that seemed to be everywhere. " You are quite right there," replied Richard. " If there is a man outside of London whom the police are after, the thing that he often tries the hardest to do, and that they try the hardest to keep him from doing, is to get into the city. I was once in England in search of a famous criminal who had fled from India. We cornered him at last in a little town ; and, if he did not manage to slip out, we were sure of him. We watched every train, and especially the express for London. I was sure I should recognize him if I saw him ; and in all sorts of disguises, accompanied by a policeman or detective, I was at the station at almost every train. One day a young OUT ON THE OCEAN. 35 gentleman and a lady, beautifully dressed, came down, and took the express. As I was on the lookout for every one, I did not like to let the lady with a veil over her face go past me. I hurried to the guard-room, and borrowed a hat and coat of one of the officers of the train, while another went to the compartment where the gentleman and lady were sitting, and called the gentleman away to look to some baggage. Then I went up to the window, and suddenly spoke to the lady. She started ; but, though her reply was very simple, I was sure, in an instant, that I had the man for whom I had come from India. I hurried back, and reported to the detec- tives. The train was held for fifteen minutes, till they could learn who the two were. Very soon word was brought by an officer that they were a couple who had just been married, and were starting upon a wedding-trip. The detectives laughed at me well, I tell you ; and I had nothing left me but to give up. The train went on ; but a half-hour before it should have reached London we found out, for a certainty, that the man had not only left the country town that afternoon, but that he must have left upon that very express train for London. The officers telegraphed forward, and had the station carefully guarded. It was about nine o'clock at night ; and we all waited, sure of hearing of the arrest. But, when the train was about entering the suburbs of the city, the bell rang violently in the guard-van, and the train was stopped. Some one had pulled the cord, you know, that runs along just outside the windows there. The guard hurried down the line to see what was the matter, and at last came upon a compartment where an old woman sat all alone, with any amount of bandboxes and bundles about her. The old woman was deaf as a post, and the guard shouted a dozen times before he could make her 36 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. understand that he wanted to know what was the matter. Then she looked up in surprise, and rephed, ' I want some dinner. What did you suppose ? ' There was no use in swear- ing at her, for she could not hear a thing. She only pointed up to that notice there, and said, ' Don't that say when meals hare required, notify the guard ? hand don't hit say to notify the guard pull the cord houtside the window? I 'ope you didn't stop the train hon my haccount.' There was a delay of fifteen minutes, so that it was three-quarters of an hour before the train reached the depot. Then there were the policemen all ready for it ; and of course they went at once to the com- partment where the young couple were. To their surprise, they found it empty. A bit of wet leather had been stretched over the lantern, so that no one could see when the door was opened ; and, while the train stood still for the old woman, the two had escaped, and had had three-quarters of an hour to put themselves beyond the reach of the police." " But the old woman ! " said Scott. "You are right, Scott," replied Richard. "And if the Lon- don police had only been as bright, and said so as quickly as you have, they might have accomplished something, at least, though it might have been hard to prove that she really had any thing to do with it intentionally. But, while they were vexing themselves over the fellow himself, the assistant, as the old woman doubtless was, left the train and the station without being suspected ; and, before their attention was turned that way, she, too, was buried up somewhere in the great city, " But that was not the end of it all, was it ? " asked Scott anxiously. " It was not really the end of it," replied Mr. Raymond, OUT ON THE OCEAN. 37 *' though the man escaped me, and I went back to India alone. But I expect to meet him again some day, and you may see him too. But here we are at last. Now we will go to a hotel, and have a bath and breakfast, and rest for two or three hours, before the offices are opened." There was no confusion or turmoil ; and Scott could hardly believe that they had reached the famous Euston station, when the door was quietly opened, and, following Richard, he went across a stone platform, and entered a curious sort of a gig. The driver sat behind it, and almost as high as the top of the carriage ; and, having seated themselves where there was just room for two, they shut two little doors in front of their feet, boxing themselves in above the knees. " I don't believe the driver more than half wanted us to ride," said Scott : " he never even spoke, till after you was close up to him." " They would not be allowed to shout, and push them- selves into one's face, as they do in America. But I fancy they have just as many passengers as if they were more noisy : for, if one wants to ride, he will ride ; and, if he don't, I should not think the bullying fellows would tempt him to," replied Mr. Raymond. " I love America even more, perhaps, because I have not been there for so long ; but there are some things that must yet be improved." They were now rattling through dim, noisy streets, that were crowded, even at that early hour. Scott found, that, after all, it was not quite like what he had seen his life long, and began to feel as though he were one of the characters of some of Dickens's stories. The idea was very thoroughly taken out of him, however, when, a few hours later, he and Mr. Raymond left the hotel to find the steamer-office, and one 38 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. of the first objects they met was a ragged little newsboy, who hurried up to them, crying, — "All the latest news from New York! Only a penny!" " How does he know that we are Americans ? " asked Scott, chagrined, he could ha«rdly tell why, to be so easily discovered. "They all know it," replied Mr. Raymond, smiling, "Would you rather not ? " Scott hesitated ; and Richard continued, "You were ashamed of it, I fancy." " A little," said Scott, blush- " And so are hosts of Ameri- cans," added Mr. Raymond. " I have seen gentlemen and ladies try in every possible way to hide the fact. They will buy English clothes the moment they land, and talk like English- men, and try to act like them, and then be very angry when they see how they fail after all. It is very strange to me ; for America, of every land, is one to be proud of, I would rather be an American than any jthing else on earth ; and so would they, I think, if they really ♦thought of it." "I am not going to be ashamed of it again ! " exclaimed I. Scott proudly ; " and you shall see. The first time that any 'one thinks I am not an American, I will show him he is mistaken very quickly." They hailed a bus. There was a winding flight of iron THE RAGGED NEWSBOY. 40 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. steps leading to the top ; and, wishing to see all they could of London, they mounted, and seated themselves on the roof. A young Englishman was sitting there alone. He looked up as Scott took a place beside him, and pleasantly remarked, " A fine morning this." " It might be more uncomfortable, sir," replied Scott ; though he could not help looking a little incredulously toward the sky, for he thought it one of the most disagreeable, damp, and gloomy mornings he had found for months. It looked as though it would certainly rain in an hour ; and evidently the Englishman thought so too, for he had an umbrella. Noticing Scott's uncertainty, he added, " You've not lived long in town ? " "In town! What town?" asked Scott, " Hereabout. You don't seem quite used to London weather," replied the Englishman. " No, sir: I am an American," said Scott; and he blushed a little as he felt Mr. Raymond's hand touch his shoulder approvingly; "and I do not know much about London weather, if this is a fine morning." The Englishman laughed. " You'll think it one of the best of the year, if you stop the year out." " Then, I should hate to see a really bad morning in Lon- don," observed Scott, rubbing his hand over his pants, that were already quite damp with the fog. "Ay, that you would!" replied the Englishman. " Some- tim.es they light the street-gas at noon, the fog is so thick ; and I've seen more than one time when, in broad daylight, the driving was stopped in the streets." " It must be interesting," said Scott, meaning precisely the opposite. But the Englishman thought him in earnest, and OUT ON THE OCEAN. 41 replied, " Right you are ! " with an enthusiasm that almost made him laugh, in spite of his endeavors to keep a sober face. They reached the up-town office of the P. and O. S. S. Company only to be disappointed. Every seat was taken ; and there was no way in which they could reach Brindisi, in Italy, in time for the steamer. " Let us walk over to No. 18 Cockspur Street," said Mr. Raymond. "It is only a little way, and there is a shipper there who has the agency for several Bombay steamers. It may be that one of them is leaving at once ; and, if so, going by water will only delay us three or four days more than waiting for the next mail overland, and we should then be able to stop at all the ports where the Mediterranean steamer from New York stopped, and make sure that we are not following a wrong track, and that the passengers went right on to India." " How should we go by water?" asked Scott, as they walked over to Na. 18 Cockspur Street. " We should leave either from Southampton or Liverpool, and go right across the Bay of Biscay, to Gibraltar ; and from there we should stop at Algiers, Malta, and Alexandria, or Port Said ; then through the canal to Suez, to Aden, and Bombay." " I should think that would be better," said Scott. " At any rate, we will make a virtue of a necessity, and profit by it," replied Richard, as they reached the office. 42 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. CHAPTER V. OLD JOB, THE QUARTERMASTER. IWENTY-FOUR hours later, the two were well es- tablished on a snug little steamer of the Clann line, and steaming away from England. They were the only passengers on board, and were consequently given the full range of the steamer, without restrictions. " Two days ago we hardly expected to be here," said Scott, as they sat together on the deck. " Hardly," answered Richard : " but life is full of sudden changes ; and the more readily one adapts himself to them as they come, the more likely he is to make the best of them, and come out well at the end." " You mean that for me, Mr. Raymond," said Scott ; " and I begin to realize all that it implies. I have had a very wrong idea of what it was to be a hero, from reading about them in books. If all of this comes out right in the end, I think I shall know better how to be a man." "All must come out right, Scott," replied Richard: "we will make it. We will begin by making the best of our posi- tion now ; for, if we do not have a good time on this voyage, it is certainly our own fault. We shall have no one else to blame." " You are very kind, Mr. Raymond. I was wondering last night how in the world it could have happened that you could have been in Beverly at just that time, and in the OLD yOE, THE QUARTERMASTER. 43 woods at just that moment, and then why you should ever have been so good as to do what you are doing." Scott was going on to say more, but Richard interrupted him. "That is quite enough, my boy. In the first place, God does every thing in this world, and does it right. In the second place, you will learn, by and by, that men do very little that is not in some way for their own advantage. I am very anxious to find Roderick Dennett, and am only for- tunate, if I can do so much more than find him for myself, in rescuing your brother Paul at the same time." " You don't think he would hurt him, do you ? " asked Scott for the hundredth time. " Not a bit, Scott," replied Richard. " He is quite too great a coward to lay himself open to the charge of murder. He would do any thing in the world that was mean. He would do almost any thing for money, but he would do very little for revenge. I do not think that he would have gone to India, only that he was too great a coward to stay in America ; and before long I believe he will of himself begin to see what ransom he can get from your father. He will be very careful of Paul ; for it will be a prospect of money to him, if he keeps him safely. You may be sure, that, wherever Paul is, he is having just as good a time as is possible under the circum- stances." And Richard believed this ; though perhaps he said it a little more strongly than he really felt, in order to give Scott the courage that he lacked. " We are nearing the Spanish coast," he continued. "To-morrow night, or early the next morning, we shall be abreast the Cape. We must look out for ourselves that we don't bribe the wrong fortune here, and go on with what the sailors call the ' porter's portion.' " "What is that?" asked Scott. 44 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. "Oh! it is only one of the thousand fancies that sailors have connected with every point of land that is often sighted by ships. I was thinking how a sailor told me the story when I went by here almost twenty years ago. I was a sailor-boy up in the fo'cas'le then. I had to do a little of every thing, all day long, and then spend my spare time in polishing up the brass about the ship, just as that little urchin is doing." And Richard pointed to where a little stowaway was busy rubbing up a brass knob. He had hidden himself away under a bunk before the steamer left Liverpool, and did not come out till they were too far away to send him back. " You were not a stowaway, were you ? " asked Scott. "No; but I was the 'boy;' and a boy's lot, under any circumstances, is not an easy one at sea. I was very anxious to see all that I could of the strange countries ; but there was little chance of my being able to go ashore anywhere. There were some of the sailors, and one of them was a par- ticular hero of mine, who cared very little about going on shore, but were ready to give any thing to get a little rum. We had passed the Cape, and were looking forward and cal- culating the time that we should probably land at Gibraltar. We should be there during the night. This suited my sea- man friend ; and he made a proposition to me, that he should help me to escape from the steamer, and get ashore, so that I could go about and see every thing, if, in return, I would bring him back a bottle of rum." Richard laughed. " I was thinking of old times, and wandered away from the ' porter's portion.' It was the bargain he made with me that brought out the story. A young fisherman on the coast over there had made a haul of two of the finest fish he ever saw. He determined to present them to the king ; .and, just as he was, THE PORTER'S PORTION. 46 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. he made his way to the court. The palace porter who was on guard objected at first to letting him in, but at last made a compromise with him, that he should go in and sell his fish to the prince, but that, in exchange, he must give the porter just one-half of what he received, his regular commission. The prince, passing through the court, and seeing the two splendid fish, at once ordered his butler to take them, and pay the fisherman whatever he asked for them. ' If it please your Highness,' said the fisherman, ' I should like to receive one hundred lashes.' This was the most severe punishment ever bestowed with the whip. It often cost the criminal his life. The prince turned in surprise, and demanded his reason for asking such a reward. ' Because, your Highness,' said he, 'the porter at the gate is in the habit of demanding one-half, of what we receive from your Highness, before he will let any of us enter ; and I know of no compensation that I would rather share with him than one hundred lashes.' " " It was good enough for him," said Scott decidedly. " Yes : it was good enough for him, and does very well for a story," replied Richard ; " and it gives the sailors some- thing to say whenever they hear any one making a bargain while they are in the neighborhood of the Cape. You must make the acquaintance of the quartermasters on board ; for, when they are off duty, you'll find them full of interesting stories." " They're a sorry-looking set of fellows," said Scott, as one of the quartermasters of the ship approached that part of the deck where they were sitting. He was a tall, gaunt, awkward fellow, with a wrinkled face, and sharp eyes, and hard, brown hands. And Scott added, " I should hate to have any thing to do with him." OLD yOE, THE QUARTERMASTER. 47 " Sailors are always rough to look at ; but they may have kind hearts, after all. You'll find the flowers growing wild in India are more beautiful than the best hothouse blossoms in America ; but you'll hardly find a flower in Hindoostan so sweet as the yellow daisies and pink roses that grow by the side of the road in Beverly." The old sailor came up, and began to work on one of the steamer's boats, close to them, stretching a canvas over it, and binding it on with a strong cord. "What's up. Jack? Will she catch a blow In Biscay?" asked Richard. " Bit of a brush, maybe," replied the sailor. " The barometer has held low ever since we started," added Richard. " Why, I heard the captain say, an hour ago, that it was going up fast ! " said Scott, who had begun to study the prospects with a nautical eye. " Sudden rise after low indicates a harder blow," muttered the sailor in a sort of singsong as he worked. He was quite correct in his prediction ; for before night it began to blow, and the waves not only ran high, but seemed to run in every direction. It is a peculiarity, in that Bay of Biscay, that every one who ever crossed It knows. They did not see the coast of Spain and Cape Finisterre at all, and were down where the Tagus River flows by Lisbon (the capital of Portugal), and empties Into the sea, before they again ventured into sight of land. It was a wild and fascinating coast, with its ragged ridges of rock extending to the very water's edge, its white cliffs gleaming here and there, and now and then a green gorge, where a little stream wandered down from the mountains. The villages along the coast were all of 48 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. white, and looked like drifts of snow along the sand, till Scott went up on to the bridge with the captain, and, taking his tele- scope, brought the shore under the very bows of the steamer. "That town is Peanno, over there," said the captain. " Do you see the little steamer just making into the harbor?" "Are those towers all along the coast, lighthouses?" asked Scott. The captain laughed. " They are Moorish watch-towers," he said. " It was only a few years ago that the Moors ruled all the south of Spain and Portugal ; and they had their strong- holds all along the coasts, even after the entire interiors were given up. Those towers, and the castles about them, are im- pregnable, even now, to any mode of warfare but that of our heaviest cannon." " I should like to visit them," said Scott, fixing the tele- scope on one of them with fascinated interest. " So you would," replied the captain, giving an order to slightly change the direction of the steamer, that she might run a little nearer in, and give a better view. "There is many a wild romance connected with those Moorish towers, of battles and sieges, and tyrants, and lovers, and misers, and all kinds of every thing that went on there years and years ago. Now raise your glass a bit, and on the highest hill, to the right of Peanno, do you see a great castle, all towers and every thing, and a hundred times bigger than the Moorish towers down below ? " " Oh, yes, I see it ! " exclaimed Scott. " What an enormous thing it is ! What is it ? " " It's the summer palace of the king of Portugal. And just down at the foot of that hill, on the other side, is the capital, Lisbon. You cannot see it now ; but in half an hour OLD JOE, THE QUARTERMASTER. 49 we shall be below the mouth of the river, and you can look back, and see the shipping, at least, just below the city." "The king" of Portugal must like to read novels," said Scott with a sigh of envy. " Living in such a romantic place would make them all seem real, I should think. I never liked to read stories, because they never seemed true, except Dickens's works, and I have read all of those. I felt as if they were true when I read them ; and when I reached England, and saw it for myself, — just a little of it, I mean, — I was sure of it." " He does like to read novels better than he likes to fight," said the captain, laughing; "and he's got the waxiest little doll for a wife, and she likes to read novels too. They're a pretty little couple ; but they're too small for that castle, and they spend most of their time in a beautiful palace in the city, at the foot of the hills." " And is that all the vacation they have? It must be very tiresome." " It's hard work being a king," replied the captain. *' I'd rather be the captain of a good steamer than that king of Portugal, this minute ; and I fancy he's got the best berth of any of the crowned heads of Europe, so far as taking comfort is concerned." "Why is that?" asked Scott. " Oh ! he's plenty of money to live upon, and he's nothing in the way of a throne that any one wants bad enough to try and get it away from him." Just then the first officer came up, and spoke to the captain ; and he turned away, saying, " You must excuse me for a few minutes, for I want to see if my chronometers are keeping good time." ^O OUR BOYS IN INDIA. Scott watched the operation without understanding much of it; but when the captain returned, he explained, "You see, we have three or four ways of taking reckonings now ; so that, if we make a mistake in one, we correct it in another. One of them is to carry two chronometers with us, giving the time at Greenwich. Then we know just how much the time at Lisbon, for instance, differs from Greenwich time ; and we take an observation when we are just off the point yonder, and find out the exact minute, and the distance we are away, and compare the result with the time. But there goes dinner. You'll lose nothing, for we shall not see land again till we sight Cape St. Vincent, and that'll be in the night. Then the next thing is the Straits and Gibraltar." Taking Mr. Raymond's advice, Scott followed the old quartermaster down into the little sailor's room, in the very prow of the steamer, when he knew that he was off duty. "Can I come in and call on you, sir?" he asked, bowing a little timidly. The old sailor looked around, leaned back against a beam ; and, resting his hand on the mess-table, he smiled pleasantly, though it wrinkled his face into all manner of criss-crosses, as he replied, " Drop anchor where you will, my lad. It's a free harbor, this voyage ; but it don't do to ' sir ' a craft like ■>■> me. "You're older than I am, and I should say 'sir' to every one who is older," replied Scott. " Thet's by American reckonin', an' here ye stand on British plank," said the sailor. " But I am an American, and I am not ashamed of it ! " exclaimed Scott. " Steady as ye go ! " cried the old quartermaster in a firm, ^2 ■ OUR BOYS IN INDIA. enthusiastic voice, giving the call of the wheel-house, when the steamer is headed right. " But there's a difference in the water, that'll git ye out o' your bearings, if you keep that tack. You say 'sir' to an Englishman, an' he don't know no better than to think you mean to say that he's a bigger craft than you. That's what the word means in his signal-book. You Americans, who don't drop your ensign to nobody but in courtesy, can afford to go sirrin' round as ye will, in your own waters. But put it in your log, my lad, if you're an American, an' proud o' it, ye are as good as God save the Queen ! And don't go drop your ensign to any Englishman that lives." "Thank you, sir — I mean, thank you," said Scott with a laugh. " I'll put it in my log, and remember who told me ; but I shall have to read it over every 'day or two for some time, I think. Now, I came down to ask you if you had time to tell me a story about the sea." " Spin a yarn ? " asked the old quartermaster, pushing back his heavy hat. "Well, I suppose it's the same as spinning a yarn," said Scott. " But, for mercy's sake, don't spin it in sailor-talk, for I cannot understand. If you haven't time now, I'll come again." "Time enough, time enough!" said the old salt. "But how's the tide ? It's forever agin me when I try to yarn. I'm tongue-tied, instead o' high tide, when it comes to talking. And ye ask me to talk like a landlubber, too, when I don't know a goat from a turkey. But make fast aft there, my lad: I mean, sit down, and — what? no place to sit? True with ye ! And whatever do I do when I heave to ? Why, I never stopped to think, but must be I make for the mess- table, or ground her on the shoals behind you there." Scott OLD JOE, THE QUARTERMASTER. 53 sat down on the step. " And come a brush and blow, I lay to, and hug" the coast." And, suiting- his actions to his words, the old fellow sat directly down upon the floor, his sharp knees on a level with his sharp chin, and his back against the beam. " Whatever to talk about, now, is the next thing, and how- ever to say it in landlubber's lingo. It's bad as a fog and a gale, bow and stern. You'll have to give the sailin' orders, and start me off, my lad ; and ef it come thick weather, an' I drift away from shore, why, give the word, put to, call the points, and we'll right up agin," " Any thing, any thing about the sea," said Scott, his eyes fixed upon the old sailor's mouth ; for, in spite of his endeavor to talk like a landsman, it was still hard to under- stand, and it seemed to help the matter a little to watch the working of his lips. " Any thing about the sea ! Ugh ! It's an awful place," said the old sailor with a shiver. "What? You say so? How long have you followed the sea ? " asked Scott in surprise. "Just fifty years and two, my lad, which is since the day that I was launched upon life's ocean ; which, agin, was mor'n a thousand mile from port." " You were born a thousand miles from port ! " cried Scott. "And did you never think of leaving the sea, if it seems like an awful place ? " " I've left it mor'n twenty times, and w^us always back agin afore I could get my sea-legs off. Ugh ! it's an awful place." "Why?" asked Scott. The old man was silent for a moment. His head dropped down between his knees. Then he went on as thoug-h he were 54 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. talking to himself. " My father and mother lie under the sea. My grandfathers were both drowned in salt water. My wife — my — my little boy — ay, ay, they've hove to under the lea o' some ugly rock, too deep down for the breakers to shift 'em. It's calm water there, they say, till the end o' the voyage. But up here ! Ugh ! When the sea's on, and lumpy, it's an awful place." " You must have been shipwrecked," said Scott, his eyes bright with tears for the old sailor. And he could not help thinking of what Mr. Raymond had said of the hearts that were sometimes hidden under the weather-beaten faces of sailors. " Shipwrecked," said the quartermaster with a shudder, "just as often as ever a seven came into my years. Seven time seven is forty-nine, and from out o' them I came with my mast-head above water. But that fills up the landings. Next time is four year yet to come, and that's the last. It'll be a stiff 'un that shivers the last timber in old Joe's keel ; but it's comin' at fifty-six, sure as the sea is salt." "I hope not," said Scott earnestly. "Was it steamers, or sailing-vessels, that you were on when you were wrecked ? " " Never pressed a steamer plank afore this voyage," replied the sailor. "Do you like it?" asked Scott. "Ay, ay! Give me steam," said the quartermaster en- thusiastically, forgetting his gloomy thoughts. " I've been master of a sailor for twenty year ; but they'll have to take the wake water, or drop aft, now. Yarn about sail ! Why, the last time I went ashore, she scooped me clean, with rocks ahead, not a stitch o' canvas drawin' ; while we a-looking in the eye o' destruction, and not a power could lay her to." OLD JOE, THE QUARTERMASTER. 55 ** I hardly understand," said Scott faintly. "True with you. Shiver me, lad, but I wus back aboard that vessel, and forgot about you and this fo'cas'le. When I am on land, I forget myself now and again, and it seems as if the street was tossin' like the ship, and I haul up, and put out a spar, sailor fashion, to keep her steady; and it's ROCKS TO STARBOARD, ROCKS TO PORT, AND A CLIFF DEAD AHEAD. just so talkin'. But this wus the drift of it. We wus round the Cape, and swimmin' like a fish. The night wus black as burned coffee, and blowing like — however the wind blows according to land lingo, I don't know, my lad ; but 'twas mor'n a gale. Every thing was fast but a gib for'ad, and a bit aft, just to steady her. 'Twas a dirty night, I tell you, and my seven years wus out. I knew I must come to anchor on a 56 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. rock in that twelvemonth some time ; and, feeHng sure 'twas that night, I couldn't turn in, but held by the lookout. I knew there were islands and ugly rocks about us, but for my life I couldn't tell where ; and through the Straits the sea wus running so hard with the wind, that no anchor cables could 'a' held us. It was go on, or go down ; and we did both. Of a sudden I looked up, for something wus wrong. I heard the gib flapping against the stays just by my head. The wind wus gone, and nothing but a ledge o' rocks could 'a' cut it off. Then come a flash o' lightning. Holy Mother ! There wus rocks to starboard, and rocks to port, and a great ledge dead ahead, and we making for it full fifteen knots. Ouicker'n thought I lookea aft. The lightning shivered a mast, and I saw the two men at the wheel drop. I started for it. Heaven knows 'twould 'a' done no good ! but I started, when the ship careened, and I wus thrown fair afoul the deck-cask, and knocked almost sense- less. Afore I could right myself, she struck. Holy Mother!" The old quartermaster shivered, and seemed to shrink into himself, as he sat there on the floor. But Scott was too excited to wait long, and in a moment he asked, "And you?" Old Joe started. " Ha, lad, I'd forgot myself again. Oh, 'twas awful ! The next thing I knew, I wus clinging to that deck-cask, and wallowing among the rocks. Not another man wus saved, I think ; and all the money I'd laid by in the nine and forty year wus in that hold as cargo. Mary, my wife, ay, and my little Joe, they two were asleep down in the little cabin. God knows, I'd risked every thing on that voyage, and promised Mary that it should be the last. 'Twas her last, but not mine. No. But had it 'a' been a steamer, she'd not 'a' got into a place like that." OLD JOE, THE QUARTERMASTER. 57 Scott was so thoroughly sorry for the poor old man, that he even forgot his anxiety to know how he escaped at last ; and, trying to make him forget the sad thoughts into which the tale had drawn him, he took the best way in the world, by " setting him off on another tack," as the sailor would have said, in asking, — "Were you ever in a war?" " I've been in mor'n one," replied the old man thought- fully. "I wish you would tell me something about them," said Scott. " I wus once in a privateer, just off this coast," said Joe. " I wus skipper, and running for a tenth of the prize. The British held. Gib, but there wus no communication with 'em." "Gibraltar, do you mean?" asked Scott. "Ay, ay! Gibraltar. We'll be there early in the morn- ing. Better turn out about daylight, for the coast of Africa's worth seeing," " So I will," replied Scott. " But go on, and tell me about the privateer." " Well, the fleet had orders for Gib, and wanted news, and offered well for carrying a mail, and bringing back despatches. I heard of it, and shipped the cargo. We could sail within fifteen miles of Gib ; and the first black night I took my best boat, and my best man to row, and one good rifle, and the despatches. Rowing thirty miles in one night is nothing to laugh at ; but the sea was calm, and the wind blew just enough to make a noise, and hide the dip o' the oars. We reached Gib all right, in spite of the enemies' fleet. We went right under the nose of some of their big ships." " Were you frightened ? " asked Scott. 58 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. " Not then," replied the old salt ; " for, like other big things, they never thought o' looking under their own noses for a bit of a cork with two men on it. But when we put about, the sea wus up a bit, and, worst of all, the lightning began to let loose. We saw a big ship ahead : there were no lights out, but we gave her the way. We were just abreast, when two or three flashes all together let the lookout have the sea ; and he sighted us. The wind was agin 'em. They did not even hail us, but w^e heard 'em lower away a boat. They had our points. We lay to our oars for life ; but it wus six to four, and a dead sure, that they were on us. I dropped my oar, and, taking up the rifle, I rammed down another ball. Then I lay down in the stern, and rested the rifle, aimed it as nearly as I could by the splash of the oars, and waited till I could sight by the lightning. In a minute there wus an awful flash. ' Steady there, captain ! ' cried my man at the oar ; but it wus too late. I fired. Shiver me ! I had never fired a gun before in all my life. I could handle a pistol or a cutlass, but that rifle handled me." Old Joe laughed, a low. chuckling laugh, as though it was a very good joke. Scott was more anxious to know what the muzzle of the rifle accomplished than the butt, and asked, — ''Did you hit any one in the other boat?" " Came nearer hitting the man behind me," replied Joe. "The old eun lamed me for a month. But when I came hoisting myself up from the bottom of the boat, I heard a voice a little way off, calling, ' Captain Beer, ahoy ! ' That wus me ; and when I heard the voice I knew it wus my third mate." '* How came he there ? " asked Scott. OLD JOE, THE QUARTERMASTER. 59 " Why, lad, 'twas my own ship we passed. They were afraid we would swamp in the sea that wus rising, and had come nearer than was safe, and we had rowed faster than we thought." Scott was tempted to smile at first, and think he had been listening to one of those proverbial sailor's yarns ; but the next moment the tears came into his eyes again for the old sailor, as Joe continued, — " I had a fair wind aft, and a clean sky, in those days ; but now I'm old. My keel's all barnacles. My tackle's out o' gear. I'm Old Joe now, the quartermaster ; and nobody hears a command from Captain Beer. Captain Beer's dead. He died when his last ship went on the rocks, with his wife and — ay, ay — when his little boy went down. And Old Joe will go down too, in four years more ; only four year, my lad. And the rock's growin' sharp in the sea now, that will be Old Joe's gravestone." 6o OUR BOYS IN INDIA, CHAPTER VI. T^HALING OFF GIBRALTAR. P" was hardly daylight the next morning when Scott came on deck ; but the coast-line of Africa was clearly defined along the southern horizon, and the course of the steamer was entirely changed. The sun rose in front of them, instead of coming into his stateroom window. As soon as Scott appeared on the deck, the captain, who was on the bridge, sent for him to come up there, and giving him the glass, with a hearty good-morning, asked, — ■ "How does she head, my boy?" "First-rate, thank you, sir!" replied Scott cheerfully. "It seems good to see the sun forward." "Why's that?" asked the captain. " Oh ! because, so long as we are going toward the rising sun, we are so much nearer India." "What!" exclaimed the captain, slapping him on the shoulder, "tired of the sea already? It's not all like the Bay of Biscay : that's a dirty pond at the best. Look there, now : see that sand-mountain rising up ? The big desert's behind there. See the caravan-paths winding down the sides of the hills this way. And that big peak there is Ape Hill." "Ape Hill ?" responded Scott. "What a name for a pile of sand and rocks like that ! No ape would be fool enough to live there." WHALING OFF GIBRALTAR. 6 1 " That's what you think now," repHed the captain ; " but, if you should cHmb that hill, you'd find gorges with shrubbery, and the shrubbery would be full of apes. And there's some- thinof out of the common trade in the course of those mon- keys too; for old Gib, over there, — you'll see it plainly when you come up from breakfast, — is the only spot in Europe where there are monkeys, and those monkeys are precisely the same as the monkeys on Ape Hill. They live in great caves on the south side of the Rock of Gib ; and there are caves there that no one has ever found the bottom of. Now it may be all a yarn, or it may not ; but they say that those apes have a subterranean passage under the Straits, between Gib and Ape Hill." " I shouldn't think that would be any thing so very strange," said Scott, looking over the masts for the great Rock of Gibraltar at the left. "Well, there you have it," replied the captain. "Then, you're just the one to believe the story, and chances are, you're right. And then, again, we come across one who will laugh at the very idea. But it's no use looking for Gib yet. You'd be disappointed, even if you could see it now. Wait till after breakfast, and have your first sight when it looms up dead ahead." While Scott was at breakfast, the captain sent for him to come on to the bridge instantly. He dropped his fork, and sprang bare-headed for the deck, expecting to see the great rock, fourteen hundred feet high, right before him ; but as he mounted the bridge he looked about in vain. Every thing was much as he left it. The captain, with a rifle in his hand, was giving an order to slow down. A moment later he turned to Scott ; and, pointing to a little floating foam on the water, he said, — 62 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. " See there ! — just starboard the beam ! " " I see some foam," replied Scott. " Keep your weather-eye on it," said the captain. " Look aHve now ! " After watching for a moment, a glossy blue-brown mound seemed to rise up in the midst of the foam. Scott was on the point of asking what it was, when two jets of spray shot into the air, and he cried, — " A whale ! " " Ay, ay, my lad ! Now keep a sharp lookout. The fellow's coming across our beam, and if he don't change his course he'll pass close in on the port side. You may get a shot at him." And he handed Scott the rifle. With trembling hand Scott took the piece, and watched the lumbering fellow as he slowly plunged along, spurting the water above him, and seeming to have no idea that a steamer was in the neighborhood. "I didn't know that there were whales down here," he whispered. " Plenty of them in the Straits," replied the captain. The tide runs hard in the Channel and the Narrows, and there's any amount of little fish here for them to feed on ; but they see so much of steamers, that they have learned to be careful. That's a young fellow, though, and he may not have his weather-eye out." The captain was right. The steamer floated so silently on the water, the engine being still, that the huge creature did not take the least notice of her. Scott waited impatiently till the whale was just by the steamer's course. He rested the rifle on the rail, and his finger twitched nervously upon the trigger. The sea was perfectly calm. There was no motion 64 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. to disturb his aim. He felt sure he could hit it the next time it rose. Up it came, slowly, wallowing, as though en- joying its breakfast and morning swim. Up went a dash of spray. All was ready. "What will he do if I hit him?" asked Scott excitedly. " Dive," replied the captain. Scott began to press the trigger. "Will he come up again directly?" he asked. " Not if he is badly hurt, or scared," replied the captain. Again Scott bent forward, and took deliberate aim. But he hesitated. " What's the use ? " said he ; and, with a sigh of real regret at the sacrifice, he loosed his hold on the rifle, and stood erect. " Right you are," said the captain enthusiastically. " I said to myself that that was the timber you was built of, but I didn't know till I had tried." And Scott was prouder, after all, than if he had made a good shot, only to see the poor creature leap from its pleasure Into the waves, and dive in agony. As soon as the whale was out of sight, Scott went down and finished his breakfast. When he came on deck again, he found the Rock of Gibraltar in plain sight. The captain was eating his breakfast on the bridge. The harbor was so clearly visible with the glass, and all seemed such plain sail- ing, that Scott asked In surprise the cause for his keeping on watch. "There are more dangers ahead than you think for," he replied. " And many a ship has gone on the rocks when trying to enter of a bad night, before the signals were placed as they are now." WHALING OFF GIBRALTAR. 65 " How Is it now ? " asked Scott. " Why, there's one of the best lights there in the Medi- terranean Sea. And there's just one channel where any ship can enter, and be perfectly safe. But If she gets out of it, she's gone. Now, that light is red from every direction except when you ride dead In the channel, and then it's white. So we sail due east till the red disappears, and the light is white. Then we put her right about, and make for the light." " I don't wonder that it is a strong fortress," said Scott, looking up the perpendicular ledge of rock to the fortifica- tions built on the top, and then down to the little town nestling at the base. "Those works up there are fourteen hundred feet high, and they command every thing but themselves. They've changed hands as often as an old packet. See the green hill as it falls away behind ! " "It's a beautiful spot!" exclaimed Scott. "And grand too. It must be very healthy there." "So you might think," replied the captain; "but many's the British soldier and merchant that has had to leave the place, or die. They have a peculiar fever there that is no- where else in the world. They even call it the Gibraltar fever ; and it takes the strength out of a man like nothing else in the world," They only made a short stop at Gibraltar ; for there was little cargo to ship, and the captain wanted to make Algiers and Malta by daylight, which, in the common course, would be the case if he left Gib early in the day. Scott went on shore with Mr. Raymond, and wandered for an hour through the old town ; but they did not venture to climb the hill. In 66 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. the bazaar he bought a Httle African ivory box, beautifully carved on the cover with the figure of one of the old Moors in full battle dress. MOOR READY FOR ACTION. " We should very likely fall into their hands, if we went far beyond the walls of Algiers, where we shall stop next," said Mr. Raymond. " Then, I think I'll stay inside the wall," replied Scott. *' He's an ugly-looking fellow, a perfect walking arsenal. WHALING OFF GIBRALTAR. 67 Look at those pistols and knives in his belt. And what a gun ! Do you suppose it's good for any thing ? " " I do, indeed," said Richard. " It is beautifully ornamented with silver, and some of them have jewels of great value in- laid ; but that is all outside. And I know, from experience, that those guns can fire." "You have tried them?" asked Scott. " I have felt them," replied Richard. " Oh, tell me about it ! " exclaimed Scott. " Wait till we have nothing better to do. At Algiers you will have a chance to see some of these fellows and their guns. They will not look so bright as this, perhaps ; for the Moors are poor now, and even the robbers do not have such magnificent arms as they used. But the work on some of those old guns is simply magnificent. You thought, because it was so beautifully ornamented, that it was not good for any thing for work." " I know my plain double-barrel shot-gun is a deal better than Bobby Brackett's fancy one ; and father said it was only ornamented in that way to make it sell." " That's very true," replied Richard. "They've grown into that way of doing business in America ; because people will pay their money for any thing showy, and not care a straw whether it is worth any thing or not. But these fellows' guns are their very life to them, just like the lances and swords and shields of the old Saxon and Norman warriors. You remember those beautiful shields that we saw in England, in the window of the old curiosity shop ? " " Yes, indeed, I do ! " exclaimed Scott. " Well, did it make them any weaker to have all that carving on them ? " 68 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. " Of course not," said Scott. " It's a bad habit the people of America have grown into," replied Richard. " Half of them go in so much for show, that the other half go as far the other way, and think that any kind of show is an actual sin. It doesn't make these fellows' guns any worse to ornament them, after they have made a good gun in the first place, any more than it makes a real gentleman a fop to dress in the fashion, if he is a true and brave man to put the clothes on to. Don't you see ? " " Indeed, I do, sir," replied Scott. " And if I do not know what it is to be a true hero before long, it will not be because I've not had a good teacher : that's sure. But what made me think that those guns were not good for any thing, was because I had read about the fellows that carried them being unable to fire them off, and being such cowards whenever there was any real danger." "Those things do very well for travellers' stories," replied Richard, " and make people laugh when they read them. There is some ground for them, too, according to our ideas ; for these fellows are not the same kind of people that we are. Their ideas and ours are very different ; and, while we judge them by our notions, they are acting according to theirs. What we call bravery they think is bravado, and what we con- sider cowardice is really more discretion with them. There have been some very valiant deeds done by Mussulman war- riors and brigand robbers. It is a regular profession with them, and nothing to be ashamed of. And, in spite of all that the brave travellers say to the contrary, I should be very slow to put myself into their clutches, without some necessity. They fight like mad tigers when they are cornered." "You say they are not ashamed of being robbers?" asked Scott. WHALING OFF GIBRALTAR. 69 " Not a bit of It," replied Richard. " I have talked with an old fellow over there in Algiers, who was constantly telling stories of old times, and saying, ' When I was a robber.' And there are many like him, — the Bedouins of Syria, for instance, — who consider it one of the most honorable ways of getting a living." "They must be horribly wicked people," said Scott with a shudder. " I don't know about that," replied Richard. " They are not civilized Christians, of course ; they would be very much better if they were : but we think it all right to take any thing from our enemies when we are at war, — it is not long since the days of privateers ; and they only go a little farther, and consider themselves always at war with every one." When the steamer left the harbor, they had another pas- senger, a military officer, going over to Malta ; and, though it was an unusual appendage for a soldier, he was closely followed, everywhere he went, by an enormous hound. He was a good- natured fellow ; and as Scott was fond of dogs, and the hound very soon discovered it, they became intimate friends at once. But no matter how familiar they grew, the hound could not be induced to remain a moment if his master was out of sight. " He is very fond of you, sir," said Scott to the officer, as he vainly tried to induce the dog to go below with him. " And I am very fond of him," replied the officer in good English, though he was not an Englishman. " We have seen hard times together." "Has he ever been in a battle?" asked Scott. "That he has," replied the officer; "and in more than one. He saved my life once at least, and I don't know how many more times. I was a petty officer in the ranks, and was 70 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. wounded. At night I crept away from the field, and tried to make my way to camp. But it was too far. I crawled up into the hills, and there I fell exhausted. The poor fellow' tried to help me, but it was of no use. I thought I was dying, and for several days I lay unconscious. When I came to myself, there was the old fellow, thin as a starved rat, licking my hands, and barking at the vultures and crows that were waiting for my corpse." Scott shuddered ; but he was beginning to become accus- tomed to all sorts of people and ways. " How did you escape ? " he asked. " Why, the beast no sooner saw that I was up and awake, and able to keep the ugly carrion-flies off for myself, than he started away. It was an hour before he came back. I was faint and hungry and thirsty and every thing else. I thought if I could kill one of the vile birds it would be better than nothing ; and I tried to load my rifle, but I was too weak. I lay down on the rocks to go to sleep again, when a beastly crow came and sat down on my foot, and gave a fiendish cry to the rest that were lying round in ambush. I would not have moved my foot to shake him off; but old Zigg came tearing up the hill, and away he flew. I opened my eyes as Zigg came up. He had a hare in his mouth, that he had just killed. I ate a half of it raw, and he ate the rest. He was colonel of my commissaries, division-surgeon of my hospital, captain of my picket-guard, field-marshal and sergeant-at-arms, father, mother, and best friend, for eight days, till I was able to crawl on and find some help. He's old now, and beyond the limit of most dogs' days. He'll die pretty soon." Scott looked up, for the officer's voice trembled. He was stroking old Zigg's head gently, and the dog was looking 72 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. into his master's face with a low whine. Scott saw that tears were gHstening in the soldier's eyes, and wondered how it was that a moment before he had thought the officer so rude and hard-hearted. "Has he ever been at sea before?" he asked. " Not long at a time," replied the officer. " He doesn't like the salt water, and I don't blame him. But he took a trip with me a little while ago that very few dogs ever took, and he seemed to enjoy it." "What was that?" asked Scott. " I was ordered to carry despatches to Paris during the siege, and return with replies in ten days. I went along as a blind beggar, and Zigg carried a string that was tied to my wrist. He took the cue like an old actor ; and not a living soul suspected that I'd not been blind and led by that dog all my life. In three days I was in Paris. But how to get out again was harder. I tried three times, and failed. At last it came to where I had to go. There were only three days more. There was a balloon in Paris, and they offered me that. I didn't think much of flying, especially when the fellows outside knew the joke, and only waited to see a balloon in the air, to make a target of it. The only man who knew how to run the engine was afraid to go. But I took lessons all the afternoon, and at night I started. There was a full moon ; but clouds were coming up, and I waited till they were almost over the moon. Then I got in, and Zigg with me, and away we went. Heavens ! how we shot up ! It took my breath away, but I let her go. Zigg began to howl till he found that it was all right, and then he enjoyed it. We shot into the black clouds and out of them again in an instant ; and then all was bright above us, and nothing but a fog-bank beneath. She was running 74 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. away with me. I caught the rope, and began to pull. But suddenly I felt sick, and before I knew it I had fainted away. When I came to myself, we were whirling along right in the clouds. We must have come down a long way, I thought, and wondered why, till I looked round, and there sat Zigg, with the rope in his mouth, pulling for dear life. He must have seen it drop from my hands when I fainted, and taken the matter in mouth himself, because he could not take it in hand. I had no idea where we were ; but she was dropping, and I let her drop. We made bad work of landing ; but we were all right when we got out, and we left the old man's balloon hang- ing tangled up in a grove of trees." The officer turned to the dog again, and, laughing, said, " Old boy, your teeth are all gone now. You couldn't hold a string in those old jaws ; but your will's as good as ever it was." And getting up, he walked away, with Zigg following close at his heels. ALGIERS AND ENGINEERING. 75 CHAPTER VII. ALGIERS AND ENGINEERING. JLGIERS is a horrible place ! " exclaimed Scott, as he came on deck in the morning, and examined the little African town that they were approaching. "That depends upon how you see it, and where you look," replied the captam. " Point your glass up the hill there, port a little. There you are! What do you think of that ? " " Beautiful ! beautiful ! " exclaimed Scott. " What pretty little houses there about the grove ! And what is that big building? What makes them have those great white fences all about every house ? Oh, I know ! It's to keep the robbers off." " Right you are," replied the captain. " And what splendid broad roads ! The street commis- sioners of Boston should come over here, and find out how it looks to have their work properly done. They have done it just half way for so long, that they begin to think that that is really the right way to do it. And those are splendid wharves there too. Well, Algiers is not so bad, perhaps ; but that's a miserable little town down under the hills, on the water." " It's a little odd at first, like all heathen places ; but, when you get used to them, you'll like them, I warrant you. Every one does ; and, after you've been back in America for a while, 76 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. you'll begin to sigh for another sight of the horrible places, as you call them now." They made a very short stop at Algiers, to ship a small amount of cargo ; but Mr. Raymond and Scott took advantage of the two hours to go on shore. And Scott began to feel that fascination of which the captain had spoken : every thing was so wild, so strange, so intensely interesting, in spite of the bad smells and dirty streets, that were so narrow that sometimes they could almost touch both sides at once. There were such strange people as he had read of in " The Arabian Nights." There were Arabs and Moors and Turks, in all sorts of strange dresses, — some with fancy turbans on their heads, and fancy little jackets on their backs, and bagging breeches. Then there were fellows with cloaks all over them, even around their heads, bound there by a smaller turban. Some were very light, and some were very dark ; but there were none so black as the negroes of Boston. "These are not Africans, are they?" Scott asked Mr. Raymond in surprise, "Indeed, they are," said Richard. "Why did you think not ? " "Why, the Africans are very black," replied Scott. "The Africans that we see in America are black enouo-h, surely ; but they come from a very little corner compara- tively, — chiefly from the coast, far down to the South. The people of Zululand, or Zanzibar, are black, with thick lips and curling hair. But there are many Africans who are almost as white as we are, and all shades between." The booths, or native shops, of the bazaar, which itself is only a street of these shops, are not large stores, such as one finds in America ; and Scott stopped in wonder before the IN THE BAZAAR 78 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. little things, hardly larger than his stateroom on the steamer, filled up with all sorts of wares, beautiful cloths, jewelry, and the pottery that is so precious in America. He recognized some bits very much like ornaments in his own home. They stopped for a moment before one of the largest shops in the bazaar, where a very pretty young woman was having some silver ornaments fitted to her arm. She had a thin veil over her face ; but she was almost white, and through it her pretty features could be very plainly seen. " She is a Mussulman woman," said Richard. " It is the custom for all of them to go veiled ; but she is so pretty, that she hates to hide her face, so she makes the veil very thin. The old fellow standing behind her there, smoking the cigar- ette, is her husband. See that beautiful rug behind her, hanging on the wall." " I don't call it beautiful," said Scott. " Never mind, your mother and sisters would," replied Richard, laughing. " You could buy it for a song here, if you took the right course with the white-bearded old fellow ; but in Boston it would cost thirty or forty dollars, at the very least." At that moment some one slapped Mr. Raymond on the shoulder, and a hearty voice exclaimed, — " Speaking of Boston reminds me that I came from there myself a long time ago. It seems like a lifetime ; and I'm overjoyed to find any one else in the same box." They found themselves greeted by a Boston artist, there in the bewildering and dirty bazaar of Algiers, where Scott had thought himself surrounded by nothing but heathendom. The artist had been living there for several years, sending his pictures back to America for sale. He was disappointed ALGIERS AND ENGINEERING. 79 when he learned that they were to leave in an hour and a half, but insisted on their coming with him to his house, just in the outskirts of the town, and having breakfast with him. It was a pretty little place, on the verge of a hill, with a garden of brilliant flowers all about it, at one end of which Scott was amazed to see a tangle of dandelions and butter- cups. " Do they grow here ? " he asked, while his heart seemed beating in his throat, as his eyes rested on those little blossoms. "No, indeed!" replied the artist, tenderly picking one for each of his guests, and presenting them as though they had been the choicest of moss-roses. " I brought them with me from home. I had some daisies too, but I could not make them live. I know of nothing in the world that carries the heart back to dear old New England, when it is weary of being away, like the dandelions and daisies and buttercups. This is the most precious part of my garden. And it is a little peculiar ; but my neighbors, the natives living about here, think there is nothing so beautiful in the world, and almost all of them have roots growing in their gardens. They say, ' What a wonderful country yours must be, where such beautiful and fragrant flowers as the dadelean grow wild ! ' and, now that I am away from it, I am tempted to agree with them." " Then, why don't you go back ? " asked Scott more abruptly than he thought, he was so busy caressing the little yellow flower. The artist smiled. " I am making my fortune here," he said ; " and I expect to go back when that is made perhaps. But, after all, I love this place. There is something very 8p OUR BOYS IN INDIA. fascinating in Oriental life. I think we are too far from it in America. We are too rigid and straight there, and make life too much of a burden. There is Russia, for instance : it is much colder, and harder to keep comfortable there, than at home; but they are perfect Orientals, — the wealthy I mean, of course. I love America ; and, if I were not an American, I believe there is nothing in the world that I should long for so much as to be one. And yet, after each time that I have gone home for a vacation, the first sight of these long-robed, dark-skinned fellows, their dirty streets, their curious customs and melodious languages, have thrilled me with a pleasure that I cannot express. I hope that fortune may never place me where I shall be unable, at times, to revisit the Orient." The artist turned away from his bed of buttercups, and conducted his guests to his little breakfast-room. After break- fast he opened his studio at their request ; and, as Scott was particularly pleased with a painting which the artist had made of his grandfather, — who was one of the famous sculptors of London nearly a century ago, — in the act of making a clay model for a marble bust of the lord-mayor, that now stands in the Council chamber of the Houses of Parliament in Lon- don, he presented him, when he left, with a little medallion of the painting on a piece of ivory, that, about the outside, was beautifully carved, to form a frame. " I shall keep it as long as I live," said Scott to Mr. Raymond, as they were being rowed out to the steamer; " and I shall press this dandelion, and keep that too. He was a first-rate fellow, and I never thought half enough of our but- tercups at Beverly before." To occupy the time while on the voyage, Mr. Raymond succeeded in interesting Scott in the engineering of the IN MEMORY OF A PLEASANT HOUR. 82 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. steamer, among other things ; and here he had a valuable assistant in the chief engineer, who was an enthusiast in his department, as every man should be to succeed. Economical consumption was the order of the day ; and economical con- sumptionists had to give the palm, thus far at least, to this chief engineer. " You see," he said to Mr. Raymond and Scott one day as they came into his cabin, shortly after leaving Algiers, and caught him figuring, — "you see, the coal costs so much, that it is really one of the greatest items of the entire voyage. Why, I am going to save as much in coal, over what this same steamer consumed three years ago, as the salaries and feed of the whole crew for the entire voyage, including the captain and all." "What makes the coal cost so much?" asked Scott. " Transportation, my boy," replied the chief. " It has to be shipped from England to Gib and Malta and Port Said and Aden and Ceylon, and so on, to the end of navigation. Every mile that it is carried costs so much more coal to carry it ; and then it has to be stored and reshipped, and there's the insurance, the loss, the interest, and every thing else." " Why don't you carry coal enough to last ? " said Scott. " Take mor'n the steamer could carry, to last her the voyage. But look at here ! See what I have done this voy- age. We've three thousand tons dead freight." "What's dead freight?" asked Scott. "It is the solid, paying freight down in the holds. We have averaged over ten knots an hour." " I call that very slow time, especially when one is in a, hurry," interrupted Scott ; for he felt every delay and deten- ALGIERS AND ENGINEERING. 83 tion more keenly than he might under almost any other circumstances. " Our American steamers go it at fifteen knots and over, and then the passengers complain." "They are English steamers, after all, that take you so rapidly across the Atlantic," replied the chief a little gruffly, for economy was just then his hobby. " But even they could not do that in this water, no matter how much coal they burned." "Why not?" demanded Scott, ready to fight for any thing that was even so much American as a steamer leaving an American port. " There are several reasons. The density of the water is one. It is harder making time in this water than in the Atlantic. Then, the temperature is very much against us. The steam is condensed, you know, by constantly pumping water from the sea over the steam radiators. If you take a bottle half full of hot water, let the steam rise till it has filled the other half, and driven out the air, then cork it securely, and pour cold water over the half that is filled with steam, you will make the water boil ; and the colder the water is that you pour over the outside of the bottle, the harder the water inside will boil. It is on precisely the same principle that we magnify the heat of steam produced by the fires. When we are in water that is as warm as your blood, you can see that we get less benefit." Then he turned to Mr. Raymond, as though he were a little tired of talking to an unappreclative listener, and continued, "What I am proud of is, that we have made such time, with this burden, at an expense of actually less than fifteen tons of coal a day. Why, when ' The Great Eastern ' crossed the Atlantic in 1867, she only made fifteen knots an hour, and she actually burned over three hundred tons of coal every day." 84 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. " Yes," added Mr. Raymond : " the steamer that we have just crossed on consumed over a hundred tons a day, and they thought they were doing very well." "They can afford it," said the engineer. "In the first place, it costs them comparatively little. Then, their celebrity in opposition depends, in great part, on their speed." "I wish there was more opposition here," interrupted Scott, who did not intend to let the chief go too easily. But he only smiled, and continued, — " They carry large lists of passengers, and set expensive tables ; and one meal even is worth saving, even though at cost of a little more coal. It is just the other way with us." Scott was on the point of saying, " I should think so : " but he decided that he had already said too much ; and though the table of the steamer, like that of all the English steamers for India, was very poor, he laughed with himself over the little joke, and let the chief go free. " But I should think, that, if you can go ten knots so very cheaply, you might at least add another knot or two, which would save a deal of time at the end of the voyage." "That is just it," replied the chief pleasantly. "It is just that last straw that breaks the camel's back ; and that is where I am making the greater part of my saving. If you are walking down street, at home, on a warm day, and you walk leisurely, you can go a great way without being very warm." " I might in Boston, but I could not here," replied Scott, wiping the perspiration from his face. "Well, I am talking about Boston now, my boy. If you hurry, you become heated and tired before you have gone half as far." " I know that that is so," replied Scott. He was taking ALGIERS AND ENGINEERING. 85 Old Joe's advice with the greatest care : and, of all men on board, he did not mean to "sir" the chief engineer; for he could not but feel that in some way he was a little to blame for the slow progress that they were making. " Very well. It is just so with the engine." " If you keep the engine greased well, it should not get heated," said Scott, a little doubtful about the propriety of the engineer's logic. " Not exactly. But while it is very easy to drive the steamer at a moderate rate through the water, when we go faster the friction begins to tell, and the wheel, of course, has to turn much faster to produce the same effect. And every mile that we increase on the easy speed takes an in- creasingly larger quantity of coal. Many of the engineers who are trying to reach this economical plan do not think of this," added the chief with a chuckle ; and Scott said, with a shrug of his shoulders, — " I hope we shall go back on a steamer where the chief has not found it out." 86 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. CHAPTER VIII. SIGHTS IN THE SUEZ CANAL. T was night when the steamer reached Malta, in spite of all calculations to the contrary. Mr. Raymond went on shore to learn of the steamer from New York, and was assured that the two passengers whom he sought had transferred to the Indian steamer at that port. He was sure of it in advance ; but now additional weight was added to his theory, and all that was left was for them to reach Bombay at the earliest moment possible. All that Scott saw^ of Malta was the high walls of natural rock rising up out of the water, all about the steamer, with little houses built on the cliffs, and forts and fortifications on all the prominent places overlooking the almost land-locked bay. But he would much sooner have left without seeing even that than have waited an hour longer than necessary. With the first gray light they were again under way. All sails were set ; and, in spite of economy of coal, they were able to make the ofreat lio^ht of Port Said as the sun went down on the evening of the fourth day. There they were to coal up ; and a gloomy place it made of the pretty saloon of the steamer, to close it up fore and aft, and shut all the ports of the state- rooms, and draw the Venetian blinds and latches. But it had to be done, for a dirtier place can hardly be found on earth than one of the Indian steamers when they are coaling. Very slowly they worked their way up the harbor, till they SIGBTS IN THE SUEZ CANAL. 87 lay within a stone's throw of the cafes and dance-houses that are so abundant in Port Said. Instantly the steamer was sur- rounded with small boats of all sorts and sizes, with all kinds of passengers. But they were an ugly-looking set in the night, and Scott was not particularly enchanted with the terrible racket that was kept up. He went into his stateroom, but it was very warm and close. When the ship's papers were signed, and the crowd of agents was allowed to come on board and make their bargains for supplying the coal and provisions that were needed, the steamer became a little more quiet, and Scott went up on to the bridge to watch the operation of coaling. Huge flat-boats — lighters, they called them — came along- side. The coal is piled up in cubic blocks fifteen or twenty feet each way, with little alleys between them. One after another, the lighters are pushed up beside the steamer, one on each side ; and a narrow plank is run on the steamer's deck from each end of each of the lighters, and one from the middle if the steamer has four shoots to the coal-bunks. Then a multitude of vile Arabs, who are covered with the dirt of years at this business, with coarse blankets on their heads, upon which they carry baskets of coal, start on one never-ending line up the two planks at the ends of the lighters, dumping the contents of the baskets in the shoots, and meeting in the middle to come down the plank there in solid file for fresh basketfuls. The officers of the steamer usually weigh this coal in some way,, to avoid deception. This time the chief engineer went through the lighters ; and, picking out several of the blocks, he measured them carefully, and weighed them on large scales fixed over the shoots, as they were brought up. Then he measured all the other blocks, and estimated from thosp he had weighed. Then the work began in good earnest. The lines g8 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. were formed. The Arabs began to sing a horrible nasal song, and to climb the narrow plank, one close behind the other. Port Said was a dirty little town, made up only of such people as could earn a living or a fortune out of the steamers that were continually stopping there ; and after an hour's stroll the next morning, through the damp streets, vile smelling, and teeming in the heat of the sun, that was something terrific, the two travellers went back again to the steamer, perfectly satisfied to be under way again. The Suez Canal was a sight that Scott had looked forward to ever since starting for India. He was disappointed, and yet it was wonderful. It was only a narrow river of salt water, not half as wide, at the most, as the steamer was long. There were low banks on either side, of the whitest of white sand ; and now and then there was a station, an official building, and sometimes two or three hovels about it. The officials at these stations managed the progress of the steamers by telegraph with the other stations, to prevent any accidents ; for the channel was not wide enough for two steamers to pass, and the first steamer to pass a station had the right of way to the next. Sometimes a steamer was unfortunate, and had to keep tying up all day long, to let others pass, and was three or even four days in getting through the canal ; but usually it was not more than two, and in the long days steamers have been through in a single day. But this is not often the case : for, at the best, they are only allowed to go at the very slow, rate of five knots an hour, except in the Bitter Lakes ; and they can only move between sunrise and sunset, except with especial permission, which is hard to obtain. It was rather monotonous, but Scott did not mean to lose any of it on that account. The pilot of the Canal Company 90 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. Stood on the bridge, so that the captain was not so much con- fined as he had been ; and Scott always found his company interesting. Now and then, too, there was a sight that was well worth seeing In a little oasis, or a little native village as gray-white as the sand which was all about It, or a caravan, or a pilgrim winding his way along the banks. "Whatever possessed those natives to build a village there ? " Scott asked the captain, pointing to a little town they were passing. " There is not a green thing anywhere about it." " There is nothing green just now." replied the captain ; " and at the best there is not much to boast of, thouofh In the winter and spring there is a little grass about the houses. But they certainly find something to live on, or they would not be there. Caravans always stop there, for one thing. There is a ferry a little lower down, and we shall very likely see a caravan crossing. But there's always something to do wherever there is a village : you may depend on that, no matter where you are. Were you ever in the north of Norway ? " " No, sir," replied Scott, surprised that the captain should ask him such a question, forgetting that Norway was really much nearer his home than the Suez Canal. "Well, when you go to Norway," said the captain, "you will see, along the northern coast, a hundred villages with less show for a livl-ng than yonder town. Every thing Is bare rocks there, and Icy cold ocean. They have a legend, that when God had completed the world, and made every thing beautiful, he lay down to take a nap, and that the Evil One was so outraged that he had succeeded so well, that he took up a tremendous rock, and threw It with all his strength at the world. It struck near the pole, and was shivered to small pieces. It would have sent the entire hulk into kingdom come, had not God waked SIGHTS IN THE SUEZ CANAL. 91 up at that moment, and put his hand on his trembhng- world, to keep it where it was. But it tipped the earth a little way, and that is why the poles are inclined, to this day. There was but little of the material left from which God had made the earth ; and that he spread, as best he could, in a few of the cracks between the ugly splinters of the rock that the Devil threw. That was all he could do, and to this day that bar- ren splintered rock remains ; and that is Norway. And yet there is a whole nation of people living up there, and making, not only good livings, but such fortunes, sometimes, that many from Denmark and Germany are tempted up into those frozen, rocky deserts, in a desire to get rich." Scott made up his mind that one of the first things he did, when he became a man, would be to go to Norway, and see that strange land that the Devil added to the beautiful world that God had made. But he had no time to ask more about it then, for just ahead appeared the ferry of which the captain had told him ; and to his delight he discovered that a caravan was in the very act of crossing. He left the bridge, and went as far forward as possible, to obtain a better view. Thirty or forty camels, with curious bags upon their backs, and some of them with a man or woman balanced between the bags, were huddled upon one bank, and as many were forming into a new line of march on the other. Between the two, a broad, flat-bottomed boat was slowly moving, with its long-necked burden. There were white and black camels, and almost all shades between. But they were shaggy, dirty creatures, and not the handsome, graceful animals that Scott supposed the real camels of the real Orient must be. Old Joe was beside him, holding a rope, for they had been sig- nalled to tie up ; and Scott gave vent to his disappointment in words. ^2 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. The old quartermaster did not move his head, or hardly his lips ; for it was against the strictest orders to speak to passengers when upon canal duty ; but he answered him nevertheless. " Mind how you look at things, my lad," said he. " A ship comin' out o' a long voyage, her masts and spars all black, her riggin' ragged, her canvas dunned, the paint knocked off her keel, and barnacles a-hangin' to her water- line, — there's nothing purty about sich. And them ships o' the desert is built on the same stocks." " Very well," said Scott, laughing, and apparently speak- ing to himself; for he saw that he had made a mistake in breaking the rules: "I will wait till I see them under better circumstances." "Wait till ye overhaul a camel that's not been loggin' sand for three months, and ye'll see as neat a ship as ever sailed the sea. They hail from Bagdad, those camels, and they're headed for Cairo." Scott beean to look at them with new interest, and to think them a wonderful sight, after all. All the way from Bagdad ! No wonder they were dusty. Several very small steamers passed them, carrying passen- gers up and down the canal, — steamers made for canal travel, that drew only a few inches of water, and could go close up to the banks. There were other small craft, too, in the canal, — native sailing-boats, creeping along from one station to another with loads of fish and melons. They were curious melons, yellow as gold, and shrivelled like a summer squash. Scott thought they were pumpkins, and bought three of them, and, carrying them in triumph to the chief steward, asked him to have some American pumpkin-pies made of them. SIGHTS IN THE SUEZ CANAI. 93 The steward replied that he would find them better raw, and began to cut a piece from one of them. " That's because you Englishmen don't know what an American pumpkin-pie is," said Scott with a toss of his head. But when he saw the steward really begin to eat the piece he had cut off, and as though he enjoyed it, he cut off one too, and, to his astonishment, found himself eating one of the coolest, sweetest, and most delicious cantelopes he had ever tasted. He did not say any more about pie ; but the first time that the steamer stopped again, and he had an oppor- tunity, he bought a basketful of those pumpkins, and Mr, Raymond very willingly assisted him to dispose of them raw. The fish that the fellows had to sell were caught in the canal. They were large and very good. It gave Scott an idea ; and, when the steamer was still at night, he tried his luck over the stern. Some of the boatmen had clams for sale too : they were a little odd in shape ; but Scott's home was New England, and he knew the peculiar virtues of clam- bakes and oyster-stews, and again went to the chief steward, '' Can't we have some fried clams for breakfast ? " he asked. " Certainly," replied the steward : " any thing that the ship has, or can get, you are welcome to ; but you must agree to eat them, if they are cooked expressly for you." " Of course I will," said Scott, but a little doubtfully, for he remembered the pumpkin-pie. " What is the matter with them ? " he added, as the steward smiled. " Oh, nothing much ! Only they are full of sand." " Never mind the sand ! " Scott exclaimed. '' I euess I can go them for all that." And he honestly tried to, when the tempting little dish was set before his plate at the table : but it was inexpressibly worse than eating Beverly straw- 94 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. berries before they were washed ; and, boy that he was, he had given that up years ago. It was very hot in the canal. The sun beat down with nothing to break its force, and the sand returned good in- terest for all that fell upon it. The glare, too, was terrible ; and, long before they were out of it, Scott had to borrow of the captain a pair of colored glasses, for his eyes began to suffer. At night the heat seemed even more oppressive. The breeze that blew from the baking sand-banks was almost hotter than the sun. Scott opened his port window wide, on going to bed, in spite of the steward's warning, that, before morning, he would be nearly eaten up with sand-fleas. The steamer was so still that he did not go to sleep at once, and was only drowsy when he heard Mr. Raymond come softly into his room, and shut the port. He thought it was for the sand-fleas, and, turning over, said, — "I left it open on purpose. I'd much rather be eaten up than roasted," Richard laughed, and replied, " You'll be neither roasted nor eaten up, but frozen to death before morning, if you leave your port open in the canal at this season," Scott was too sleepy even to laugh at what he supposed was a joke of some sort ; but he remembered it, and found it no joke, after all, when he awoke about two o'clock with a cold chill. He drew a blanket over him, but it seemed im- possible to get warm ; and at last he partially dressed him- self, and went out to walk in the saloon. In a few moments the chill left him ; but the re-acting fever set in, and he seemed burning up. At the end of the saloon was the cabin side- board and a sort of pantry in a little room opposite the cap- tain's cabin. The water-tank was kept there, and Scott went SIGHTS IN THE SUEZ CANAL. 95 in for a drink. As he opened the door, there was a scurry of feet on the floor, a yelp, a flash from two greenish-yellow eyes, and a large, dark figure leaped out of the window, touched the deck, bounded over the narrow stretch of inter- vening water, and went howling up the sand-hill before he could either be frio^htened and shut the door, or be darine enough to think of some mode of attacking the creature. It effectually cured the fever, however ; and, when he went to bed again, his knees were not precisely steady, and he was enjoying a healthy perspiration. The steamer was under way again when Scott awoke in the morning; and, when he came into the saloon, the second steward was complaining to the chief that some of the sailors had stolen a cold roast that he left in the saloon pantry the night before. He said they must have taken it through the large sideport, which he left open to keep the meat cool, and save him the trouble of going to the ice-chest with it. " You left the deck-port open, did you ?" growled the chief in a surly way. " Did you never know that the jackals along these banks are tame as kittens ? Take the price of the roast out of your pay at the end of the voyage. Go about getting the breakfast." Scott smiled at the fright he had received the night before all from a frightened jackal. " I did come near freezing," he said to Richard when he appeared on deck. " What makes it so cold in the canal at night?" "It is always cold on a desert before morning," replied his friend. " There is a deep philosophy in it, which you will find out in the course of delving through college. Books will teach you every thing, Scott; and there are hosts of people who think g6 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. their children should learn every thing from books, and would rather they would spend a year in college to find it out than to sleep one night on the Suez Canal. But you'll not forget it half so quickly as if you'd dug it out of a dog-eared book. The sun shining on the sand all day makes an oven of it, that sends up a torrent of heat. The whole of South Europe, you know, is kept warm by the hot wind from the Sahara ; and, of course, to have that hot wind blow, a cold wind must be supplied from somewhere, to be heated." "Oh, I see!" exclaimed Scott; "and after sundown the supply keeps on, and as long as the sand remains hot the furnace continues to run all right ; but, when the heat is ex- hausted, it becomes colder and colder, till, in the re-action, it at last becomes colder than the surrounding air." " I should think that that covered it," replied Richard, smiling, " though a philosopher would laugh at us, you may be sure." Just before breakfast the steamer passed Ismalia, a little town upon a lake, with a beautiful stretch of blue water about it, and a dense green jungle behind. A palace of the Khedive was surrounded by a large garden at one end of the town ; and a little farther down the bank was the palace that was built for the Emperor Napoleon, at the opening of the Suez Canal. " It must be fun to have such a time made over you as that, and have a palace built for you, whenever you expect to stop over night where the hotels are not grand enough to satisfy you," said Scott, looking admiringly at the little gray sandstone palace. "And it must be fun to be kicked out, as Napoleon was, when the people are tired of you, and not have them care a straw whether you have a roof to cover you or not." SIGHTS IN THE SUEZ CANAL. 97 " Perhaps it's just as well to go along sort of half and half, after all," said Scott. " I am inclined to think it is much better," replied Richard ; but Scott was eagerly watching a native craft that had been slowly sailing along the border of the canal, in the shoal water, with a heavy load of melons. When they had nearly passed her, the Arab at the helm veered a point toward the steamer, and suddenly the old craft began to increase its speed. Faster and faster it went, till it kept up with the steamer, and its prow was just ahead of the steamer's wheel. The weak and heavily-laden boat sagged and bent, and seemed ready to go to pieces, and the huge sail hung against the bamboo mast. Scott studied the matter intently. He saw that Mr. Raymond was watching him, and he hated to ask him to explain the curious sight. It was evident that something was dragging the craft along at a terrific rate for her, and that those on board were having a very good time over it. The propelling power came from the steamer in some way, for the boat neither gained nor lost after it had once come into position ; but there was no rope, or any means of communication with the steamer. " Do you give it up ? " asked Richard, smiling. " No, indeed, sir," said Scott stoutly. And just at that moment his eye fell on the water, and he began to see through it, or into it at least. In going forward, the steamer, of course, pushed just so much water out of place, or made a hole in the canal ; and, just as soon as the steamer had passed, it left the hole with nothing to fill it, unless the water rushed up from behind, and down from both sides, to take the place. This made a current rushing in behind the steamer at precisely the same rate at which the steamer was going, and the Arabs had learned the trick of taking- advantaofe of it. 98 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. " It is what they call stealing our wake-water," said Richard, when Scott had satisfactorily solved the matter. "There's another great principle of philosophy that you'll understand already, when you come across it, years hence, in some of those musty books." About two-thirds of the way through the canal they came upon the Bitter Lakes, — enormous salt lakes stretching over the white sand, with a station or two and a green spot or two appearing here and there, and salt marshes everywhere. Here they were allowed to go at full speed ; and, the way being carefully marked by signals, even the pilot came from the bridge with a sigh of relief, and lit a cigar. All of a sudden Scott began to realize that it was no laughing matter to take a large steamer through seventy-five miles of that narrow path, where the least deviation in the course, or the least swerving to the current or the wind, or an instant's delay in giving an order to the men at the wheel, or in having it obeyed, or the slightest objection of the steamer to mind the helm, even a hand's breadth, would send the prow into the soft bank of the channel ; and, of course, the motion of the steamer would then bring the stern round to the opposite side, and there the steamer would lie, stuck fast, fore and aft. "Did such a thing ever occur?" Scott asked the captain. " When the canal was first opened, and the pilots had not learned the new business, it often happened," replied the captain. " I have lain still in this water for four days, wait- ing for them to unload a large ship, that was stuck so fast that nothing else would get her out. There is a sort of suc- tion in the sand ; and the tendency is to draw tighter and tighter, when once a steamer has run her nose into it. But SIGHTS IN THE SUEZ CANAL. 99 the pilots are growing brighter and brighter every year. You might have noticed, — but I fancy you didn't, after all, — a little while ago, the wind took us a bit, and I thought her nose was right in it, on the port side. Quicker'n thought the pilot gave the order to go ahead at full speed, and put her helm hard-a-port. In a couple o' winks that would have driven her square into the bank for which she was heading ; but the jump that the engines gave her, and just the motion of the rudder in going round, sent her in a bit aft, like the push of an oar in skulling a fish-boat ; and, before she could feel the helm, he had put it to starboard again, and slowed down, and we were all right in the channel. It's a wonder- ful thing, this handling a steamer," he added with a sigh, and leaned back against the rail in silent admiration. By good fortune they made the rest of the canal without detention ; and, in the dusk that so quickly succeeds an Egyptian sunset, they passed the station beyond Suez, The city itself lay three miles back upon the bay ; but Mr. Raymond assured Scott that he lost nothing in not seeing it, for, though larger than Port Said, it was upon precisely the same principle, supported only by the steamers that stopped there, and of no importance to the sight-seer. lOO OUR BOYS IN INDIA. CHAPTER IX. ARABIA AND HER WATER-BABIES. ']HEY did not leave the deck that night till the dim coast of Egypt on one side, and the shores of the arm of the Red Sea on the other, were lost to sight in the dim shadows. " It seems as though the journey were completed," said Scott. " Yes," replied Richard, as they went below : " we have passed the great gateway between the Occident and Orient. But what is the matter, Scott ? you look pale," he added, as they came into the light of the saloon. " I have felt queer," said Scott with a shiver, " ever since taking my bath this morning." All the Oriental steamers are supplied with several bath- rooms, that are always popular, where the passengers can bathe in water drawn fresh for them from the ocean. "Where were we when the steward drew the water for your bath this morning?" asked Richard. " In the Bitter Lakes, I think." said Scott. "That explains it," replied Richard, much relieved, for he feared the heat of the voyage might be proving too much for his young friend. " Those lakes are very broad, and rather shallow ; and the great heat of the sun, and the porous bed, carry off such a vast amount of water, of the fresh-water part at least, that that which is left becomes the saltest, ARABIA AND HER WATER-BABIES. loi hardest, and, to speak plainly, the most electric water in the world, except, perhaps, the water of the Dead Sea. When you undress, you will find yourself all covered with fine white dust. You had better have the steward bring some hot fresh water to your room, and take a thorough bath in it. In an hour or two I will come in and see how you feel." "That is another bit of philosophy that has come to me without the aid of books," said Scott, laughing, as he went to his room, and acted as Richard had advised, with perfect success, " Do you think we have crossed the place where the chil- dren of Israel went over on dry land ? " he asked Mr. Ray- mond, when they went on deck in the morning. Richard smiled. "That would be a hard thing to say," he replied. " You know, there are a host of theories about the flight of the children of Israel, and just what the Bible means. I don't agree at all with people who think it is only a story. I believe there is truth in it, and that, when Moses wrote of it, he meant to tell a true history. But the question is, whether we understand it correctly. There was a book published only a little while ago, in Germany, which appeared to explain it very sensibly. The name that is used in the original is not that of the Red Sea, but the Reedy Sea. That was the name of this northern part of the Red Sea ; but it was also the name of a long, swampy sea just north of what is now Port Said, and to the west of it. When the wind was strong from the east, this was dry land, and, when it came strong from the west, it piled up the Mediterranean till the water there was quite deep. That was just the course that the children of Israel would have taken in gfoinof into Syria, for the regular caravans all went that way ; and, when I02 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. they were in such haste to get out of the kingdom of Pharaoh, they would not have come way down here to the south, and struck for this Red Sea, when to do it tliey must go past several caravan tracks that would have taken them rio-ht out, and over dry land, where the Suez Canal now is. But this other route to the north, and past the other Reedy Sea, was the very shortest of all." Scott's face fell while Richard was talking. " You may be right, but I hope not," he replied. "Why?" asked Mr. Raymond. " Why, because, if that is the case, I lay awake half the night last night for nothing." "What made you do that?" said his friend, laughing. " Because I thought we were going over the place where the children of Israel were, and I wanted to enjoy it," said Scott. "And you enjoyed it just as much as if it were true, did you not ? " asked Richard. "I suppose so. But then" — " I wouldn't ' but then ' at all. You've had the fun. If you turn sceptical, you'll find you'll have to doubt almost every relic in the world. You'll have an opportunity to double the pleasure by going some time to the real sea, if the other one is real ; and between them you'll probably hit the right one. I've seen three skulls of St. Peter, in different places ; but it did not make them any less interesting. I called the old priest to account who was showing me the second one. Said I, ' Look here, I have just seen one skull of this man in Rome.' — ' Ah ! ' said he scornfully, ' that was only when he was a boy.' " " I guess it's something like the sailors' yarns : believe ARABIA AND HER WATER-BABIES. 103 every thing or nothing," said Scott, when the breakfast-bell sounded. Two days later they were just off Jedda, the seaport of the great city of Mecca, the very holy city of the Mohammedans. They could see nothing of the land ; but Scott fully appreciated the situation, for he was getting into that enviable condition of the professional tourist where even the proximity of any thing remarkable becomes a sensation. A few days later the steamer dropped anchor off the rocky coast of the barren — terribly barren — Arabian town of Aden, another great coaling-port. They took a little drive through the old town, with its his- toric tanks ; but the most amusing sight of the day, and one that kept Scott by the steamer's side as long as she was in port, after returning from the drive, was the crowd of naked little Arabs that swarmed in the water about the ship. They were thin, wiry little fellows, from ten to fifteen years old, and were in the water from early in the morning till three in the afternoon. Their hair was long ; and many of them had it bleached with dye, till at the ends it was yellow, while at the roots it was the natural black. They seemed to enjoy the water as much as ducks, and all the time they kept up a sort of song : — "Lemmedive, lemmedive, lemmedive, Ever'day, ever'day, ever'day, Tromershillin', tromershillin', tromershillin'," sang the urchins, though it sounded more like a series of spas- modic grunts than music. "What language is it that they speak?" asked Scott. " English," replied Richard. . I04 OUR BOYS JN INDIA. " English ! " repeated Scott. " Why, what in the world are they saying ? ". "They want you to throw them a shilling, and let them dive for it ; but if I were you I would make it a threepenny bit, for they will dive just as quickly for that." Scott threw a silver threepence into the water. In an instant every little head had disappeared, and twice as many feet were above the water. Then they, too, disappeared, and the water was c[uiet where before there had been such a crowd of noisy heads. There was not a sign nor a sound of one of them, till suddenly the water seemed full of yellow heads just below the surface ; and then all the faces appeared, and the successful diver held up the piece of money with a grin that made his white teeth glisten ; and then putting it into his mouth, as he had no other pocket about him, he began again the song that the others were already singing, — " Lemmedive, lemmedive, lemmedive, Ever'day, ever'day, ever'day, Tromershillin', tromershillin', tromershillin'." When the silver-pieces came slowly, and it was growing an old story, they varied the performance by climbing up on to the steamer. Sometimes the sailors got after them, and they would run along the rail, and even up into the rigging ; and, when they were hard pressed, they would jump into the water, no matter how high up they were, sometimes disappearing on one side of the steamer to come up on the other. And then, looking round, they would expect some silver to be thrown to them as reward for making the passengers laugh ; and there was quite a company of these passengers now, for several had joined at Port Said, and several at Suez. ARABIA AND HER WATER-BABIES. 105 " Are they not afraid of sharks ? " Scott asked of the captain, who was passing. " Not when they go in that way," rephed the captain. " They make that noise, and keep up that splashing, to frighten them. One of those boys alone would not come out here ; and you'll find that one will not remain very long alone, even on the other side of the steamer. There are sharks all about them, but the fish are afraid of a racket." When the steamer left the harbor, and the boys were turn- ing back to shore, they threw kisses to the passengers, crying, " Goobbye, Englishman ! Bergood, Englishman ! " " I don't believe there is an Englishman among us, except the sailors and officers," said Scott. " We are all Englishmen in their eyes," replied Mr. Ray- mond. " After we pass the Suez Canal, and until we reach China, ' Englishman ' is the name applied to every one with a white face." They were now well out upon the open sea again, with a perfectly straight line between them and Bombay. The sun rose over the prow, and set directly aft. Scott had taken Richard's advice, and kept his watch at the same time as when he left his home ; and this enabled him to tell very nearly what they were doing in Beverly, whenever he looked at his watch, without the necessity of calculating the difference of time, and also to tell of the progress the steamer was making, and her nearness to Bombay. While they were sailing eastward, the days were at least twenty minutes less than twenty-four hours long ; for every day they approached the rising sun, and " met it half way," as the captain said. While sailing down the Red Sea, they had made but little progress in time, for their course was nearly southward ; but io6 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. then there were continual appearances of islands and coast- lines to break the monotony, and Scott found the study of navigation something very exciting. Often the captain had let, him lay out the day's course, and calculate the changes by the chart, while he stood by the table, looking on. They would take the observation, calculate the exact position, and then try IN THE CAPTAIN'S ROOM and set the steamer so that the next land to come in sight would be over some particular object on deck, forward of the bridge, to see how near right they could hit it. The names given to those points of land that fill the southern part of the Red Sea, making the navigation there very difficult, are as curious as the names of some of the Western villages in America. One of the last they passed ARABIA AND HER WATER-BABIES. . 107 before reaching Aden was a group of rocky islands called " The Twelve Apostles." Scott was standing near where Old Joe was scrubbing one of the steamer's boats, as they passed The Twelve Apostles ; and he counted the islands carefully, as every traveller does who passes them for the first time ; and, after counting them several times, he made the remark, that thousands of travellers have made before him, " Why, quartermaster, there are only eleven islands there ! How is it that they are called ' The Twelve Apostles' ? " And the old quartermaster made the reply that every sailor who ever sailed the sea has learned, as a standing joke on the land-lubbers, while he smiled with one corner of his mouth and with one eye, — "One of 'm — Judas, you know — went down." But now that they were out on the Indian Ocean, all this excitement was over, and the great pleasure of the day was in marking the increasing difference in time. When Scott's watch told him it was just noon in Beverly, the ship's time had reached eight o'clock and after in the evening. And when he got up, at six o'clock in the morning, he found that it was only a little after nine the night before at home. It was a curious sensation that it was very hard to accustom himself to. They were entirely out of sight of land now. To the north of them were the great pearl-fisheries of the Persian Gulf, and to the south there was nothing, — nothing but a few little islands between them and the frozen South Polar Sea. It had been almost impossible to wear any clothes at all in the Red Sea, where they had to have a double awning stretched over the deck and the bridge for protection against the sun ; and even then it was necessary to protect the head against the piercing rays with great cork or pith helmets. Io8 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. Mr. Raymond had procured one of these pith helmets for Scott at Port Said. He had one for himself in his trunk. They were almost like washbowls. The brim was very broad, sloping down over the shoulders, and was more than an inch thick, while the crown was three or four inches in thickness. But, being made of such light material, they were lighter, even, than an ordinary hat. The band that fitted about the head was lifted from the hat, to allow a perfect ventila- tion under the crown ; and the crown was so thick that the sun could not penetrate it. Scott found it the coolest and most comfortable hat he had ever worn. Another notion that Richard introduced, which Scott found decidedly agreeable, was a means of cooling drinking-water. Where the temperature was so high, it was dangerous to drink of the ice-water ; but without ice the ship's water was warm and insipid. At Port Said Richard bought them each a Hindu kuja, or chatti. Scott laughed, and asked what in the world that sort of a thing could be good for ; but he very soon found out. The ktija were of plain, clay-colored earthenware, like large wine-decanters, and were very rough and coarse and ugly. Richard put some of the milk-warm ship's water into them, and set them in the hot sun, on the deck. The clay was so coarse and porous, that soon each kuja was glistening and wet over the outside. Scott looked on, more amused than really interested ; for he was sure that the burning sun, falling full upon the little earthen jugs, must almost boil the water before long. In half an hour Richard came on deck with a glass, and, turning some water from the kuja, gave it to Scott, who looked at it for a moment, and could hardly believe it the ARABIA AND HER WATER-BABIES. 109 same as that which had been put in there. It was clear and sparkling-. He touched it to his lips, and uttered an excla- mation of surprise ; for it was as cool and fresh as spring- water. "How in the world can that be?" he asked. Richard smiled, as he replied, " It is only another of those great principles of philosophy that you are going to learn by and by. The water Is cool and wet : the air is hot and dry. The kuja is very porous, and allows the water to evaporate from everywhere at once. Of course, it cannot evaporate till it becomes as warm as, or warmer than, the air ; and this rapid evaporation carries off the heat till it falls considerably below its original temperature. That is a rough way of putting it, Scott, rough as the kuja Itself ; but you will know all about it in real scientific language by and by." "How long ago was it discovered?" asked Scott. " Hundreds of years," replied Richard. " Necessity Is the mother of Invention ; and, ao^es before our civilized world knew any thing about the principle of reducing heat by rapid evapo- ration, the Hindus were using these ktijas to cool their water, just as they use them to-day." "Is it any thing like the way that we manufacture Ice?" asked Scott. " The fundamental law Is the same ; and the art of manu- facturing ice, too, Is something that we borrowed from the Hindus. If we go to Calcutta I will show you, a little way from the city, where the natives are manufacturing ice, just as they have manufactured It for centuries." " Well, what in the world has civilization done ? " asked Scott almost indignantly. " You'll ask that question oftener, the more you see of the I lo . OUR BOYS IN INDIA. Hindus," replied Mr. Raymond. " Civilization has given us more elaborate and skilful and effective methods of accom- plishing the same ends : that is all. You will be surprised to find that almost every thing we have is to be found far back in the history of some of these old nations. The Hindus were playing chess and whist on their marble balconies long before any other nation knew any thing about the games. They invented the decimal system, that makes mathematics so easy, and that will soon be used in every thing, as the standard of all calculations, all over the world. They were the first, too, to use figures, instead of letters, as in the old Roman system of computing." "I thought it was the Arabs," said Scott. "They are always called Arabic characters." " So they are," replied Richard. " But that is only because the Arabs introduced the figures to us Westerners, when all there was of us was a few barbaric and half-barbaric tribes in Europe, and a few half-enlightened and very aristocratic nations in Syria and Egypt, and Italy and Greece. The Arabs of Bagdad are the fellows that have the credit of this ; for they were obliged to use the figures first, in their trading with merchants from over the Himalaya Mountains, who brought the new system up from India." " But we have steam and electricity, at least, to boast of as modern discoveries," replied Scott, intent upon standing up for his own people, as every true man and boy should. " That is what a great many of the wisest scholars of our day declare," returned Richard ; " and yet they are beginning to find out that they are mistaken even there. It is not certain about electricity, though there are several evidences already discovered that the ancients understood and made use ARABIA AND HER WATER-BABIES. m of it. But it is very certain that the Egyptians used steam- power in several cases ; and, long before that, the Hindus lifted heavy weights, and did other wonderful things with steam, as you will see if we get well into India. But they never placed such importance as we do upon it, for there was not the occasion. Their requirements were very few. It took almost nothing to support a family ; and it followed that there were a plenty of men to do every thing that needed doing, and they were ready to do it for a very small sum. As you see, even now, in coaling the steamers, and in a host of such things that are done by steam in Europe and America, the work is really done so much more cheaply by men here in the East, that, even though we have the improvements, they are not introduced." . " Did they accomplish as much in all branches as in these ? " Scott asked. " The very first work that was ever written upon language was a Hindu grammar. It is still in existence, written in India seven hundred years before Christ. There are eight large volumes." " I'm glad I was not a schoolboy in India twenty- five hun- dred years ago, with those eight volumes to study before I could pass an examination in grammar," said Scott with a sigh. " But wait till we arrive," added Richard, as with a smile he noted Scott's perplexed face : " you will see hosts of evi- dences of what those old fellows knew." " But I thought they were heathen ! " exclaimed Scott. " That is surely what we call them," replied Richard : " and they are certainly far behind us to-day ; for they have been almost standing still for hundreds of years, and for the last 112 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. two centuries they have been falling behind, till they are not half the people now that their ancestors were. They did their discovering while our ancestors were savages ; then we took it up, and have gone so far beyond them, that they seem almost like savages to us instead. But keep your eyes open, Scott, and do not be prejudiced against the Hindus by all the disagreeable things you hear. You may find, that, after all, these people are much better and wiser, even to-day, than the books and newspaper reports in England and America would have us believe." The sunsets over the Indian Ocean were inexpressibly beautiful. Scott thought he had never seen any thing so grand, as he stood in the companion-way abaft the saloon, from where he could obtain an unbroken view of the mag- nificent display, as the sinking sun set the clouds on fire, flashed red on the water till it seemed like a sea of blood, filled even the air with its purple glow, tinged all the sky, and dyed the rigging and deck of the steamer. Then sud- denly, as it dropped below the sea, a gray light put out the brilliant coloring, and the Tyrian cloud settled down over the opposite horizon, that forever hangs in the East, like a pillar, leading the pilgrim on to the mythic land. Another diversion which Scott found in the Indian Ocean was watching and studying the flying-fish. They had swarmed about the steamer ever since she had entered the Mediter- ranean Sea ; but he had never before had time to pay them much attention. They would rise out of the water in large flocks often, and sometimes fly for a great distance, keeping close to the water, at last dropping as though they had been shot. " What makes them fly so close to the water, and all the ARABIA AND HER WATER-BABIES. 113 while strike the top of the waves ? " Scott asked Old Joe one day. " To wet their wings, my lad," replied the quartermaster. "They've ne'er a feather, and can only flop out o' water while their wings is wet. When they dry, they stick, and then down the bird goes." " Well, what makes them fly at all ? Why don't they stay where they belong ? " " 'Tain't the nature o' the craft, no mor'n 'tis o' any thing else that kicks, to stay where't belongs, if it can get some- where else," replied the old quartermaster with a twinkle in his little eyes ; " but these little skiffs ha' a better excuse than most. They strike for the air when some big fish is over- hauling 'em that wants to take 'em in." "Are they good to eat?" asked Scott. " None better that swims the sea," said Joe decidedly. " I should like to catch one, at least to look at," said Scott. " Hano- a lantern abaft the bridw there, where the deck's low to the water, and you'll have a boatload o' 'em, that'll beat their bulkheads against the glass and go aground there, before morning." " They are curious things," said Scott, as a flock of large ones rose just before the steamer and flew away. "There's many a wonder that's real, that beats the biggest yarn I ever heard afore the mast," replied Joe : " did ye never hear o' John the Scotch bye, my lad, when he come off the sea, to his old mother ? " "Never," said Scott. "What was it?" " Why, ye see, he went to yarning the old gal on what he'd sighted in hot water. He told her how there were mountains 114 ^^^ BOYS IN INDIA. all sugar, and how the rivers were running rum. And when he had pumped his bilge clean, and the yarn pulled taut, he slaked a little aft, and swung round afoul o' facts, and spoke a bit o' the flying-fish, and sich likes. ' Aha, thin, John ! ' says she, ' mountains o' sugar, an' rivers o' rum, I kin a weel ken how souch maun be ; but when ye coum talk o' the fish that fly, John, ye maun na till that to me.' And it's many a like craft that I've logged, my lad. Haul your line where ye will, the bigger the yarn, the better. They'll take all you'll give 'em slack. But come to realities, and many's the craft I've seen kick over 'em like a ship in a lumpy sea, and never believe a word." "There are a lot of wonders to be seen, and no mistake," said Scott enthusiastically. " There are many things that I have seen that I could hardly have believed if any one had told me. I believe I should like to spend my life upon the sea, just for the pleasure of it." Old Joe turned abruptly, and looked at Scott for an instant. Then he muttered, " Who'll go to sea for pleasure'll go to hell for pastime. That's what we say 'fore the mast ; but it's not the thing for an old tar to be saying to a lad from the first cabin. Don't stow it away in your locker, lad. 'Tis only Old Joe's way o' talking ; and because it's Old Joe's way don't begin to make it right for him no mor'n it does with others." This last Old Joe added with a jerk and a snap, like the firing of a potato popgun ; and it contained a wisdom that Scott by no means despised. But the quartermaster was ashamed of himself, and hurried to change the subject, remarking, — " It's a bit o' lovely sea that's on to-day." ARABIA AND HER WATER-BABIES. n^ There had been hardly any motion to the steamer since entering the Straits of Gib. It was Hke a river-steamer all the way, only that the machinery did not make so much jarring ; and now the sea lay like a huge mirror. "Is it always so smooth as this here?" asked Scott. "Always at this season," replied the quartermaster; "but you should 'a' been here two weeks or even a week ago, to 'a' seen the old gal churning." " How do you know?" said Scott, on the lookout for yarns now. " It's the reg'lar monsoons, my lad. Here's the spot where a seabird can reckon to a certainty. One-half the year it's blow great guns, and steady as the binnacle from the sou'west. Then it's lay off a day or two, and begin again a purty little breeze like this for the nor'east monsoon. That's the way it should be : then a lad could go hang up ashore for the rough weather, and out again when it's calm." " I thought sailors always like rough weather. They are always singing about it." Old Joe shrugged his shoulders, smiled grimly, and walked away, singing as he went, — " Roar away the wild wind, aha ! aha ! Beat away the mad waves, oho ! oho ! My heart is happy, my arm is strong, aha ! oho ! I'll weather the gale, no matter how long, aha ! oho ! The mad waves beat, and the wild winds blow." And then came the chorus, but Joe was out of hearing. They were so near to Bombay now, that Scott could cal- culate within a few hours the time that they would arrive. It had taken them ten days to go from New York to Liver- Il6 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. pool. They were two days in England, and it would be twenty-eight days from Liverpool to Bombay ; making just forty days for the whole trip. This could have been shortened by being but a day in England, and by going overland as they had hoped to. PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. 117 CHAPTER X. PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. BRANCH road was being completed on one of the great Indian railways. Among the engineers was a. half-caste. His face was dark and wild. He dressed in European style, but his clothes were ragged and vile. He smoked a pipe, instead of a hookah, or hubble- bubble, such as the natives used. His hut was like a Euro- pean hovel, more than a native house. He kept a huge English mastiff, and was very proud of the fact that he was not wholly a Hindu. He was foreman over five hundred coolies, who were slowly accomplishing the construction of the road. A fiercer man was not to be found ; and, as the Gov- ernment usually upheld its subordinates, the half-caste foreman was feared, above even their gods, by the poor cooly men and women who worked on his division of the road : hence he was all the more valuable as a foreman. So his employers thought. No one dared venture very near his hut, but left him to his own doings, undisturbed by prying eyes, whenever he chose to remain at home ; for the mastiff was even fiercer than his master. He lived with a half-caste sister, but little more agreeable than himself, and with his old Hindu mother. She was a witch now, and made a fortune for herself in telling the fortunes of others, while she made every one shudder who ever came within the charmed line of her shadow. Her eyes were sharp, very sharp ; and the eyebrows grew in Il8 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. bristles over them. Her forehead receded, only touched by straggling locks of draggling white hair. Her nose was hooked and long ; and, as all her teeth were gone, her lips fell in. Her chin was hooked and long, and over her mouth it almost touched her nose. On her chin g^rew a coarse bristling beard, that stood out an inch and more, like the quills on a por- cupine. Many were the reports, among the poor workers on the road, that this foreman and his witch of a mother were very rich, — ■ that they had gold and silver buried in many a secret spot in India. But every one knew that in all India there was no one more ready to do any thing, no matter what it was, to make more money. It was for that reason that the old woman made herself so unutterably horrible to look at, and went about as a witch and a fortune-teller. When her two children were born, she was one of the most beau- tiful dancing-girls in the land ; but now the beauty was gone, and she turned the scales, and still made a good living, only it was out of her ugliness. For over a month there had been another member in the little family, — not a demon, like the rest, but a strange little being, as unlike them as sunshine and night, with a deli- cate little body, and a pale little face, and large blue eyes, and long brown and curling hair ; with a skin as fair as the cream lily, and clothes as ragged as those of the half-caste. It was little Paul Clayton ; though who Paul Clayton was, the little fellow with blue eyes and brown hair could not have told. He did not remember any such child as Paul Clayton. He did not remember such a place as Beverly. He had only a very strange feeling, that grew stronger every day, that all was not just right, that the people about him were not true, and that he was not just what they told him. He had PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. Hg been very ill : he knew that ; and every thing seemed so dif- ferent from the pictures he remembered, as though they were the wandering dreams that had then flitted through his head, that he could not tell now whether any thing that he seemed to remember was real, or only some part of those dreams. He even supposed he had forgotten how to talk. His thoughts seemed to come in real words ; but they were so confused, that he could not put th ~ n straight, and, when he spoke aloud, it was not in the same way that he thought. In reality, he was speaking in Hindustani, and thinking in English, and doing neither one perfectly. Many a time, as he sat silently on the floor of the hut, — the only real thing that he was at all sure of, — he would try to grasp something that was only half-tangible in his mind, and come at last to the conclusion that he was still in that strange dream from which they told him he had wak- ened, and he would try to shake himself and wake himself, to find out where he really was, and what he was. All the conversation that Paul heard was in Hindustani : it sounded strange to him, yet he generally understood what was said ; and it seemed as though he had always heard it, yet as though he had never heard it before in his life. Every thing was so strange, so unreal, that, in a sort of stupor, day after day went by, till, in despair, he at last gave up trying to understand the half-idea of something very happy and pleasant, and so different from any thing about him, that ever and again would seem to come like a shadow before him, and then vanish as he turned to look at it. He did not remember how Roderick Dennett had worked for over five weeks, on the steamer, to teach him to speak Hin- dustani. He did not remember Roderick Dennett at all, I20 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. or the steamer, except as a part of that dream that he had during his sickness, when he had seemed to be something beside the beggar-boy, who would have starved to death over and over again had it not been for the kindness of the old Hindu woman, and her son and daughter. That was what they told him ; and, as he had nothing else to believe, he tried to believe them. And he tried to be grateful, and not shudder and tremble every time they came near him. He longed for some one whom he could love, to whom he could fly for safety ; but he looked and thought and wondered in vain. There was no one, absolutely no one, to whom he could turn. It was only one of the fancies of his dream that seemed to speak to him of some one. Every time he slept he dreamed it over again, and every time he woke he became more sure that it was only a dream ; but there was just one thing that drew the past back to a reality, in spite of every thing : it was his long brown hair. It was never combed now, and lay in a tangled mat on his head ; but, when a stray curl fell over his forehead and eyes, he seemed to see that something more clearly. He seemed to feel a loviner hand — a hand as white as his own — caress- ing the little curl ; and over and over again he would pull a lock down over his forehead, and laugh with himself as he looked at it, and felt so happy when his little heart was thrilled by the touch of that vanished hand. The old witch caught him in this way more than once ; and it was against her liking to see any one laughing. Being herself deprived of all that she had once considered happiness, she was bent on depriving every one else in the same way, and determined to make that hair so short that the boy could not see it. PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. 12 1 She called him outdoors, and seated herself on a rough stool. This in itself was an awkward thingf for her to do, for, like all Hindu women, she was accustomed to sit on the floor ; but she wanted to reach the boy's head, and be in a position to carry her point, in case of struggle. No sooner was she well seated, with little Paul before her, than she made a dive for his head, and, grasping a handful of his hair roughly with her left hand, flourished a long pair of shears in the other, and, with a fiendish grin, said, — " Now, then ! we'll have this off before you have a chance to laugh yourself dead through it." With a shriek of fear, Paul seized the little lock that fell over his eyes, and passionately clung to it with trembling hands. The old hag only struck him over the knuckles, and, with a hollow laugh, began her work. Zip, zip, zip ! went those iron shears, pulling his hair at every cut, and each time wringing a cry from his very heart. And all the time the little hands were clasped more closely over that sacred lock. The back hair was almost gone, and in a moment more there would have been a struggle over the rest, when round the corner came the half-caste foreman, his pipe in his mouth, and his pants rolled up to his thighs. Paul had had very little to do with him, and had little hope of mercy from him ; still he was determined that that lock of hair, through which he could see the picture that seemed so real, of a happiness that now he could not even fully comprehend, should never be torn from him if any thing could prevent it. A defiant fire flashed from his blue eyes as he looked up 122 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. at the half-caste foreman, but they fell again to the ground ; and poor little Paul began to tremble, for a fiercer face few have ever seen or imagined. The eyes started from their sockets, the teeth 1.1 „, ,,il,|l|llllliilT.,,., shone fiendishly white through the black lips and beard. " What are you at, withered hag ? " he cried furiously. " At my trade. The hair's worth a pound in the mar- ket," she replied, though she loosed her rude grasp ; and Paul gave a sigh of relief, but did not drop the sacred little lock. " Haven't I sworn to the hairs of his head ? " he asked. " They'll grow again fast enough," And ao-ain she laid her hand on ■■-'-ElI^K Jc PAUL AND THE HAG replied the old woman. . ...^ .v^, Paul's hair, when her son darted forward. " Drop it ! " he exclaimed ; and instantly the withered hand fell again. PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. 123 " You're in a good mood to-day," she returned with a sneer. " I'll give my hairy chin but you've lost the worth of your pipe full of tobacco at some game or other." " That I have," he replied. "There are men on the track of the kid there. They are already in Bombay. They have an eye, along the new line, for Dennett's old engineering friends." " Ugh ! " exclaimed the old woman, springing to her feet, and brushing the hair she was to sell for a pound in the market on to the earth, where she fiercely trod on it with her foot. " May their mouths be filled with dirt ! " she cried. " May they be defiled, and the mothers that bore them ! May the worms eat them, and the beggars spit upon their beards ! " " Che, che ! " said the foreman fiercely. " Your curses are all very well to frighten these nunnies about here ; but don't think that your tongue will drive off the English offi- cers, if they come looking for the kid." " Come here ? " the old woman howled. " The wind will be in their bones before they see the second wall. May their eyes blister, and their tongues rot in their mouths ! Never, never ! Curse the kid ! Never shall they come into this palace of " — " Che, che ! Keep your vile tongue to the beggars about you. I've a better plan. If I go down, Dennett goes with me," muttered the foreman. " He'll know it before dark to- night. And, if he kicks and runs his luck, I'll show myself, and offer to redeem the boy for a good ransom." The old woman began to chuckle way down in her throat ; and Paul looked up suddenly, thinking she must be ill. She was only laughing. She turned upon him as though she had forgotten him. 124 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. " Did you take in what that beast of a brute said to me ? " she asked fiercely. Paul started and trembled. He had not exactly taken in what had been said, though he had comprehended that in some way it referred to him, and it seemed to open his eyes a little to what was going on ; though how, or what it really was that he began to comprehend, he could not tell. He had no idea of telling the old hag a lie, for instinctively a lie would have been impossible to him ; but in utter fear and misery he looked at her with a bewildered stare, and shook his head. " Guzzle the kid with your fury, and scare him out o' his wits, as though 'twould bring the truth out o' him ! " shouted the half-caste. " But no fear : he's idiotic as an ape. Den- nett took his senses away for everlasting, I'm thinking, in that long pull he gave him with opium, and the like." "How is it we're to get rid of him for the time?" asked the old woman. " Dhondaram will take him," replied the foreman, grinning. " I gave him a hundred rupees this morning, and promised him as much more when the kid was well placed. I've sent to Dennett for fifty, for doing the same thing." "You're well for a turn, well for a turn," muttered the old woman. " A cursed compliment. I came by it honestly," he replied, lighting his pipe again. " But do you put on the kid's good clothes, — not the dashedest ones in the box, but common good, — and make a bundle of some more. Don't you go to skimming the chest, and putting the cream under your own straw pile, — for, mind you, Dennett's sharper'n the sharpest, and he'd know, — but give the bundle and the kid to sister, PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. 1 25 when she goes to show her pretty face in the bazaar to-night. On the Boomal corner, by the well, and at the old Trimmal's fruit-booth, she'll see Dhondaram in holy contemplation. Let her send the kid to get some fruit, leave the bundle at Dhondaram's feet, and scatter herself so fine through that bazaar that there'll be no finding her." "But suppose the young'n won't leave her," muttered the old woman as she turned toward the hut. The half-caste gave a hoarse laugh, and shouted, " Never you fear ! If he's got sconce enough to draw breath when he can't help it, he'll know better than to stick to you or yours any longer'n he's obliged to." The old woman went into the house. The half-caste sat down upon the stool. He always sat upon a stool ; for he would not have any one think he was a Hindu, and could sit upon the ground. He took the little trembling, half- stupefied boy on his knee, and almost tenderly he asked, — "Well, my lad, would you like to go away?" Paul nodded. He had comprehended much more than they thought, and, as the foreman had said, was not anxious to remain longer where he was. Any thing would be better than that ; and yet he did not fully understand what it was to go away. The rough man stroked his head for a moment ; then, with a sigh, he set him down, and went into the hut, from which the old woman soon issued, ready to dress the boy as her son had directed. It was a strange sensation that came over Paul as he put on the pretty and clean suit of boy's clothes. It was like the breaking out of the sunshine on an April eveniYig, when, just before it sets, the sun pierces the rich auburn clouds that 126 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. have been pouring down rain all day long. You may be in the house where you cannot see the sunshine ; yet you know instinctively that the storm has broken, and that the cheerful light is again brightening every thing, and you feel happier for it. You cannot help it. Paul could not tell what made him happy. He could not tell why the pretty clothes were so much more real to him than the rags had been. He could not tell any thing, but that he was happier. He knew he was happier ; but he dared not laugh, lest the old woman should take them away again. He thought of the name " Dhondaram." It was some one who was to take care of him ; and instinctively he associated the new clothes and the delightful memories that they seemed to awaken, and the happiness in his heart, all with that name, and the man who bore it ; and already he began to long for the time to come when he was to start for the bazaar with the foreman's sister. Then he wondered what the bazaar was. He had never been a dozen rods from that hut in his life, so far as he knew. But he did not care what it all looked like, if Dhondaram were only there. The moon was already shining when the sun set ; and he was soon taken by the young woman, and led away. Every thing was very new to Paul in the busy streets that they soon reached, and the old ways down which they wandered ; and yet he seemed to half-remember having seen it all before. He wondered if he were still dreaming. The men did not wear hats and clothes, like the foreman ; but many of them were naked to the waist, at least, and had only a light strip of cloth twisted about their legs as low down as the knees. Some had loose cloaks hanging over their shoulders, bound round the waist by a girdle, and falling in PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. 127 a sort of skirt over the legs to the knees. They all wore cloth twisted in different shapes about their heads, instead of hats. The women were dressed in all sorts of fashions : some had light shawls all over them, with only one eye showing between the folds ; and some were almost naked. Many of them had silver rings on their ankles, and many more on their arms. Some had rings in their noses, and large rings in their ears ; and they all had silver rings all over their fingers and thumbs and toes, and colored glass rings on their arms. Long before Paul began to grow tired, they had reached a corner by a well, and a half-naked native sitting behind some baskets filled with fruit. Right at the corner a very tall man was standing, all absorbed in thought. The young woman who was leading Paul stopped for an instant, and, without looking at the man, laid the bundle down at his feet, and went on a little way. Instinctively Paul seemed to know what it meant. He could not explain it, for the picture, more than the words, had been left upon his mind ; but he was happier than he ever remembered having been before, and was not at all surprised when the woman told him to go to the fruit-vender, and ask him the price of some melons beside him. Paul hesitated an instant at the last moment. It was breaking away from all that he knew any thing about in the world. He understood perfectly that he was not coming back again, and that he was to go away with the solemn man standing at the corner. He turned, and looked at him. There was something almost gentle in his face. It was very different, at least, from the faces that he already knew ; and 128 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. then the new clothes, and all the happiness ! Little Paul left the woman, as she had bidden him ; but, instead of going and asking the price of the melons, he went straight to the DHONDARAM. side of the tall Hindu, and, extending his little white hand, he said, in broken Hindustani, — " Here I am, Dhondaram, to go away with you." The muni started, frowned for an instant, and looked down at the tiny figure. But Paul had not been mistaken : little hearts rarely are in this world. No sooner did the muni's PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. 1 29 black eyes rest on the large blue ones turned up to him, and on the gold-brown hair, and the pale cheeks, and little extended hand, than the frown melted, and all that gentle- ness that Paul had detected came back again. Dhondaram's plans for taking the boy were thoroughly turned upside down by Paul's greeting. It was that that had caused the frown ; but, making the best of matters as they were, he took the little hand in his, and, picking up the bundle, said, — " Very well. We will go." And they started off together. For a while Dhondaram seemed to take no more notice of Paul. He almost thought he had forgotten him, and clung a, little closer to his hand. The motion attracted the muni's attention ; and, looking down, he said almost gently, — " You are tired. I will carry you." Paul did not understand precisely what he meant ; but when the strong arm was about him, and he was lifted to the broad shoulder, he felt happier and safer, and put one arm around the muni's neck, — an action that pleased him much more than the gold he received from the half-caste. They turned, very soon, out of the lighted street and into darker alleys ; and Paul clung the closer to Dhondaram. He walked on now with rapid strides, and very soon approached a low doorway, where three women, dressed almost like men, were sitting and talking. They wore jewels ; but they were evidently working-women, for two of them had baskets, in which they had been carrying something. " Fie on you, daughters of Kali ! to be out here hatching mischief at this hour. Go to your homes, and let Gunga come in and get me some supper," said Dhondaram. " Gunga can go, if she will, at the beck of a monster like I^o OUR BOYS IN INDIA. you, who knows neither Kah nor Siva, and worships but Krishna," retorted one of the women; "but, as for us, we will neither leave this spot for you, nor a host just like you." But Gunga rose ; and, turning to the others with a laugh, she said, — " Good-night till the morning, we'll meet in the temple ; " and followed Dhondaram. " Gunga knows who turns her gki to gold," muttered one of the women so loud that all could hear ; but Gunga made no reply, and soon had conducted the muni to a little room that she occupied, with screens here and there, dividing the cooking and sleeping apartments. " What have you on your back ? " asked Gunga, as she lighted a little wick, floating in oil in a cocoanut-shell, and turned to prepare some supper. " A feringhi," replied Dhondaram. " A feringhi ! " she exclaimed, and turned suddenly to look at little Paul, who now rested on the muni's knee, as he sat on the floor. But a sweet smile broke over Gunga's face as she looked down into the tired blue eyes. She gently touched the soft cheek ; and then, with a quizzical smile at Dhondaram, she said, "There must be a gold lining here, or the holy Dhondaram would be defiled." " It is only a child," muttered Dhondaram, " and none of your business at the best. Get us some supper, and give us a bed for the night. Did ever you hear of a Feringhi Dennett? Roderick Dennett? Well, if ever you do, keep your eye on him, Gunga, and send me word, and till then keep your peace." "That I will, as I have often done for you before," said Gunga merrily ; and she began to sing a temple-song as she DAUGHTERS OF KALI. 132 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. moved about behind one of the screens : for she was a sort of priestess in a Hindu temple, — a murh girl, — whose duty it was to dance and sing during a part of the service, and in her basket she had carried flowers to throw about the altar. The food which Gunga set before them was of the very simplest kind, — only a dry meal-cake and cups of milk ; but Paul was hungry, and thought it far better than any thing he had ever before tasted. On the whole, he was well sat- isfied with the change, and would not have gone back again for any thing. After supper Gunga threw a coarse mat on the floor ; and turning half toward Paul, whose eyes were very heavy, she said, — "The little feringhi can have a mat yonder, between me and my little sister Prita, who is already sound asleep, if he would like it. It is a softer, better place than this." Paul looked at Dhondaram, who bowed his head in assent ; then he extended his arms to Gunga, who stood ready to take him upon her shoulder, as though he were light as a feather, though she herself seemed to him but a little girl. She kissed his cheek softly, as she carried him behind another screen, and there laid him carefully upon a rug on the floor, giving him her arm for a pillow, where he fell asleep before he had hardly time to realize how happy and comfortable he was. Before daylight he was awakened by the little sister Prita, who was kneeling beside him, kissing his hand. "You are a very pretty little Ingrij," she said. "Can you understand what I say ? " Paul rubbed his eyes, and answered, " Yes." 134 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. "Where did you learn to talk like me?" asked the girl. Paul wondered where, and rubbed his eyes again ; for it suddenly seemed to him that he had not always talked like that. " You must get up, and let me wash you, and comb your hair ; for you must eat breakfast soon, and go away," she added sadly. " I don't want to go away," sobbed Paul. But he got up ; and the little g-irl beran to bathe him as he had never been bathed before, so far as he could remember. She gathered" up all the mats, and left only the smooth stone floor. Then she brought a jug of water, somewhat like a kuja, only larger, and, after taking off his clothes, began turning it over him, a little at a time, and rubbing him gently with her soft hand. Then she wiped him, rubbed his body with something that smelled so nice he thought he would like to drink it, and then dressed him, and carefully combed his hair. " I'm very sure I don't want to have you go," she said ; " but we must do as Dhondaram says, and perhaps he will bring you back again. If I w^ere only a little older, so that I could go to the temple too, it would be better. But Dhondaram is very kind. He will never hurt you. Were you born in England? How long have you been in India?" Little Prita chatted on, because Paul did not seem in- clined to answer ; and she forgot one question as soon as she had put it, and began another. But Paul did not forget them. They set him thinking, and thinking so hard that he had no time to a.nswer. It had never occurred to him that he must have been born somewhere ; and the more he won- dered, the more confused he became. But the thinkine was t_> sure to amount to somethino- in time. PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. 135 They had rice and milk for breakfast ; and, comforted by Dhondaram's promise that he should surely come back again, Paul once more mounted the broad shoulder, and left the little room and the low arched doorway, and, after a short walk, came out upon a broad river. There were very few people to be seen till they came out upon the river-bank ; for it was only the gray dusk before dawning, and the sky in the . east was just turning red for the sunrise. Dhondaram wanted to get away without at- tracting attention, for he realized that he had undertaken a very difficult task. He could get the best of any Hindu or Mussulman that lived. He had often tried it, and always succeeded. The half-caste foreman had selected him to help him out of his difficulty, as the man of all men who was able to do it. But to carry his point against the English police, when to do it he had got to keep a little white boy out of their hands, was quite another undertaking. It had taken more than a hundred rupees from the foreman to induce Dhondaram to attempt it. The foreman had not dared to tell his mother it had cost him over a thousand rupees to get out of the fraud into which Roderick Dennett had drawn him. And he himself was ignorant of the fact that it was not at all his gift of a thousand rupees, and promise of as much more, but something entirely outside of that, that had induced the Hindu muni, Dhondaram, to undertake the difficult en- gagement. There was a score of boatmen on the river-bank when they reached it. Some were cooking their breakfast, some eating it. All were preparing for a fresh start, for boatmen will not sail at night in India unless it is absolutely necessary. There are several reasons for it. The Hindu rivers are 136 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. very hard to navigate, and the Hindus very superstitious. Beside this, they are never in a hurry. If time and tide will not wait for them, they are satisfied to let time and tide go on without them. Paul was a little frightened at the sight of the rugged, almost naked boatmen, with their smoothly shaven heads, where only a little tuft of hair was left on the very top. That tuft was never cut at all, but twisted up in a little knot. They were singing and shouting and praying and eating and cooking in a terrible confusion ; but when Paul looked down at the man upon whose shoulder he sat, to find him taller and stronger than any of them, and when he saw how those rough boatmen knelt and touched their foreheads to the ground as he and the muni passed them, he lost his fear, and only realized a still greater confidence in Dhondaram. " What is this water ? " Paul asked, as Dhondaram was preparing to take him on to a boat that seemed to be ready for them. " It is the sacred Ganges," replied the muni solemnly, set- ting Paul down on the bank for a moment, and making an humble obeisance to the river. " It flows directly out of the mouth of the incomprehensible Bramha," he added ; and Paul drew a long breath, and tried to understand it. The sun was just rising as they passed the city proper, at the outskirts of which they had embarked. The boat in which they sailed was a curious contrivance. Paul was sure he had never seen a boat before ; yet as they pushed off from shore, and began to rise and fall on the little waves, there was something so natural, that again and again he looked out of the little window and over the dancing ripples, as though he could almost see something there, almost hear PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. "^Zl some one speak to him, almost discover something that he had begun very seriously to long to know. There was one mast to their boat, and a huge triangular sail attached to it. There was a little house with curious doors and windows in the stern ; and there they were destined to eat and sleep for many days, while slowly making their way up the Gan- ges and one of its branches, stopping every night by the bank till the morn- ing. As they passed along the border of the city, the boats became very numerous in the river ; and Dhon- daram drew the blinds, or bamboo awnings, before the window where Paul sat. It did not a curious, contrivance. prevent his looking out, however. There were beautiful towers rising up almost from the water's edge. But, when they had passed the city, they seemed once more to sink into the mists, that there had not fully risen from the river. Once more Dhondaram opened the bamboo blinds ; and, leaning out of the window, Paul watched the water splash- iss OUR BOYS IN INDIA. ing ag-ainst the boat, till suddenly his attention was drawn to strange figures along the bank, just discernible in the mists, moving slowly up and down, or lying still in hideous piles. CROCODILES. " What are they ? " he asked, eagerly pointing toward the shore. "Crocodiles," muttered Dhondaram ; and, with a peculiar smile, he added, " They are very sacred animals. We make sacrifices to them ; and sometimes little children are thrown into the water, for those crocodiles to eat them up." PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. too Paul started, turned pale, trembled a little, and looked up into Dhondaram's face. The muni looked quietly into the blue eyes for an instant ; then, with scarcely a perceptible change of countenance, he lifted his hand, and stroked the golden-brown hair. Paul nestled closer to him. He was not afraid of being thrown to the crocodiles. Oh, no ! — not so long- as Dhondaram was near. I40 • OUR BOYS IN INDIA, CHAPTER XI. WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER, AND A HINDU FEAST. P the sacred Ganges and one of its great tributaries they sailed ; and it seemed to Paul that they must be going a long way off from everywhere, especially from the city where the little Gunga and her tiny sister Prita lived. He did not know the name of it : but he grew brighter and clearer in his mind each day, and comprehended more of what he saw ; and, to his own sur- prise, he seemed to understand a great many new things without asking. He had learned, too, the way to the stern heart of the muni, and had not the least fear of Dhondaram. When he awoke in the morning, and found him out on the river-bank, engaged in a sort of fierce devotion, his eyes flashing, his body writhing about in terrible contortions, while he placed fire in his open palms, and cut his flesh with little knives, Paul would go right up to him, and, putting his arms fearlessly about his neck, would kiss him, and cry, " Stop, stop ! don't do that ! " while the boatmen, who would as soon have had a hand cut off as to have disturbed him, would look on in horror, till they found that the frown disappeared, instead of gathering deeper on the dark brow of Dhon- daram, and that, taking the child in his arms, he would go back to the boat, to wait till some other time to finish his terrible devotions. The water of the river was very yellow with mud as they WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. 141 went up, and every day they passed bodies of dead animals that were floating down ; yet at every httle village that they passed, and at every encampment, there were many people bathing in the water, especially at sunrise in the morning. And while they bathed they prayed, and threw the water over 'THEY ARE COMING TO BATHE THE IDOL.' their faces. " They think it sacred. They believe they are washing their sins away," said Dhondaram. One morning, just after they had started for the day, they heard a loud noise of singing and shouting on the banks, beyond a little jungle ahead of them. Dhondaram drew the awnings over the windows, and sat on the floor by the side of Paul. Soon they passed the cause of the noise. In 142 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. the lead was a band of girls, whirling about each other, sing- ing and dancing, with soft, white cloth wound gracefully about them, and garlands of flowers upon their necks and round their waists. Behind them came Bramhan priests, shouting, and waving heavy wands in the air, and bearing an image on a litter. "What is the matter, Dhondaram ? " asked Paul, alarmed more at the serious face of his protector than at any danger he could conceive of from the happy throng upon the bank. " They are bringing the god of the temple down, to bathe it in the Ganges. If the boatmen say I am a muni, they will stop us, and I shall have to help them. But we must not stop : we cannot. If I stop, I shall tell the boatmen to go on with you." Paul caught Dhondaram's hand, and shook his head. The muni smiled, and continued, — " You shall not fear, for it will only be for an hour. I shall hurry up the river, and meet you. But they will not stop us," he added, as the boat was pulled past the point where the murlis, or dancing-girls, were approaching the river, and no one paid it any attention. They made slow progress up the river, especially when the wind was against them, so that they could not use the sail, or the current ran fast. Then the boatmen were obliged to take the oars, which they did not fancy, and some- times even to take a long rope, and go on shore with it, walking along the bank, and pulling the boat after them, which they disliked still more. And the worst of all was when the banks were so covered with jungle, or forest-growth, to the very water's edge, that the only way they could do was to start on in a little boat with the rope, and, fastening it to a WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. 1 43 tree as far ahead as was possible, draw the large boat up to it, and then go on again. When they came to anchor at night, Paul would run and play upon the sand, while the boatmen built a fire, and Dhon- daram, with his own hands, prepared the supper. Like the breakfast, it consisted of a simple preparation of rice, made hot with something like mustard, that they called curry, pre- pared from several kinds of green leaves and spices mashed, and ground to a soft pulp between two stones. With this they had fruit, — -bananas, plantain, dates, tamarinds, pome- granates, and, best of all, sweet limes as large as oranges, of which Paul was very fond. He made an exclamation of delight the first time that he tasted them, and from that day there was always a bamboo tray of sweet limes lying on the floor of the little cabin. When there was a jungle near their stopping-place, Dhon- daram always warned Paul not to go near it ; and even Paul noticed, that, wherever he went, and no matter what the tall, grim muni was doing, he never looked back without finding his two piercing black eyes fixed upon him. The old witch used to watch him in that way, and it made him tremble ; but he only felt the safer now, to know that he was not for a moment out of the sight of his friend. Richard Raymond would have shuddered had he known, Scott would have trembled could he have been told, that little Paul was laugh- ing in the face of the terrible Dhondaram. Once when he had wandered too near to a jungle, Dhon- daram hurried toward him, and, catching him in his arms, went back to the boat with him. "There are ugly tigers in there," he muttered. "You do not want to meet one of them." 144 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. "Why not?" asked Paul. "They would kill you," replied the muni. "What would that matter?" asked Paul, very little under- standing what it was to be killed, or what he was saying, and yet half realizing after all. The muni looked at him silently for a moment. Then, brushing a tear from his eyes, he said huskily, " Your little lips have kissed Dhondaram. You neither hate nor fear him." " No, indeed, I am not afraid of you ! " exclaimed Paul, throwing his arms around the muni's neck, and kissing him again. " And I shall never be killed while you take care of me." Dhondaram looked about him hurriedly, to be sure that none of the boatmen saw. One night they had eaten their supper, and were at anchor a little way out in the stream ; for the current was slow, and the jungles were close upon the bank. The boat- men had usually built fires at night, to keep the wild beasts from coming to the water near where they were anchored ; but there were villages within sight of the boat to-night, and Dhondaram did not want to attract the attention of the villagers, who would be sure to come down and make them a call. So they only pushed out farther than usual ; and the sun went down, and the moon rose, and the boatmen lay stretched over the deck, sound asleep. Paul had been asleep, but was wakened by Dhondaram, who was praying, and fiercely beating himself. Getting up from his mat, Paul went to the muni, but had hardly reached his side, when from the distant bank there sounded a shrieking whistle. Dhondaram started to his feet. He listened intently for a moment. There WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. H5 was a sharp cracking and swaying of the branches on the other side of the river, that there was not a quarter of a mile wide. Some large body was forcing its way through at no easy pace. Suddenly the muni disappeared in the cabin, THE MAD ELEPHANT. but re-appeared in a moment, carrying a bundle. Paul had not time to ask what it was ; for his eyes were fixed on a huge, dingy form that loomed up on the opposite bank. " It is only an elephant," said Paul, who had seen them carrying burdens along the river-bank. 146 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. " A mad elephant," muttered Dhondaram, watching him intently. "What makes him mad?" asked Paul. " I don't know. But he is alone, and a wild elephant never goes alone unless he's mad. Ha ! " he exclaimed, as the huge elephant seemed to have noticed them, and at once dashed into the water, and began to swim rapidly toward the boat. " Not yet, not yet," muttered Dhondaram, catching Paul in his arms, and setting him on his shoulder, while he bal- anced the bundle on his head. "It is not written in Dhon- daram's forehead that he die at the will of a wild elephant, or a tame one either." And with his burden he slipped silently over the edge of the boat, away from the approaching animal. Fortunately, being able to wade, he moved rapidly toward the shore. When the bank was almost gained, and the water not more than waist deep, a sudden splash sounded a little way up the river ; and Paul, whose eyes had been fixed on the approaching elephant, turned with a cry of fear to see the great glistening jaws of a crocodile opened wide, less than ten feet away. But Dhondaram was strong and supple. His lithe body sank into the water to the shoulder. Then he sprang forward. The lumbering crocodile swung about, and his great jaws came together with a resounding click that would have made a stronger heart than little Paul's stand still. The maddened creature turned about, and opened the horrible jaws again ; but Dhondaram had gained on him. In a moment more he was bounding along the bank, now with a foot in the water where the trees crowded him, now flying like the wind on the sand. But the signal had been given ; and all up and down the river, with many a WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. 1 47 grunt and snort, they heard the sleeping crocodiles awaking, and swinging their heads back, to open the terrible mouths ready to close like a vice on any thing that might fall into them. But holding Paul firmly on his shoulder, and the bundle on his head, without a sound the Hindu bounded on, seeming hardly to touch the earth, resting his foot for an instant against the very nose of a crocodile, to be ten feet away before the animal could close his glistening rows of savage teeth. Then there was a terrible splashing and crashing behind them ; and, looking back over the moonlit water, Paul could see the boat flying into a thousand pieces under the wrath of the mad elephant, and hear the cries and groans of the boat- men, suddenly aroused from sleep to find themselves doomed to death. And the little hands clasped the muni's neck more closely, as Paul realized the terror from which he had saved him. They were well away from the river, and in a broad, open plain, before the muni paused, and, looking cautiously about him to assure himself that there was no other danger at hand, laid his burden tenderly down, and asked, — "Has the little feringhi had a pleasant ride?" "The poor boat Wallahs! They are all dead," replied Paul, thinking of the boatmen. " It was written in their foreheads," said Dhondaram in- differently, "but not in mine." " But if you had staid there you would have been dead too," said Paul, with a logic so simple, that the greatest theo- logians are only just finding out how full of force it is. " But I did not stay," replied the muni. And, after waiting a moment to gather strength and breath, he untied the package. 148 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. which Paul now saw contained his bundle of clothes and a bamboo sack of sweet limes. Giving the boy two of the sweet limes, he replaced the bundle on his head ; and, taking Paul aeain on his shoulder, he said, — " You can eat those to keep you awake when you are sleepy. We have a long way to go. We should have reached THE LONG ROAD. the end of our journey to-morrow night. Now we must reach it to-morrow morning instead, for there are two villages that we must go past before daylight." So they started on ; and all night long the muni kept at a steady, rapid pace, never flinching or swerving from the track that he seemed to be as sure of as though it were his home. Before the sun had risen, they passed the last of the villages WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. 149 that Dhondaram wanted to avoid. But the people were already engaged at the morning worship, and were lying on their faces, falling on their knees, beating their foreheads to the ground, and crying and howling before a rude little temple, where Paul could just discern a hideous image, that THE GODDESS KALI. reminded him so much of the old witch, that instinctively he tried to shrink away from it. "What is it?" he asked timidly. "The goddess Kali, the wife of the great Siva, — the powerful Mother of Destruction. She kills every thing." " How do they dare to be so near, and pray to her ? " asked Paul again. " They are praying to her to keep away from them," replied I50 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. the muni, smiling in a peculiar way, as he pressed a little nearer to the jungle to escape observation. " Her hair touches the ground behind her. She has three red eyes. Her lips and tongue are dripping with blood. She has dead bodies for rings in her ears. Once she had only two arms ; but, when her husband was in trouble, she sacrificed an arm to save him, and now she has four. She is standing on the body of a god, and has the head of a mortal in her hand. Her girdle is made of the hands she has cut off from the arms of her enemies, and her necklace is skulls." " I would not pray to her," said Paul with a shiver. "You would, if praying would keep her away from you, I think," replied Dhondaram. "You do not pray to her, do you?" the child asked. " There are so many gods, that it is irhpossible to pray to all," said the muni. "How many gods are there?" asked Paul. " About three hundred and thirty millions," replied the muni, a smile of derision curling his lips again, for all the fact that he, too, was amone the humble devotees at the altars of those innumerable gods. "Why don't I pray, Dhondaram ? " the boy questioned, after vainly trying to gain any idea of how many three hundred and thirty millions might be. "You are an Ingrij," returned Dhondaram. "And what is that?" " You were not born in India. You are different." " Where was I born ? " " I do not know," replied the muni almost impatiently. " If I had been born here, should I pray as you do ? " " No : ' you are white." WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER, 151 " Does being white make me different ? " " No : being different makes you white." " I wish I were not different. I wish I were like you. Dhondaram." " But you would not be, if you knew me well. And you could not be, for it is not written in your forehead." " What is it that is written in your forehead ? " asked Paul, rubbing his little white hand over the furrowed brow of the dark Hindu. " Nothing good, nothing good. There is nothing good in Dhondaram," replied the muni with a shudder. " There is ! there is ! " cried the boy sharply. " Who wrote what is bad ? " " The God of Fate." "■ I will kill him when I am a man ! " said Paul fiercely. "Che! che ! " whispered the muni: "say it softly;" for, although he had smiled in derision, he was yet fearful that there might be some evil following such a remark. " Are there many people who are white ? " asked Paul. " Some," replied the muni briefly ; for he had been walking hard all night, and was not only tired, but very anxious. Little Paul did not dream how he, sitting so comfortably on that broad shoulder, was making the strong man tremble. They turned now along the river-bank ; and, in the gray mists that lay there just before morning, they saw little flicker- ing lamps floating down the stream. "What are they, Dhondaram?" cried Paul. " They seem like " — Paul almost said, " Fourth of July." It was on the very tip of his tongue ; and yet, when he stopped and wondered what it was that he was about to say, he could not remember. Some happy thought had flashed before his mind : he was sure 152 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. of it. He laughed even then under the bright influence ; but what it was, was Hke all. the rest, — hidden just beyond his reach. " It must have been some dream," he said to himself, as Dhondaram replied, — " Those lamps are offerings to the river, by the women of the city just above. They are little wicks floating in oil, in wooden boats." But Paul cared less about the boats than the problem he was solving concerning himself. And as they turned down a broad avenue lined with magnificent palms, and with beautiful flowers in an endless profusion everywhere, he began again, — "Are there many white people, Dhondaram?" " A few," replied the muni, -hardly knowing what he said ; for the city was yet two miles ahead, and the sun was almost rising. "I never" — Paul hesitated. He was about to say that he never had seen any, when it suddenly seemed to him as though he had seen many. " Do they live far from here? " he asked. "White people live everywhere," said Dhondaram with a frown ; for far in the distance he saw several people coming down the way from the city. And the domes and minarets were now plainly visible through the trees, a half-mile away. He began to realize, that, after all his struggle, it would be impossible to get into the gate, and down the by-ways, where he knew many a hiding-place, without attracting attention to the little boy upon his shoulder. Paul's questions about white people added to this fear ; for, in truth, he knew that there were many white people living in the city. Just then an owl gave a farewell hoot to the dying night, from his perch in a banyan-tree not far away, and an ass brayed in the field to the left. They were two omens that were the WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. 1^3 worst that could have been given to the anxious Hindu ; and while he waited for a moment, wondering if he had better disregard them and go on, a wild hare ran across the road in front of him. Had the voice of God sounded, telling him in so many words to go no farther with the child, he could not have been more sure. "What are you waiting for?" asked Paul. " I am thinking you must be tired," Dhondaram replied. "You have been riding all night. You shall not go into the city till evening. You shall stop at this house here and sleep, while I go in and find a good friend, where we will live for the present." " I would rather go with you, Dhondaram ! " exclaimed Paul, clinging to the muni's neck, and beginning to sob ; for he was very tired and sleepy, though he did not realize it. " I shall not go away at once, and I shall be back before long for you," said Dhondaram, turning boldly up toward a little hut that lay half hidden in the verdant jungle that bor- dered on the road. It was a beautiful little spot, and at the first sight Paul was delighted with the prospect of waiting there. Dhonda- ram set him upon the ground, and let him run beside him. The house was built in two separate parts. At the left stood the working-part, without any front wall, but a sort of booth arranged in front, as though the owner sold something- through the day ; and at the right was the sleeping-hut, with only one very small door and a very small window. Dhondaram approached the working-hut, but it was empty. There was nothing on the booth, and only the pots and kzcja standing behind, and a smouldering fire in a round 154 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. hole in the centre of the room. The family were evidently Hindus, judging from their pots and the arrangements of the hut ; and, seeing several empty tobacco bunniahs lying about, Dhondaram at once determined that the owner of the hut was a tobacconist. Knowledge is power. That is the muni's motto ; and, not IJATI\i, HIT to be wholly without knowledge, and seem too much like a stranger, Dhondaram called aloud, — "Ha! you biri wallah" (tobacco-dealer), "come out and show yourself if you are an honest man." A woman's head was thrust a little way out of the door of the other hut. "Who calls? There's nothing to sell to-day. Go on to the festival." But, seeing that it was a muni who spoke, she WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. I^c put her head a little farther out, and made an obeisance, put- ting her hands to her forehead. The muni returned her salaam, and, without waiting- for any further introduction, said, — " Look to what I tell you, mother of an evil-doer. It is ill that you bid one of the gods' selected to leave your house, and go his way. I want no purchasing from such as you, and I will go my way to the festival when it pleases me. Mark what I say : it is ill for you that I go without leaving you indebted to me for an opportunity, well accepted, to serve the Mother." Of all this the stupid woman understood as little as did Paul ; but she realized that she had offended a wandering muni, which is n-ot a very safe thing, for the poor at least, to do, and she hastened to reply, — " Ask what you will of me, and In the name of the Mother I will do it, and do it without pay." " Do it you will, and do it without pay ; and woe to you or any one who would not ! But that it may be the better done, if you do well I will pay you well." The woman touched her forehead to the ground. The muni continued, — "This little feringhi who is in my care has the Bramhanical blessing. He is weary, and before we enter the city he must rest. Give him the best you have, and let him sleep. I will lie and rest me in the shop, and later I will come for him." "We are not outcasts," said the woman, trembling; for she feared that she should lose caste or defile herself by tak- ing the little white boy into her dirty hut. Dhondaram was instantly angry, or appeared to be. He turned suddenly, and, with his back to the woman, he threw dust at her with his foot. 156 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. " Lower than the lowest ! viler than the vilest ! eat dirt and be defiled. Go hence a beggar. Thus saith a Bramhan of the Bramhans." It had the desired effect. The woman fell upon her face with a wail. " Let him come in. Let the feringhi have all and more than all. Come in and find the best, and give it him. Let me sit by him and keep ill from him while he sleeps. Let me be his slave, but keep thy curse." "I'll see how you perform yourself. Come out of the house. I will not defile myself by going in till you are out." Creeping on her knees, the woman came out of the low door ; and, leading Paul by the hand, Dhondaram entered. There were only two rooms, and very simple ; but he soon prepared a comfortable mat, and, assuring Paul that the woman would not dare to do any thing but the very best for him, he left him lying on the mat, with no ornament or piece of furniture to attract his attention (for there was nothing of the sort in the little room), and with several sweet limes to eat when he should wake up. The boy was so used to strange surroi ndings, that he hardly paid them any attention ; but before the voice of Dhondaram had ceased to sound, in conversation with the woman outside, he was fast asleep. Creeping in to see that all was vv^ell, the old woman crept out again to talk over the event with her nearest neighbor. There was to be a great festival in the city ; and the neigh- bor, owning two bullocks and a cart, was going to carry into the city all of his friends who could get on, to participate in the very holy festival and merry-making. The old woman's son, who kept the tobacco-booth, had already gone to the city, and she did not propose to be left out. WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. 157 Regardless of the promise she had made to the muni, and the boy who lay sleeping in her hut, she took the advice of her neighbor, and made herself ready to go in the cart. It came rattling to her door, with its two noisy wheels and no springs, the long pole resting on a sort of crossbar, that, in turn, rested on the necks of the two bullocks, just in front of a huge hump growing on the fore-shoulders of each, almost like the bump on a camel, and effectually doing away with the need of a yoke. Once more the old woman crept in, and looked at the child. Paul was soundly sleeping. Then again she crept out, got into the cart, and was gone. It was past noon when little Paul awoke, rubbed his eyes, sat erect, and wondered where he was. He had had so many strange impressions of late, that it was some time before out of them all he resolved the present, and was sure of what had happened just before he went to sleep. But there were the sweet limes, at least ; and he ate one of them while he waited for some one to appear. No one came ; and he got up and went out. Every thing was deserted. He called Dhondaram, but received no answer. He remembered that he had said he should go to the city, and the city was plainly in sight. He must be coming back by this time, Paul thought, NATIVE LAE,i 158 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. and at once made up his mind to go toward the city, and meet him. He put two sweet Hmes in his pocket, and began eating a third, for he was very hungry, and started on. On the way he met a httle naked Hindu boy with some bananas, and he gave him a sweet hme for two of them. Paul thought he had made a good trade, and the Hindu was sure that he had. The two bananas satisfied his hunger, and kept him busy till he was very near the gate of the city. Every thing was so strange and interesting to Paul, that he forgot about Dhondaram, and forgot about himself. He never thought of being alone, or of being afraid. It seemed more like one of the old dreams than any thing real ; and at last he reached the gate. Inside there was a dense crowd, but outside there were very few. It was a gloomy gray wall that surrounded the city, and a gloomy gateway. Inside he could see all sorts of bright costumes and bright colors, and hear the music and shouting, that betokened the happiness of every one engaged in the religious feast. It drew him like a magic spell. He was hurrying in, when his eye fell upon an old beggar sitting beside the gate, and a little boy close to him. Paul was not sufficiently versed to know by the dress and position what the old man was : indeed, he hardly looked at him a second time. But a cry of joy burst from his lips as he saw the boy beside him. In his own boy's heart he thought it the prettiest face he had ever seen. That tantalizing picture that had so often come almost into his mind, and then slipped away again, once more appeared ; and he seemed to half remember merry times that he had had somewhere, with merry children all about him. He ran across the road ; and, sitting down on the mat close to the little black-eyed, black- BZGGAR AND BOY. l6o OUR BOYS IN INDIA. haired boy, he touched a lock of the curHng hair with his dainty Httle white finger, and, looking into the child's face, in a spasm of joy he kissed the dark lips that were half open over the tiny white teeth. The child shrieked, and sprang upon the old man's knee, rubbing his lips furiously, to wipe away the kiss. Paul stepped back, and watched him doubtfully. " I didn't mean to scare you, little boy," he said apolo- getically. " But I don't believe I hurt you like that. My lips are not dirty, are they ? " he asked, suddenly remembering that he had been eating. He wiped his mouth carefully on his sleeve. " You can put mud on your mouth, and kiss me to pay, if you like. I'm sorry ; but I don't think I am like you, for I was made white." Paul had mingled some English words with his Hindu- stani without knowing it ; and at best the boy did not understand much Hindustani either, for there are many languages spoken in India. But he understood enough to know that it was an apology ; and, pouting, he slipped off the old man's knee again. Paul was disheartened, however, and was turning away, when he bethought him of the last sweet lime that remained in his pocket ; and as he took it out, and held it up, the boy's eyes brightened, and his little hand was extended instantly. " You like sweet limes better than you do kisses," said Paul a little sarcastically, as he turned away, and entered the gate. Throngs of people crowded the streets. Every one was talking and shouting. On almost any other day there would have been swearing and terrible cursing by people who were so used to it that they really did not know that they were «Su-, THE HINDU FEAST. 1 62 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. cursing at all. There would have been venders of all sorts of every thing, and every one would have been hurrying in his own way. But to-day was the great festival, and every one was good natured. No one seemed to notice little Paul, as he bent his steps this way and that, catching glimpses of pretty things that pleased him as he slowly worked his way toward where he heard the loudest music, intent upon reaching the spot if it took him all day : and it seemed very likely to ; for, if he had thought of it, the sun was sinking very low, and the air was growing red with the approaching sunset. Soon, however, the music helped him out by beginning to come toward him. There were huge elephants as far as the eye could reach, with magnificent golden howdaks, or cars, upon their backs ; and flags were flying, and priests, with all sorts of instruments, were making all sorts of noises ; and every- where the boys, and even the men too, were firing fire-crackers to make more noise. There was little in harmony ; and, as for the music, it was horrible, there is no doubt of it : but Paul had not an educated ear ; and the excitement was so new and grand to him, that, for a little time, he seemed in the seventh heaven. But the procession was very long, and the crowd was very rude, and little Paul was jostled about in every direction. The first of the long line of elephants was out of sight in one direction, and still there was no end to the line in the other. Some one stepped heavily upon Paul's foot. The pain brought tears to his eyes. He struggled to get out of the crowd. He wanted to go home, when it suddenly oc- curred to him that he had no home. He would go back to the place where Dhondaram had left him. But where was WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. 163 It ? He had no idea. And where was Dhondaram ? It came upon him, in all its force, that he had lost every thing, just at the moment that he had begun to have something worth keeping. What could he do ? He was too miserable to cry. It would only have clogged his throat, when he was choking already. While he was uncertainly yielding to every pressure of the crowd, not caring what became of him, he had been pushed nearer and nearer the path of the elephants ; and now, as he looked up, the gloomy shadow of one of those great blue-black creatures was right upon him, with all its be- spangling gold and silver, and beautifully embroidered blankets, ' and a little temple on its back, — all of glistening gold. The driver, with a pointed iron bar in his hand with which to guide the elephant, was sitting on his head, and saw Paul in the path. He shouted to him to get away : but Paul did not see or hear either the elephant or its driver ; for suddenly his eyes were riveted on the figure of a man, tall and broad-shouldered, towering above the other Bramhans, walking before the elephant, playing on a native instrument. " Dhondaram ! Dhondaram ! " cried Paul in a shrill voice ; and rushing before the elephant, whose great trunk must have struck him and knocked him down, had he not care- fully lifted it out of the child's way, Paul sprang into the arms of his muni friend. A sharp, bitter contortion distorted every feature of Dhon- daram's face, as he recognized his charge, and heard his own name shouted in that throng. He had made discoveries that had horrified him on reaching the city ; and, thanking Heaven that the boy was safe outside, he had bearded the lion in his den, and, to throw off suspicion, was marching i64 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. there in that procession, under the very eye of officials who were searching for him, when " Dhondaram ! " rang from the hps of the httle boy, and Paul leaped into his arms. For an instant the black eyes rested on the little figure. It was a moment when life and death were but a hair's breadth apart. He could drop the child there, and possibly escape alone. The arms relaxed. Whatever his original motive had been, in taking charge of Paul, it evidently would not stand this test. " Dhondaram ! Dhondaram ! " rang from a hundred voices in that crowd, as that magic name sounded, sending a thrill of fear into many a heart, and making many a coward quail. Paul did not even wonder why. In an instant that horde might fix upon him, and tear him in pieces. Dhondaram knew it well. It was growing dark. The procession had already begun to light torches here and there, and all was an uncertain mass in the con- flicting cross-lights. The momentary hush was simply because the crowd were waiting to know just where and which Dhon- daram was. The muni looked steadily into the large blue eyes. They were laughing and happy. In that instant the arm tightened ao-ain about the little fig-ure. " He is not afraid of me. He kissed Dhondaram ! " the muni muttered ; and, bending for- ward with his burden, he sprang under the elephant beside him just as a hand was laid upon his shoulder. All that Paul realized was that he was wrapped beneath the robe of his friend, who hurried one way and another. He was painfully crushed sometimes ; but he only realized that there was danger of some sort, and heroically ground the suffering between his little teeth without uttering a sound WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. 165 that might hinder his protector's escape, till finally the cries became more distant, and the pace of Dhondaram slower and more regular. When Paul opened his eyes again, through the folds of the priest's robe he saw that they were in a very narrow street, where all was dark, except for torches that were smoking on occasional booths, where there were people without any bright-colored clothes, and where there was no room for elephants. Sometimes a calf or a cow stood in the way, or a donkey with his burden almost filled the breadth of the path, and there was shouting and wrangling ; but no one was shouting the name of Dhon- daram now, and a moment later they turned into a still narrower alley, where the houses rose up above their heads till they seemed to touch the sky. Here hardly any one was passing, and there was very little noise. Here, too, Dhondaram walked still more slowly, and soon turned into a narrow doorway, and entered a small room opening from a court. There, with a sigh, he laid the burden down upon a coarse mat, lit a taper, and looked long and earnestly into the pale face and large blue eyes. A NARROW STREET. 1 66 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. " The little Ingrij was frightened," he said, gently touch- ing the golden-brown hair. " I was frightened till I found you, Dhondaram, and now I am hungry," said Paul, sitting up, and patting the dark hand. Dhondaram hurried out, locking the door behind him ; but in a moment he was back again with rice, cakes, and milk, and Paul noticed that his little bundle of clothes and the bag of sweet limes were already in the room. SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 167 CHAPTER XII. SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OP INDIA. was growing dark when the steamer on which Scott Clayton and Richard Raymond had so long been passengers came in sight of the beautiful harbor of Bombay. In the distance they obtained a fine view of the clusters of islands upon one of which the city of Bombay is built. But the gray dusk of night lay over the harbor, and the flash from the new Colaba light dazzled them as they passed it. The steamer made slow progress, for the water was liter- ally filled with fishing-craft. Scott could see the quaint out- line as they crept through the forest of boats, and at last he was interested in every thing. This was the land toward which all his hopes were turned ; and he eagerly drank in every item, that he might the more rapidly become acquainted with it all. The steamer was delayed in waiting for a pilot, for the pilots of Bombay are a very independent set of fellows. "They'll come when they get good and ready, and not before," remarked the captain gruffly, as he stood watching for their light. " Why is that?" asked Scott. " I should think they would want the job." "So they might," said the captain: "but there's a club of them ; and they all get their percentage, no matter who takes in the ship." 1 68 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. " Then, why don't you go in yourself, and cheat the whole of them?" said Scott. "That's what I'd do." "I'd have to pay the pilot-fee all the same, as soon as I came to anchor," replied the captain. " And then, if I did any damage to myself or any one else, I'd be well punished for it by the court. That's all." ^^r aA-*" ^j^^^^^^s?s^^'-5^-=i^"'- COAST OF BOMBAY. " And quite enough," observed Scott. Then the pilot-boat appeared. "They've stocked their lockers, and now they'll take us in," said the captain as he went on deck, meaning that they had waited to finish supper before coming out. Slowly, very slowly, the steamer crept up, and rounded the point, when suddenly all the lights of the circling city came into view, extending for several miles away in the SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 169 distance. All over the water, too, were the lights of almost innumerable ships ; for Bombay is the great importation port of India. No sooner were the papers signed than the decks were swarming with all kinds of natives. There were half- naked boatmen, dingi wallahs in scores, wrangling for an oppor- tunity to carry them ashore ; for the tide rises seventeen feet sometimes in Bombay, and it is impossible to make the fine stone wharves available for the larger steamers. Mingling with them were very polite and loquacious hotel clerks, with the dark Hindu faces, but dressed as Europeans, pressing the claims of a half-dozen of the best hotels of the city. There were several Hindus and Mussulmans, who spoke English well, as they thought, urging the passengers to en- gage them as kitmutgars, or servants ; for, as Scott soon found out, every one in India has to have at least one native servant. When they were out of the bustle, Richard explained to him the necessity. These fellows were shoving in their faces numberless letters of recommendation from former employers. They were the neatest set who came on board, with white or colored turbans twisted tightly about their black hair or smoothly-shaven heads, long white cloaks bound about the waist with soft girdles, very small white breeches cling- ing about their ankles, and feet thrust into pointed slippers. But the most insinuating and the most unpleasant class of all were the Parsis, in all kinds of dress, most of them aping, in some respect, the clothes of the Europeans, but all wearing the curious shining black hats, looking like bishops' mitres turned sideways. They were money-changers, looking for opportunities to purchase English gold with Hindu ru- pees. They are lighter in complexion than the Hindus. 170 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. " They look as though they had a biHoiis turn, and had it bad," said Scott. " I should like to push the whole lot of them overboard." " It would hardly do," replied Mr, Raymond ; " for they are the Jews of Bombay. They have the money. They are very serviceable sometimes. You will meet them everywhere." It was so late when they landed, that as they rolled away in an English cab, driven by an apish-looking Hindu, Scott obtained but a faint idea of his surroundings, except that every thing was very strange. They went to the Byculla Hotel as soon as they landed on the Apollo bundar, or wharf; and early in the morning they started for a walk. Just outside the court of the hotel they came upon one of the great sights of India, — a band of jugglers. " They are bound to initiate you early," said Richard. " Here are some fellows that are almost the trademark of Hindustan. Wait till I set them going. They are lying around here, waiting for the people in the hotel to wake up." He threw some coins into the midst of the crowd, saying in Hindustani, " What are you about, you lazy fellows ? Don't you think we want to see any thing of India?" It was like throwing corn to a flock of hungry chickens. Instantly the whole crowd sprang up, and all together began operations. One fellow began beating a drum, and moaning and howling as if in his last agony. "Can't he stop that noise? I can hardly see while he is making that racket," said Scott. " You would see nothing if he should stop," replied Richard ; " for it is that delightful music that inspires the whole of them." And, sure enough, as soon as he was well under way. SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 171 they all grew excited, and their bodies and voices joined in the hubbub. In the front, just under their eyes, sat a fellow who drew out two thin swords twenty-six inches long ; and, after insisting that they examine them, he deliberately put the points into his mouth, and pushed the entire length down his throat. Then he wanted them to put their hands over 172 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. his stomach, where they could feel the points. Another put a stone into his mouth ; and a moment later, fire and a dense cloud of smoke issued from his nose and mouth, which at last completely enveloped him. Then he suddenly turned a som- ersault, and, opening his mouth, calmly took out the stone, and threw it on the ground. One fellow took some iron hoops, one after another, on a pole, where he set them spinning, till he had eighteen in a line ; then, sticking the pole into the ground, he deliberately sprang through the whirling hoops, and, landing on his feet, he turned about, picked up the pole, and still kept the hoops whirling. Another began throwing short swords into the air, till he had ten of them flying about his head ; and, in all the confusion, little acrobats were performing all manner of antics, and a sleight-of-hand performer was endeavoring to attract their en- tire attention to endless little tricks he was dexterously play- ing. They set a basket down in their midst. It was about two feet broad, a foot and a half high, and two and a half feet long. They took a netting that was made in the shape of a small bag, and, after much ado, succeeded in crowding into it a Hindu boy. They tied the neck of the bag fast, and laid the boy upon the top of the basket, which was apparently much smaller than he was. A sheet was thrown over him ; and in a moment the netting-bag was thrown out from under the sheet, tied as it had been, but empty. They drew the sheet away, but the boy had disappeared. Some one said that he was in the basket ; and one of the Hindus at once took the cover off, and jumped in himself, stamping about in it furiously. He then put the cover on, and bound it. Then he took a long sword, and thrust it through the basket, and out of every corner. With the last thrust a wild SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. ^7Z cry of pain issued from the basket, and he drew the sword out dripping with blood. "I have killed the boy!" he cried; and Scott shuddered, for he certainly thought he had. But the Hindu pointed to a crow sitting on a tree at a little distance, and said, — " Heaven be praised ! my boy was a good boy. He has only been turned into a bird ; but I will soon have him back." He gathered the sheet up into a little ball, and threw it at the crow, which was frightened and flew away. But the Hindu only laughed; and, gathering up the sheet again, he cried, — *' I have him ! " Then he threw the sheet over the basket with one hand, while he drew it off with the other ; and, behold, the basket was strained in every part, to contain the boy. The Hindu joy- fully untied the knots, and the cover flew up, for the boy was apparently so large that it could hardly hold him ; and, smiling, he crept out of the basket without a scratch. One of the Hindus then began to play the famous tree trick, — making a man go grow from a little seed, blossom, and bear fruit, under a sheet, where there was absolutely nothing but sand before : but they had looked so long that it was time for breakfast ; and, assuring Scott that he would see jugglers in India till he would wish that there was no such thing in the world, Richard turned away, and they entered the hotel court. The guests had begun to gather on the broad veranda, where already there were two snake-charmers performing. "These fellows are plenty just now: there must be some- thing up in the city that draws them here," said Richard, as they approached the little group gathered about the charmers. They were two wrinkled old Hindus, with eyes that looked like snakes' eyes, and motions that were so subtle and quick, 174 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. that Scott thought there must be some affinity between them and their serpents. In httle baskets before them there were several snakes coiled away ; and each charmer was playing on a rude gourd flute to a huge cobra that was coiling and un- coiling and weaving before him in time to the music. They SERPENT-CHASMEBS. would hiss, and dart their heads at the charmers sometimes ; and the way the charmers dodged them showed that they did not think them entirely harmless, as they spread the broad hoods just below their heads, and displayed every symptom of anger. Then one of the charmers stood up, and, catching the snake about the neck with one hand, threw him three times about his head, and let him fall upon the ground. There he lay, rigid and stiff, at full length, and straight as an arrow. SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 175 " I have killed my snake," cried the Hindu ; " but I have a good cane instead." And, taking the creature up by the tail, he pretended to walk about, leaning on him. "Will any one buy my cane?" he asked, offering it to several of the bystanders, who shuddered, and drew away. He smiled ; and, thrusting the head of the rigid serpent under his turban, he began to push up the rest of the body, till at last all but the tip of his tail had disappeared. Then he removed his turban, and there lay the poisonous reptile in a glittering coil upon his head Scott gave a cry of surprise ; and Richard asked, " Does that remind you of any thing in particular ? " " Of Moses before Pharaoh ! " exclaimed Scott. " You are not the first one who has thought of it," replied Richard. " Sceptics are using it as an argument, to-day, to prove that Moses was only an expert snake-charmer, after all." " Well, he succeeded in getting the children of Israel away, and that was what he was driving at," said Scott. Richard went up to the charmer, who was now waiting for his assistant to collect the offerings. The people who had been looking on did not pay half so much attention now as they had before, and were some of them so busy read- ing the morning papers that they could not even hear the assistant when he spoke to them. After a moment's conver- sation, Richard returned, with the information that that day was the great feast of Nag-Panchmi ; and, on the way in to breakfast, he promised Scott that he should see serpents enough that day to keep him in snaky dreams for the rest of his life. The breakfast-room was large and high, and full of windows. 176 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. opened wide and covered with kus-kus grass awnings, that Hindu servants in white costumes were continually sprinkling with water, to cool the light breeze that came through them. Over each long table something entirely new to Scott was sus- pended from the ceiling, looking like panels, three feet broad, as long as the table, and ornamented with fancy fringes. From the lower corner of each, that was only a little above the heads of those sitting at the tables, a small cord was attached, that, after passing through several pulleys, went down into the hand of a native boy, sitting close against the side of the room. Scott had noticed one of them in his room the night before, but he was too tired to wonder what it was. Now, before he could ask, the guests began to seat themselves ; and suddenly all the panels began to swing vigorously back and forth, fanning every one at the table. " You like the punkas f " said Richard, watching him. "That is a name and a half," replied Scott: " I should like them better with some other name." "There is nothing else that will do so well: 'punka' is Hindustani for ' fan,' and these pU7ikas are the saving of a fellow's life if he lives long in India." " But it is not so very hot this morning," said Scott : "I noticed that the thermometer was only eighty-three." " But did you ever know it to be so hot at eighty-three in Boston ? " asked Richard. " It is a sultry, damp heat here, that tells on one. The blood gets hotter and hotter. After break- fast we will drive on Malabar Hill, and obtain a little sea- breeze for a change." " I feel as if a breath of salt air would do me good," replied Scott, laughing. Nevertheless, after drinking a cup of hot coffee, and eating a plate of snow-white rice and curry, with SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 177 chicken, and several bananas and oranges, he began to realize that eighty- three was certainly ho'tter in Bombay than it was in Boston, and that a sea-breeze would not be bad. They walked down the street a little way, as Richard wanted to mail a letter at the Byculla station, which was just beyond. Before the station -gate there sat an old man on the ground, and a boy stood beside him with a bamboo tray in his hands. They were ragged and dirty ; and the old man, especially, had as ugly and unpleas- ant a face as could well be imagined. " What in the world is that frightful fellow trying to do ? " asked Scott as they approached. " He's only sell- ing fruit," replied Richard. " But what a horrible face ! It's enough to drive every one to the other side of the street." " You don't buy the old man's face. You need not even look at it. Go to the boy, and get half a dozen of those custard-apples. You'll like them." Scott obeyed ; and when he was close to the old man, and looked fairly in his face, it was not so ugly after all. While they were stopping by the gate, a curious vehicle was driven by, drawn, at a slow dog-trot, by a span of mal- tese bullocks, with humps on their shoulders, in front of which the yoke was laid. FKUIT -SELLER. 178 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. " Look at there ! " cried Scott. " Is that a man, or monkey, driving ? " " It's an argument for Darwin surely," repHed Richard. " But the poor fellow is not half so much a monkey as he looks. He is only one of the poorest of workingmen. That is a native gharri. It belongs to his employer. The poor fellow will not receive ten cents a day ; but out of it he r/^r GOING TO MARKET probably has a large family of children, and three or four wives, to support." " But that was a regular bufier riding with him. What was he, — crown prince, or sheik of some sort?" " Hardly," replied Richard, laughing. " What his ancestors may have been I could not say, for there are hosts of princes and nabobs working for their living in India now ; but that fellow is only some one's cook or butler, going to the market to purchase the breakfast." " I hope he's late enough about it," said Scott. ** Not very," replied Mr. Raymond. " At the hotel we SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 179 could have breakfast early : but, if we were living as every one lives in India, we should only have what they call ' chota hazri^ or ' little breakfast,' of bread and tea and fruit, early ; then we should sit about the house, and read and bathe, and about nine or ten we should have breakfast." " See ! He is stopping at that shanty. Is that the market ? " asked Scott, still watching the gharri. "It is the place where those fellows always stop first," said Richard. " It is a coffee-house. He will go in there, and smoke a hookah, and drink a cup of coffee, before he does any thing else ; and then he will charge enough more for what he gets at the market to pay the bill." " I'd go to market myself, if that's the way," said Scott, as they turned away. " It wouldn't pay," said Richard. " In the first place, it is too hot ; and then, when a European goes to market, they charge him so much more, that it is the cheapest in the end for him to pay for the cook's coffee." " Ha, you ! Buggy wallah ! " he called suddenly, as a car- riage something like a clumsy doctor's gig passed, with the driver sitting in front of the dasher. He obediently stopped, and turned up to where they were standing. As they got in, Richard directed him to drive them over Malabar Hill. "What was it you called him?" asked Scott when they started. " Buggy wallah," replied Richard. " But is not that English ? " " Yes, the buggy part of it is ; and this Is supposed to be an English vehicle. At any rate, ' buggy ' is the only name these people know it by. But eat your apples, and see if you like them. They have a wonderful history." i8o OUR BOYS IN INDIA. The apples were large and green ; but, instead of a skin, they were covered with coarse green scales. Scott pulled out one of these scales, and a soft buff pulp followed it, that looked and smelled and tasted like a most delicious custard. But the moment he had put his teeth into it, they struck against a hard black seed thkt literally filled the soft pulp. " It is splendid ! what there is of it," said Scott ; " but TO MALABAR HILL. one might almost starve to death while he was eating. What is the history ? " " Why, the real name is the apple of Eden ; and the Mohammedans say that that is the apple with which Eve tempted Adam in the garden of Eden. They say that then it had a skin like tissue, and of a beautiful color, and that the seeds were almost invisible, and that the flavor now is the very faintest suggestion of the fragrance that it had in the garden." " I don't wonder that Adam and Eve went for them, then," observed Scott, as he began a second apple of Eden. " How SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. I8l soon do we come to Malabar Hill ? " he asked, looking up when it was finished. " We are now driving on that illustrious spot," replied Richard, waving his hand ostentatiously. " We are in the midst of the residences of the aristocracy of Bombay, — Euro- peans, Parsis, Mussulmans, — the paradise of boobies and snobs, and some very good fellows too," he added with a laugh. " But I don't call it much of a hill," said Scott, looking down a broad and certainly beautiful avenue ; " though it was something like these apples, — very steep, what there was of it." "It is the most of a hill that there is on the island," replied Richard, as the driver turned about, and in time was in the heart of the city again. The streets were all crowded with people now, the booths were opened, and every thing in the bazaar was ready for business. There were all sorts of people, in all sorts of costumes, and doing every thing imaginable. There were nabobs swelling along with two or three servants about them, and beggars and merchants. There were women with their faces all covered with veils, and women with one eye exposed through the folds of a white sari that was thrown over th,em ; and there were women very prettily dressed in gaudy little jackets and silk breeches, with only a fancy gauze cloak. There were children half naked, and children, hosts of them, with nothing- on but a little stringf tied round their waists. There were porters carrying bundles, and sometimes half a dozen staggering along under the weight of a large box or bale hung upon a bamboo pole which rested on their shoul- ders ; and as they went they grunted, "He, he, he! Ho, ho, ho ! " to keep in step, and forget their burden. There 1 82 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. were bhistis, or water-carriers, with large earthen jugs, or kujas, hung upon opposite ends of a long bamboo pole which rested over their shoulders, and women with all kinds of bundles on their heads. There were all nations there, and all seemed at home. There were British soldiers and native policemen ; and during their ride they even saw the peculiar sight of two Hindu policemen taking a drunken English soldier to the fort. No one seemed to fear being run over, or to be on the lookout for carriages ; and the result was, that the drivers had to keep up one unending howl to men, women, and children, who were forever in their way ; and one could have walked about as fast as the buggy was drawn through the bazaar. " What makes every one walk in the middle of the street ? " asked Scott. " Because there is nothing but middle," replied Richard. Scott had not thought of it before ; but, when he looked, there was absolutely no sign of a sidewalk anywhere. "They must get their shoes all dirt," he observed, "and have pretty-looking carpets to pay for it." " In the first place, they don't have carpets, as a general thing, not even the rich fellows," said Richard ; " and, carpets or no carpets, they never wear shoes into the house, any more than we wear our hats." " But what an absurd idea to take off one's shoes ! " ex- claimed Scott. " I don't know about that, Scott : they say, what an absurd idea to take off the hat, instead ! for they say their shoes touch the ground, and are defiled, and will defile their friends' houses ; but their hats do no harm on their heads. A host of things are right or wrong in this world, just according to who do them, and who judge them." 1 84 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. "■ I believe you are right, Mr. Raymond," said Scott. " But tell me some more about these fellows, and what they do. It is a deal more interesting than ever before, now that I am looking- rio-ht at them." "The best way to tell you will be to show you," said Richard. " And the best time to show you is right away now, for we don't know where we may be by to-morrow." " How are you going to show me ? " asked Scott, as Richard gave an order to the coachman. " I am going to take you to call on an old friend of mine, — Esofali Hiptulabhoy." " O Caesars ghost ! what a name ! " groaned Scott, as he sank back in the buggy. "What sort of a man is he?" " He is a high official, and a very good fellow," " He is a heathen, of course, to have such a name," muttered Scott. " Yes, he is a heathen," said Richard, but in such a voice, that Scott instantly looked up, and realized that he had hurt his friend's feelings. " I was only joking, Mr. Raymond," he hastened to add. " That's all right," replied Richard, smiling. " I was only thinking how Americans enjoy calling these people heathen, while there is much to admire, and really not much to despise, in them, except the bad habits they have learned from the English, which are made a thousand times worse in the Hindus than they are in the English, because the Hin- dus do not know how to control them, and hide them." "But tell me about this Mr. Hip — Hip — Hip — What was the name ? Really, it was horrible, Mr. Raymond." " Let me tell you what it means, and perhaps you will not think it quite so bad. My friend's name is Esofali. SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 185 His father's is Hiptula. The termination ' bhoy ' is put on, making him EsofaH Hiptulabhoy. The ' Eso ' is for the word ' Esa,' meaning Jesus ; and ' Ah ' means follower, with a eu- phonious ' f ' between. Then ' Hipt ' means friend, and ' Allah ' is God ; so that the horrible name of this heathen is ' follower of Jesus, and friend of God.' " "Then he is a Christian," said Scott. " Not at all," replied Richard. " He is one of the strictest of Mussulmans ; but the Mussulmans believe in Adam and Moses and Solomon, and in all the Old Testament, in fact, down to Jesus. Then they branch off, and believe that Mohammed was still greater, — the prophet of all the prophets of God." " Then you keep speaking of the Hindus as though they were something else." " So they are," said Richard. "It is only when we say Hindu very carelessly that we mean all the people that live in India. The Hindus are really the followers of the Bramhanical religion. There are one hundred and seventy-five million of them in India, and only fifty million Mussulmans, or Moham- medans as they are sometimes called. The Hindus are the people that the missionaries preach to principally, for the Mussulmans say that they are better than Christians already ; and so it is the Hindus that we hear all the horrible stories about. They are the people that are so divided up into castes, where the Bramhans, or priests, are at the head, and the pariahs at the foot. It is very hard to deal with them, they are so full of whims ; yet, after all, there is something very suggestive to our loose-jointed notions of strict Christian principles in the fierceness with which they stick to their religious peculiarities. I had two servants once, a Hindu 1 86 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. and a Mussulman, who went with me on a trip into the mountains. We were all alone, and a long way from help, when they both became badly poisoned, and I feared they would die. I had a bottle of antidote with me ; and, hurrying to the Mussulman, I put the bottle to his mouth without waiting to turn any out. Then I gave it to the Hindu ; but the fellow refused to touch it because it had been against the lips of the Mussulman. I turned some out, but all in vain. Before I thought, I told him it was all I had, or I should have deceived him in some way. But he only shook his head, and said, ' I would rather die than defile myself to live.' " " What a fool he was ! " exclaimed Scott. " I don't think so," said Richard. " That boy honestly believed that it was wrong for him to touch any thing from which one not of his caste had been drinking-. Because we think it a foolish notion did not make it right for him. And he died up there in the mountains sooner than do what he thought was wrong." " I don't believe a Christian would have done that," said Scott. " And I don't see the use of missionaries spending so much time and money in trying to convert fellows that are already a deal better than Christians. 'Twould be better to have them send missionaries to America." " That's a mistake that I made too, and I did not get over it for a long time. It would certainly do Christianity a deal of good to imbibe some of the scrupulousness of the Hindus ; but when it occurred to me how much better Christianity was, if really lived up to, than was this Hinduism, I saw at once the eood of brino-ino- such fellows as these Hindus into the line," SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. " Do they make as good Christians as they did Hindus?" asked Scott. " Here we are already! " exclaimed Richard, calling- to the driver to stop outside the gate. " This is a crazy sort of a gig to make a formal call on a great nabob in," he added with a laugh. " I fancy we might as well walk up to the house." And, suitinof his actions to his words, he stepped from the buggy. " I should not think he could be much of a nabob, to live behind a fence like that," Scott remarked, as he followed Mr. Raymond, and looked up at the high stucco wall, not in very good repair, beside a gate at which they had stopped. " In America we spend every thing on the outside," replied Richard ; " and we care comparatively little for the dust and dirty clothes behind the door, if our neighbor's eyes cannot see there. But in India they go on the opposite principle, and care very little what the outside is, so long as the inside is clean. It is only their way," he added, laughing ; but Scott's attention was attracted to a fiorure at one side of the half-crumblino- grate. o o o HINDU MENDICANT. 1 88 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. A fellow, the very picture of some of the idols Scott had seen in drawings, sat by the gate, covered with rags, and as dirty as mortal man could easily be. His forehead was painted with blue and red and yellow, in three circles, and there were stripes of yellow down each cheek. On his head there was a pyramid of beads as large as English walnuts, strung on a coarse thread, and wound higher and higher over some dirty sort of a turban, till they came to a point. Strings of larger and smaller beads were round his neck, and hanofinof down to his waist. The rags that covered him were fantastically arranged. In one hand he held a copper or brass plate, and in the other a sort of a globe. " He is a religious mendicant," said Mr. Raymond, without waiting for a question. " But what in the world is he doing there?" " Waiting for alms," replied Richard, smiling. " I hope he's waiting patiently enough ! He don't seem over-anxious. He has not moved a feather since I first looked at him," said Scott. ''That's because he believes it is more blessed to give than to receive ; and he thinks he is conferring a favor upon you by letting you have an opportunity to give him some- thing." " It's very good of him, I must say," said Scott a little scornfully. "It is precisely what our Bible teaches," suggested Rich- ard. " But never mind the theology of the thing. If you have a two-anna piece, like an English sixpence, hold it between your thumb and finger, by your side, and see how soon it will move him." "The old reprobate!" muttered Scott. "I'd sooner give SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 189 him a slap in the face. He's the very picture of impertinence, sitting there Hke a statue. He's a hypocrite : I know he is." Still he took out the two-anna piece ; and, in an instant, the little dish came into position to receive it. Scott had a good mind to put the money back in his pocket. He even made a motion that way ; but, seeing how willingly the beggar was withdrawing the plate, he decided it would not be so good a joke after all, and dropped the coin in the tray. " Giving to the poor is purchasing mercy in heaven ; and in the spirit that you give shall the mercy be delivered. Thank you, little gentleman," said the fellow, bowing and smiling, and speaking in very good English. Scott shot through the gate as if he had been fired from a cannon. " I saddled the wrong horse that time surely," he said, when Mr. Raymond came up with him ; and his face was red to the temples. " Yes," said Richard, " he had the best of you : there is no doubt of it. I never heard of but one of those fellows before who could speak English." "Would you go back and apologize?" asked Scott. " I think not. He would hardly know what you meant. But I would be careful in the future, and not take advantage of a fellow being deaf, to speak ill of him," replied Richard. " So I will," said Scott decidedly. And now for the first time he noticed where they were going, and with a cry of delight paused for a moment to enjoy the beautiful picture. They were in the midst of a large garden, with brilliant flowers growing in profusion on every side. There were large trees, too, about the borders ; and little green and red parrots were chattering everywhere. The flower-beds were not fan- IQO OUR BOYS IN INDIA. ciful little things, like those Scott had seen in front lawns in America, but enormous affairs, without much regularity, with great flowering shrubs, like a little forest, and paths paved with white marble leading through them. Down the centre, through an open space, rose a large, and at least curious, mansion. There were little windows and broad balconies and domes and arches everywhere. The lower floor seemed to ESOFALI'S HOUSE. be only an immense pavilion of beautiful arches supported by carved pillars. *' Well," said Scott in astonishment, " he is somethino- of a nabob, after all. But how in the world am I to act ? Goodness me! I never thought of that. Let me wait out here. Please do. Do you keep on your hat, and take ofl" your shoes ? " " How would you expect a Mohammedan gentleman to act, when he was calling on your father ? " suggested Richard. SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 191 " Why, the best he knew how, of course ! " said Scott. "Very well: if you behave like a gentleman to the best of your ability, I don't believe that Esofali will find any fault with you." But here he was interrupted by two natives, who came running toward them with something made of beautiful peacock-feathers. But before they began to shield them from the sun, as was their evident intention, they fell upon the ground, touching their foreheads, and muttering something in which Scott could often distinguish the name of " Raymond Sahib." He knew they were greeting his friend ; and he began to suspect that Mr. Raymond was of more importance than he had thought, from the generous way in which he had been his companion. They entered the house through one of the beautiful arches. Several servants were formed in line on either side of the passage ; and all knelt, and touched their foreheads, as Mr. Raymond and Scott went in. They were ushered into a large room with a white marble floor, and elaborately carved marble screens before the windows. There were fine tapes- tries and Persian rugs on the walls and floors, some very soft divans, or low sofas, and a little marble table ; but otherwise the room was without any ornaments. They had waited but a moment, when a very tall and fine- looking native entered the room, and almost running to Richard, clasped both hands in his, pressed them upon his lips and then on his forehead, held them there for a moment, then exclaimed, — "Aha, Raymond Sahib! the sky has been black since you left, and now the sun breaks out again with your coming. But nothing has gone wrong, that you come so unexpectedly ? " " Nothing is amiss," said Richard pleasantly ; and Scott 1^2 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. thought it precisely the way in which he would have spoken to him, and wondered how it could be, when in the presence of so great a man as he had described Esofali. Then he turned, and introduced Scott, and Scott felt his cheeks grow- ing red, as the Mohammedan grasped his hand ; but he shook it just as though he were an American, and, in very good English, said, — " I am delighted to see you, my young friend. Any friend of the great and wise Raymond Sahib is welcome here." Then he went on in Hindustani with Richard, often address- ing a question in English to Scott, till Scott felt so much at home that he began to examine him closely. Esofali was magnificently dressed, yet very simply. He had a plain white muslin coat on, bound at the waist with a soft cashmere girdle. Over that was a long white silk loose coat, with a heavy collar embroidered with gold. It hung so low as almost to cover a pair of satin breeches that were very large, and, in turn, completely covered his feet. On his head he wore only a little cashmere cap as soft and white as snow, with a thread of gold embroidery about it. He insisted upon their remaining to breakfast. Scott thought it nearly time for his dinner, but it did not matter much what it was called. He was so much in fear that he should do something wrong, however, for every thing was so strange, that he almost lost his appetite. Several varieties of sweetmeats were the first thing served to them, in as many little dishes. Then there were fish and fried eggs, with a curious flavor that he did not understand. The odor was delicious, as the dishes were brought upon the table ; but the taste was so different, that, do what he would, he could eat but little. Then there was rice and curry and chicken ; but the SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 193 rice had cloves and cardamom- seeds boiled in it, and the curry- was full of fruit. Scott knew it must be good by the way in which Mr. Raymond ate it, as he had never seen him eat before ; but he quietly made up his mind that Mussulman cook- ing was not for him. He little dreamed what a very short time it would be before he would eat those dishes, highly spiced and curiously cooked, quite as ravenously as Mr. Raymond. Before they went away, their host brought in his old father, a gentleman with a very white beard. His hair was shaven close to his head, like that of his son. He could not speak English, but received Scott very cordially. Then Esofali brought in his little boy, a cunning little fellow of five years, who sat on the edge of the table, and pronounced a few English words very correctly, much to the delight of his father and grandfather. When Mr. Raymond left, each pressed his hand to their foreheads, and bade Scott a cordial farewell, urging them to be sure and come to their home again. " Is his wife dead ? " Scott asked, as they rode down the street in their host's handsome English carriage. " I dared not ask him about her, for you did not ; but it was very funny not to see any lady at all at the table." Richard laughed for a moment, much to Scott's discom- FIVE YEARS OLD. 1^4 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. fort, then replied, " One wife died a year ago ; but he has three, at least, left." " Three wives ! Why, how in the world can that be ? And where do they keep themselves ? " exclaimed Scott. " Though you did not see them, I'll warrant they all saw you I heard them chatting behind the screen at the end of the room while we were eating breakfast." "Then it would have been polite for me to have asked for them ? " said Scott. " It would not have mattered with Esofali, but it is not the custom. The wives of the Mussulmans very rarely come into society where there are men, and one never asks con- cerning their health. It would be thought a great impolite- ness here, just as it would be with us to ask a lady how old she was, or if she had the stomach-ache. It is simply some- thing that they never talk about." SNAKES. 195 CHAPTER XIII. SNAKES. N driving home they passed the great cotton-market, where bales of Indian cotton were piled in immense blocks. On rickety benches at one corner sat a few men, many of them Parsis, engaged in folding their hands, and smoking cigarettes. "They are the famous cotton-brokers of Bombay," remarked .Richard, pointing toward them with his thumb. " Don't believe the board has opened yet, then," said Scott. "They are taking life easy." " It's not much like a botirse in America certainly ; and yet business is in full blast there, and those fellows literally control the vast cotton interests of India. They transact a tremendous amount of business, and do it all in that same solemn fashion." " I should have called it a funeral," observed Scott. When they reached the hotel, there were two natives wait- ing on the veranda, in clothes as white as snow, grinning from ear to ear ; and, the moment that Richard stepped from the carriage, they were both upon the ground, kissing his feet. He stepped back, and made them stand up. Then each took a hand, and pressed it to his forehead, and knelt again. Scott stood back in amazement, till Richard explained, " They are two boys from my little place at Poona, whom I telegraphed to, last night, to come down and meet us. We 196 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. shall need them as kiimutgars, and we can trust them better than the fellows we might pick up here." "But what do I want of a servant?" said Scott inde- pendently. " I always waited upon myself." " You'll find it very different here," replied Richard. " It is too hot to do every thing for yourself; and you will often be too tired, though you may have done nothing. Then, there are a host of things that will absolutely require a servant. Things that you could do in America, and be proud of doing, THE COTTON-BROKERS. would injure you in the opinion of natives, at least, to do here. One is oblig-ed to cater to their notions somewhat, in living here ; for he requires their respect and good will." " It must make it rather expensive," said Scott. " Not so very. These two boys, for instance, cost me eight cents a day apiece ; and if we wished we could pick up boys for less. The hotels charge nothing for them ; for they do our work, and wait on us at the table. And many of the railroads and steamers about India allow each first-class passenger to take one or two native servants." SNAKES. 197 By this time they had reached their rooms ; and Richard said, — " Neither of these boys can speak Enghsh, for I never employ one that can : they are apt to be unreHable. But they will either of them understand what you want, almost before you can ask them. You can take your choice. The one with the gold cao and jacket is Say ad, an 1 the one with the turban is Moro. Sayad is a Muj sulman, and Moro is Hindu." The two boys smiled, as they already compre- hended what Mr. Ray- mond was saying about them. " I think I could get along with a Mussulman best," said Scott, to which Richard assented ; and Sayad, with his pretty gold cap and vest, was turned over to Scott as his personal servant so long as he remained in India. " He will sleep on a rug just outside your door at night," Richard explained. " He will attend to your bath in the morning ; he will black your boots, and brush your clothes ; take care of your trunk ; see to your washing going and coming from the dhobi, or washerman ; wait on you at the table ; take care of your room ; and walk with you whenever fe- 198 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. ^ you wish him to, to carry your bundles, and do errands. You must let him do all these things every day, see that he does them well, and never do them yourself, or he will expect you always to do them. Be kind to him always, but never let him feel that you think him an equal. They are not brought up in that way here. There are just two things that you must be careful of. For- gners often overlook iliem at first, and at once )me to the conclusion ihat Hindus are the worst irvants in the world. You must know just what you have in your trunk, and, if you miss any thing, tell him at once, and direct him to find it be- fore the next morning, and never believe too implicitly what he tells you. As a rule, the Hin- du idea of honesty is very ^^^^^- weak in little things. They will steal and lie without thinking they are really doing wrong. If you charge them with it, and grow angry, they only become dogged, and you can do nothing with them ; but, if you take it right, you will keep them right all the time, without their feeling it. That's a long sermon I've preached to you on the moral treatment of Hindu servants ; but it took me years to learn it, and I found it very useful at last. Now we must be ready for dinner ; and you'll be l,jMLl^i ^Mu- SNAKES. iQg hungry, notwithstanding- the hearty breakfast you ate at Eso- fali's, hey ? " Scott went into his room, followed by Sayad, who did not need an order to that effect, for his eyes had told him all about it ; and he and Moro found it hard to tell which should be jealous of the other, — the one who was selected by the new comer, or the one who could remain with the old master. Scott opened his eyes wider and wider to see how readily Sayad took his new duties in hand, and how he seemed to read his thoughts. The clothes for dinner were laid out at the boy's fancy, and correctly, without consulting Scott. They were brushed and put upon a chair in such a way that Scott could most easily reach them in the proper order. Then his slippers were given him to put on, while Sayad blacked his boots. Sayad even shampooed his head, and combed his hair for him, and did it as well as a barber, — an operation that Scott found very refreshing in the heat of that Bombay afternoon. Then he neatly folded the old clothes, and care- fully packed the trunk, and locked it, giving the key to Scott. Thus, without a word passing between them, Scott was ready to go down, and every thing in order to leave. He had done absolutely nothing but move enough to take off one suit of clothes, and put on another. "Why, it's like being a sultan!" he exclaimed to Mr. Raymond when they met. " He's the finest fellow I ever heard of." "Well, don't let him know that you think so," replied Richard. " Nothing spoils a native servant so quickly as undue praise or blame. A new broom sweeps clean, you know ; and, the first time you see that he has not done any thing just as well as he did it to-day, make him do it over 200 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. again, no matter how tired he Is. It Is the only way to keep him straight." "Isn't that rather rough?" questioned Scott. " It sounds so : but that Is the way I've brought these boys up ; and you see they are not only good servants, but they love me." After dinner Richard proposed that Scott should take a nap, while Sayad pulled the punka over his bed ; " for," said he, " some friends of mine are going to give us a little dinner of welcome to-night, and it will be pretty late, as we must go first to the feast of serpents. It Is a sight one sees but once a year In Bombay, and we must not miss It. You will be tired." The sun was setting when they started. They went alone ; and Sayad and Moro were allowed to go by themselves, to see what they wished of the festival. " It has been going on all day, especially about the temples," said Richard ; " but to-night we shall see the best of it. Look at that ! See that bullock-team going by ! " Scott looked up, as, through the dense crowd that already filled the street, a curious wagon, drawn by a pair of nearly white bullocks, went crowding Its way. The bullocks had really no harness on, but a strap about their necks to keep the unique yoke fast, and a ring In their noses, to which a sort of reins was attached ; for the driver sat behind, as though he had a pair of horses. The carriage was the most curious thing, however. There were two heavy wheels, with- out springs, supporting a very clumsy body, that was nothing after all but a dome, very like a miniature temple, with four arches and four pillars, supported at the four corners of the vehicle. In the front arch sat the driver, and under the SNAKES. 20I dome a woman reclined, wrapped up in a cloud of gauze, and wearing all the jewelry that she could pile upon her little face and neck. "What is she?" asked Scott. " Upon my word, it's almost a mowing-machine ! " "A Bramhan woman, — one of the very highest caste of CARRIAGE OF HINDT7 LADY. Hindus," replied his friend. "It is their great day for show- ing themselves. It is really the feast of the god Krishna, whose great celebrity is his love for pretty women ; and they make to-day the anniversary of his killing the great serpent Bindrabund, that was once supposed to be the spirit of evil on the banks of the Jumna." "It is not simply the worship of Krishna, is it?" said Scott. 202 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. " No, indeed ! It is a day of making offerings to snakes in general, — feeding them, that is about all, and praying to them not to bite them in the year to come." " See those torches yonder ! " exclaimed Scott. " That is where we are going. That is the centre of the illumination. There is no hurry, though ; for they will wait till it is quite dark before they begin." " Look at these booths all along the way," he added. "They have images of the god for sale;" "Idols?" ejaculated Scott in horror. " Yes, idols," replied Mr. Raymond, laughing. " And garlands of flowers, and milk, to offer to the snakes. You might purchase a can of milk, and take it with you ; for the priests will be pleased with the offering, though they would not take the milk from you themselves." "Do they really worship these things?" asked Scott in a sort of fascinated horror, working his way up to one of the booths. " Not at all," returned Richard decidedly. " And that is where a host of our good people in America make a great mistake." " I always thought they did," mused Scott, now taking one up, and looking at it for a moment, when, before, he would have loathed it. " The Hindus who are at all educated would laueh at you, if you suggested that they were worshipping this piece of wood." "What do they worship, then?" " God," said Richard earnestly. " Not our God ! " exclaimed Scott. " There may be a difference of opinion there," replied SNAKES. 203 Richard. " For my part, I believe they worship the same God that we do, and that he accepts their worship." " Then, why should they be converted by the mission- aries ? " " Because Christianity is so much the noblest and best way to worship God. The Hindus had, perhaps, the first idea of a Trinity ; and their theology is something like that of very many scholars in enliofhtened lands. They be- lieve that God is every thing, and that every thing is God. They say this little bit of wood, of which they made this idol, is a part of God, and that, in setting it before them when they pray, they are bringing the great God nearer, and more directly before their thoughts. That is all the use the educated make of idols." " I don't call that idol-worship," mused Scott. " Perhaps not," returned Richard ; " yet it is not the best way to bring God before the heart in prayer ; and the quicker our missionaries succeed in their work, the better it will be for the world, even if it is no better for heaven." Scott bought some milk, and turned away. While they had been waiting, a band of snake-charmers had gathered, MOKE SNAKE-CHARMERS. 204 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. with a crowd of boys who were anxious to see every new performance, around the posts of a fountain, or well, just opposite, and were meditatively twining their serpents around their arms, hoping for an opportunity to earn some money in performing for the foreigners. They looked so patiently expectant, that Scott was on the point of giving them the milk he had bought, when Rich- ard restrained him. " They have had a good day, you may be sure," he said ; " and, no matter how much they earn, they will spend it all be- fore morning. You had better save the milk. It was the last they had at the booth ; and, if you have an offering, they will let you through the crowd till you get a much better view farther on." This was very good advice, as Scott soon found ; for, as they approached the centre of action, the crowd became denser. And soon all that he could see, even when lifted up on Mr. Raymond's shoulder, — a position that his sea voyage had made him much too heavy to retain long, — was a crowd of dark faces and white turbans against the smoking torches. It was a curious sight, however ; and Scott declared that THE CROWD BECAME DENSER. SNAKES. 205 even that was well worth coming for : but Richard insisted on getting him nearer. A few minutes later a Bramhan bhat, with shaven head, went slowly past them. It was a difficult thing for a Bram- han to make his way through such a crowd ; but they were not so boisterous or tightly packed as a crowd in America, and fell back sufficiently to give him room as he announced his approach. Just as he was passing the two, Richard called, — "Ha, Kashinath ! " and added in English, "Will you pass an old friend in this way without speaking ? " The priest turned about, and, with an exclamation of delight, cried in English, " Welcome, Raymondrao Sahib ! Welcome to India again ! You could not stay away very long, thank Heaven ! " And he touched his hands to his forehead. "Come to the temple in the morning," he added. "We die if we do not speak with you." " That's very good, Kashinath," returned Richard with a laugh. " But look you ! Here is a young friend of mine, who has an offering of milk, and cannot reach your ugly gods to stuff them." " Stand right by the corner here, Raymondrao, and I will send a sapwallah in five minutes to fetch him on his back." "That's better yet!" exclaimed Mr. Raymond. "That beats all your Oriental compliments put together. Go on ! Go on ! Send the sapwallah, and we'll thank you in the temple to-morrow." " Salaam, Sahib ! " said the Bramhan, bowing as low as the crowd would permit, and touching his hands to his forehead. "What is a sapwallah f asked Scott. 2o6 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. " A serpent-charmer," replied Richard. " Ugh ! " was the comment. " Have I got to ride like a cobra f " " Never mind who carries you, and brings you back," said Richard, laughing, " so long as he takes you safely where you want to go ; and you may be sure of that with any one whom Kashinath may send." "Well, what does Raymondrao Sahib mean?" questioned Scott, who was afraid, that, if he waited, the name would " slip from his mind," as he said, " Rao is simply a title of respect, and so is Sahib. The old fellow felt good-natured, and put it on thick : that is all." " Well, how is it that you know every one, and every one is so terribly good-natured when you are around ? " asked Scott, determined to solve the question that was becoming more prominent every hour. "There comes your sapwallah,'' was the answer, that was not at all satisfactory. " Now, twine around his neck, but don't go bury yourself under his turban." A rather snaky but not altogether unpleasant looking fellow appeared through the crowd, and, making a profound salaam to Mr. Raymond, took Scott on his shoulder without a word, and, by wriggling precisely like a serpent, succeeded in rapidly making his way through the throng w^ithout ap- parently incommoding any one. He set Scott gently down in the midst of a scene that startled every particular hair of his head, and yet was so wildly grand that he stood en- raptured. All about nim torches were flaminof and smoking. Gro- tesque banners were being swung back and forth by their THE FESTIVAL OF THE SERPENTS. 208 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. bearers, as there was no breeze to do it. Men were beating curious drums, and wailing- strange, weird songs, while others were blowing upon metal trumpets. From a circle in which Scott stood, the crowd had been kept back, by fear of the snakes perhaps ; and all about the outer edge stood a line of women — that, in the cross-lights of the moon and the torches, seemed to Scott to be the most beautiful he had ever seen — in cos- tumes as beautiful as they themselves. Some were dressed in tinsel and bril- liant colors ; some, only half clad, were draped in flowing white ; all were bearing offerings of flow- ers or milk for the idols. So far, the scene was so wild and beautiful that Scott would have stood there all night, an en- chanted spectator ; but, when his eye fell to the immediate circle about him, his blood ran cold, in spite of a lifetime of resolving not to be a coward. Directly before him there were two great bowls, each filled with milk ; and around each bowl was a writhing ring of frightful cobra, drinking the milk, while their charmers, in a second circle, were making all the hideous moans imaginable, now and then catching one of the cobra away, to give another a chance. And the dis- appointed fellow would hiss in his madness, and spread his SAPWALLAH. SNAKES. 209 broad hood, that looked many times more hideous in the night than by day. Scott deposited his can of milk, received the blessing of the chief sapwallah in a terrible contortion, that frightened him almost out of his wits. Then he signified to his par- ticular sapwallah that he was ready to retire, and, with a shudder, was tenderly taken on the back where so many a cobra had been crawling, and a moment later was placed as tenderly by the side of Mr. Raymond. " Did you see enough ? You were only gone a moment," said Richard, as he dropped a coin into the sapwallah! s easily opened hand. " I saw enough. Indeed, I did ! " replied Scott. " In fact, I think I have seen all the snakes I care to for a lifetime : am ready to go home any time you are." "You are not hurt?" inquired Richard anxiously. "No, indeed! But those snakes!" said Scott with a shudder. Richard laughed outright. " If that is all," he said, "you'll soon be ready to do it all again. Snakes never lose their charm. But we will find a buggy or cab as soon as possible, and drive back." 2IO OUR BOYS IN INDIA. CHAPTER XIV. IN PALANQUIN AND ROT7V-BOAT. HE evening dinner was a very grand affair. Scott had never seen any thing equal to it. And when the speeches began, he was hardly surprised, after all, to gather from the many words of welcome that his friend was a man of great importance in India, well known from Bombay to Calcutta, and from Madras to Mas- suri. He began to be afraid of him, and to wonder if he were not behaving himself improperly before a man to whom every one, no matter of what creed or nationality, seemed to offer esteem. When the dinner was over, however, he was altogether too tired to give the matter any serious thought ; and the next morning, as he was very late, and his friend came to his room for him to go to breakfast, he found him the same Richard as ever, — just a kind, every-day friend. And Scott looked in vain for any of that dignified Mr. Ray- mond upon whom all the praises had been showered the night before. Even had he tried, it would have been impossible for him to be any thing but his natural self with Richard Ray- mond, and he was very glad of it ; for one of the hardest things for a real, true-hearted boy to be is an artificial, imi- tation gentleman. When breakfast was over they started for a walk ; but as the sun was well up, and was beating upon the city in a IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 211 way that made it dangerous for them to exercise, Richard proposed that they take advantage of an offer a friend had made him at the dinner, and borrow his large palanquin for the morning. " Then this afternoon we must go to the caves of Ele phanta ; for to-morrow is Sunday, and we should start for Puna the next day. I am anxious to have you stop for a day at my little home there, and we do not know how soon we may hear something that will send us from one end of India to the other. I have put the best agents right upon the track of Dennett ; and we shall overhaul him in a little while, no matter what he is doing, or where he is." " If little Paul were only safe with us, I should be per- fectly happy," said Scott. "Well, in time we shall have him. There is no human doubt of it," replied Richard. " I have had every outlet stopped. I don't believe the man can possibly escape from India. It is a big trap, to be sure; but he is here, and Paul was all right when they landed, about six weeks ago. Chil- dren rarely feel this climate the first year, and I don't believe Paul will." After a short call, they accepted the palanquin, which was called to the court for them. " One of those little carriages hanging on a pole," re- marked Scott, laughing as he saw the palanquin. *' Yes, one of the handsomest and easiest ones I ever saw, except those belonging to natives," returned Richard. "There are not many palanquins to let in Bombay, at the best. They are not so popular as they are in the rest of India, and then the public ones would be so small that we could not both ride in one ; and I want to keep you awake, and make you see the sights." 212 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. "A regular four-horse team, isn't it?" added Scott, as he seated himself in the handsomely carved wood carriage, that was, as he said, hung on a pole, — a long, ornamented pole at each end, — which was supported on the shoulders of four stalwart natives, who certainly seemed to enjoy their work, by the jovial way they started off, singing the great national song of the palanquin - bearers, " He, he, he ! Ho ho, ho ! " . The palanquin was low : one could comfortably sit up in it, but that was all. There was a soft bamboo mat- tress over the floor, with embroidered pillows, so that one could lie down, and even sleep, very comfortably ; and at one end was a little closet, where books for reading, or a lunch, could be carried. Before they started, their host slipped into this closet a little cask that contained some broken ice, and two bottles of soda-water. " If you would only drink something, Mr. Raymond," he said, " we would put some champagne in there instead, that would make your eyes shine ; but it's no use asking you." " Not a bit," replied Richard, laughing, as they were borne away. "Do you really never drink? I thought, till last night THE PALANQUIN. IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 213 at least, that it was only because you did not want to set me an example." Richard laughed heartily at this remark of Scott's ; for such an explanation had never occurred to him. But at last he answered, — "It is a little over ten years since I have tasted a drop of any kind of wine or ale or liquor stronger than soda-water and lemonade." " I thought people had to in this country," said Scott. "They say the water is very unhealthy, and that the heat is much more dangerous, unless one protects his constitution with stimulants." " You heard some old toper say that," responded Richard, smiling. " It was the captain of the steamer," returned Scott. " Well, it is the sentiment of a great many ; and possibly the water does not agree with all. Where it is not good, I do not drink it ; but it does not necessitate my drinking intoxi- cating liquor. And, as for bracing up the constitution, I am very sure that ten Englishmen in India have to leave the country, broken down with over-drinking, to one that is broken down with the heat alone." "But in emergencies you would drink, wouldn't you?" asked Scott doubtfully. "Oh, I'm no temperance preacher, Scott!" said Richard quickly. " I never signed a pledge ; I never talked on tem- perance in public ; and, as for cases of emergencies, why, that's the same as with every thing else. One had better be his own lawgiver. I've noticed that fellows that carried liquor with them when travelling, so as to have it in case of emer- gency, generally succeeded in getting up an emergency before 214 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. they got to the end of the journey ; and those that did not have any very rarely needed it. I never take any with me, unless I am going far up into the mountains, or a long way from any possibility of obtaining it. But look at those three fellows down there ! While we are talking temperance here, we are missing all the sights." BEING SHAVED. "What are they doing?" exclaimed Scott, as he saw the three men, — one sitting on his own heels, close against a low stone fence built out into a court ; while another bent over him, and a third was standing near, and talking with them. " Is the man hurt ? " " Not at all. He is only being shaved." "Shaved in the street?" " Yes, right there in the gutter, or anywhere else." IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 215 ** But the fellow is at work on his forehead," said Scott. "The natives shave their heads and foreheads, and clip the eyebrows ; then the barber washes the face carefully, and cleans and pares the nails on both hands and feet. He can't afford a shop ; and, as the patrons often have no homes that he can go to, he attends to them where rent is the cheapest, which is right in the street." " He makes an all- over job of it, and no mis- take," said Scott. " But it must cost a fortune to be barbered like that." " Yes, that is the worst of it," replied Rich- ard solemnly. " It will cost that poor fellow nearly three cents." " Starvation ! " ex- claimed Scott. " Not at all," laughed Richard. " If he has three or four customers in the course of the day, the barber will be able to support a good-sized family, — say, three wives and ten children." Scott groaned. But a moment later his attention was attracted to another curious individual. "What sort of a fiend is that?" he asked. " A very welcome one, I can assure you," replied Richard. " Not with me," returned Scott decidedly. " He'd have hard work to make himself popular in my books. Look at THE POSTMAN. 2i6 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. that ugly coat, and that Httle round turban and big belt and little breeches and big" shoes, and that reg-ular base-ball club! And what a face ! No, sir ! I'll pass him every time." " But, my dear boy, that is a postman," repeated Richard with mock gravity ; for he knew how eagerly Scott was wait- ing their o-oinp- to Puna, where letters from America that crossed Europe had been forwarded to his home, before their arrival. "Ah!" said Scott, now watching him eagerly. "That makes a deal of difference. He's gotten up pretty well for a postman, after all. I wish he'd come round, and call on me. ' I should think our horses would get tired," he added, as the bearers of the palanquin, coming into a more open street, began to run at a rapid gait, passing several buggies that were going in the same direction, and shouting and laugh- ingf at the drivers. "They are so used to it, that they would keep it up almost all day. The only thing they would not do would be to carry us an inch, if they found that we had a lunch in that closet that had a ham-sandwich or a bit of pork in it." "I admire their taste!" exclaimed Scott. "They'll find no pork in my lunches." "The taste is all very well, but not the extent to which they carry it. If they were our oldest and most trusted ser- vants, and we were twenty miles from anywhere when they found it out, down would go the palki pole, and nothing would induce them to take it up again." "I'd throw away the pork if it came to a pinch," said Scott. " 'Twould do no good ; for the palki, once defiled, would be a long while in getting clean again. I once had a right IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 217 troublesome native neighbor. A wealthy fellow owned a mis- erable hovel near my lawn. He did not fancy foreigners, and would not sell me the property, and would not turn out the tenant of the hut, though he was the vilest fellow imaginable. I tried every way to get him out, but in vain, till one day my butler, who was a Portuguese Christian from Goa, to do me a kindness I suppose, kept watch till the family had all gone out, and, stealing over there with a little pig he had secured for the purpose, he shut him up in the house. When the poor tenants came home, and discovered the pig, they turned about, and slept upon the ground outdoors, and in the morning left every thing just as it was, and went away forever. A year later the old owner sold me the property, for he could not either rent it or give it away to a native." " That beats the piggest stories I ever heard," said Scott, laughing. " But what is this that we are coming to ? " he asked, as the bearers, who had been running very rapidly, began to slacken their pace. They had gone quite beyond the city, and were in open and grass-grown and palm-shaded streets beyond Mazagon. Far in the distance they could see the highest turrets of Malabar Hill ; but it seemed as though they rose up out of a dense tropical jungle, instead of the heart of a great city. And close at hand, nestling in a little grove of almost im- pregnable green, lay a low Hindu temple, on the banks of a little lake. " This is the temple where your Bramhan spends his time just now," answered Richard. " You know we said we should call on him this morning, and thank him for putting you through last night." "That's an awfully pretty pond," observed Scott, as the bearers now came slowly up to the temple. 2l8 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. "It is the sacred tank, where they can bathe, if they wish, before going into the temple to worship." " It would be some fun going to church on a hot day, if you could have a swim thrown in without breaking Sunday," observed Scott, calculating on his estimates between the reli- gions of India and America. " Wonder if there are any fish A HINDU TEMPLE. in there ! " he added. But before Richard could warn him that it would not be precisely in order for a Christian to go fish- ing in one of those Hindu temple-tanks, the fat Bramhan was beside the palanquin, making very low bows. He did not attempt to assist them out of the palki, for there were too many humble Hindus looking on at that moment ; though, if Richard had chosen to tell of it, he could have spoken of more occasions than one when his good friend IN FA LAN Q UIN AND R O W-B OAT. 2 1 9 had taken many a liberty : for the fat Bramhan was a very weak behever in the efficacy of what he professed ; and, in less than a year from that time, he gave up his office at the head of this picturesque little temple, though he had to sacrifice an independent fortune to do it, and went with Mr. Raymond to the American mission-station, to be baptized, and taught the Christian theology, preparatory to becoming the exemplary and humble Christian minister that he is to- day. " I knew you would come ! " he exclaimed eagerly ; " for no one ever spoke the truth who said that Raymondrao Sahib once broke his word. Come into the temple. I have a place saved for you in the outer court. I have a great treat for you. The beautiful Princess Nuna, the wonderful and cele- brated Bramhan girl (whose mother Nuna was born to the noble Shastri Vias, and adopted by the Bramhan family of Yadaba, the rulers of Chandrapur, in the Deccan, and who is now the wife of the ruler), — this her remarkable daughter has been given to the temple service as sacrifice, and is the most beautiful dancer out of the paradise of Indra. She was in Bombay for last night ; and, knowing you would be here to-day, I secured her to dance in the temple. Come quickly," he added, " for she is already dancing." They followed him to the outer court and the position that he had kindly reserved for them, where they obtained a fine view of the figure, upon which all eyes were fixed, — a graceful young girl alone in the centre of the temple, with a bright-colored scarf, and gracefully trailing drapery, a few bright jewels flashing in her ears and about her neck (but less than most Hindu women wore), while her long, glossy black hair hung in light waves far below her waist. She was 220 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. softly moaning a weird melody, and slowly whirling about, and gracefully bending her body in time with the singing. It was not precisely what Scott had expected, but — " It is beautiful, beautiful ! " he whispered. "Yes," replied Mr. Raymond, "just here it is certainly beautiful ; but the murli dancing and the common nautch III I I il |l I II II aiii|ii'ii!i!!!|l!||| -iiilll ^ Wi~ -=J THE MUSICIANS. have been disgraced and degraded by the English in India, till they have lost the charms they once possessed, even for the Hindus ; and, like all the other erand institutions of an- tiquity, they are rapidly becoming demoralized." Sitting beside the altar, ready to take up the service when Nuna should have finished, were three or four other dancers of less celebrity, with their two musicians ; but Nuna sang without even a native accompaniment. IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 221 " What has that old fellow got in his hands ? " asked Scott, looking at one of the musicians, who had just risen to his feet as Nuna began to retreat, and was softly fingering the strings of his instrument. " Which one do you mean ? " questioned Richard. "Why, the fellow that has the floor now," replied Scott. " Oh ! that is what they call a saringi. It is the model of the first violin that was ever made ; for there, again, in spite of all that people say to the contrary, India led the world." Just outside the temple, as they again prepared to enter the palanquin, Scott noticed a curious group of ragged men, two of them sitting on a sort of portable bed with their eyes shut, one of them counting a string of beads, while two stood up at the end of the bed. No two had costumes exactly alike, but they were all as dirty as could well be. "The wind would blow it off, if they got any more dirt on them. What are they anyway } " asked Scott. " Beggars," replied Richard dryly, as he tossed a coin upon the bed. "They look like turtles basking in the sun," said Scott. " They don't seem very miserable." " No, indeed ! they are having a good time," said Mr. Ray- mond. " It is only a profession in India. There is no dis- grace in it." " Can any one be a beggar who wants to?" Scott asked, Richard shrugged his shoulders. " I don't imagine one would have to try very hard ; but the general claim is, that to pass the examination, and receive a diploma as a competent beggar, one must either have the right of birth (that is, his father and mother must have belonged to the class before 222 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. him), or he must be a superannuated rehgious official, who is unable to support himself at the altar. But they stretch that a good deal, I fancy." At a little distance down the road, they passed a small open square, where a dozen or more children were drawn up in line, and gravely saluted them as they went by. " What Is the matter there ? " asked Scott. SCHOOLBOYS SALUTING. " The two men behind are teachers, and the boys are scholars of a private school," replied Mr. Raymond. "A pretty set of scholars!" observed Scott. "There's not one of them a dozen years old." "That may all be," returned Richard. "But I'll venture, there are not three among them that cannot repeat the mul- tiplication-table up to twenty times twenty without a mistake, and as fast as their tongues will run." IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 22' " Are there no larger schools than that ? " Scott asked, as they passed out of sight. " Oh, yes, indeed ! any number of them ; and smaller ones too, where a few of the children of the wealthy are educated by a priest. They send the little fellows while they are very young ; for they have a deal to learn, and but little time to learn it in. Many of the boys are married before UNDER A PEIEST. they are as old as you are ; and the Hindu girls are married before they are ten, and sometimes even in infancy." "Were there any girls in that crowd?" Scott asked. "The girls don't often go to school in India, Scott. They are educated at home, in the branches that become a wife, as they suppose ; and reading and writing are not fashionable for the women. They do not consider them lady-like accom- plishments." 124 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. " I remember hearing mother talk about that," said Scott. " Mother's a great woman on the mission among the women and girls of India. But the missions have schools for girls, haven't they ? " " There are several large mission-schools for both boys and girls, and Sunday schools beside, where they are taught. If you like, we'll go to the mission services to-morrow." " I should like it above all things ! " exclaimed Scott. "And 1 must take notes on every thing, if it is proper; for I promised my pastor that I'd write him a letter about the foreign missionaries and their work. He's a little wild on the subject. It'll seem like ' The Missionary Herald,' won't it? But I can't help that, I think I can do it, if I keep my eyes open." They started again at a rapid pace for the hotel ; for it was approaching noon, and the excursion to the caves of Elephanta takes more than half a day, unless every thing is favorable. "That Reverend Ka — Ka — whatever his name is, is a very obliging man," said Scott. " Last night and this morning he has given you a chance to see the religious caste of Hindu women to the very best advantage. What do you think of them ? " inquired Richard. "Why, they're not bad-looking — females, when they're in full dress," Scott answered, hesitating as to whether he should call them girls or women, they were all so very small. " But I think it's more the fancy way they have of getting them- selves up, and the very graceful motions, that make them seem pretty. When I get home I am going to rig Bess up something like this style. I think she'd make a stunning little Hindu. She has an awfully pretty way of walking, that IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 225 ain't a bit like other girls that go bumping along like jump- ing-jacks. She moves all over, and nowhere in particular, just as these women do," "Then, you don't like the Hindu faces?" asked Richard. "The face is all right," replied Scott; "but they spoil it making so many holes in it. See that woman, now ! " he exclaimed, pointing to a daintily dressed Bramhan woman going by. She had an unusual number of ornaments for one who is walking in the street, and proved a good example for Scott. "If she were my sister or my mother, I should want to kiss her sometimes, but ugh ! Think of having to get round all that stuff before I could find her lips. Do they ever kiss in India?" " I suppose they would take those nose-rings off, if they were going to make a real business of it," said Richard. "There's a pretty costume ! " exclaimed Scott, pointing out a woman with a snow-white sari, or Hindu shawl, thrown about her. " She is perhaps in mourning," replied Mr. Raymond. "White for mourning?" queried Scott. "What in the world is that for ? Don't they know what is right ? " "Why do people in America wear black, Scott?" " Why, because it is solemn." "What makes it solemn?" " Because it's mourning, I suppose," said Scott, laughing. " Didn't you say this was a temple ? " he said to Mr. Ray- mond, as he stood that afternoon in the main gallery of the caves of Elephanta, with its corridors and arches, a hundred and thirty feet square. "Yes, this is a temple. Many claim, that, ages ago, the Jains started it. It was literally excavated out of the mountain- 226 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. side. Do you see, the floor and the pillars and caps and the arched roof are all of one single block of stone ? And do you see that figure of Bramha there, behind the bas-relief of Siva? That is the marriage of Siva and the goddess Parvati ; and that figure of Bramha, you see, has three heads. CAVES OF ELEPHANTA. If the Jain theory be true, it is one of the earliest records in the world, of any idea of a Trinity, or, perhaps better, a triad." " How do they know that it is a marriage, if it was made so long ago ? " inquired Scott. " Simply because Parvati is standing upon the right hand of Siva ; and no woman is allowed to stand upon the right hand of her husband, except during the marriage ceremony." " They must have enjoyed picking as much as we do whittling, to have dug out all this/' observed Scott, looking IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 227 about him. " It's a big thing-, but I wouldn't give a cent for it as a church. Did you ever attend a service here ? " " Just one," repHed Richard ; " but not the kind of one you mean. I attended the dinner given to the Prince of Wales here a little while ago." MAS,£IAaE OF SIVA. Scott drew a long breath. '* Did they dinner that fellow here?" he asked, and, turning with a sigh, added, "I must make a note of that," and demurely walked out of the old temple. At the ledge entrance, however, his gravity was somewhat shaken by looking up suddenly, to face one of the most peculiar specimens that had ever crossed his path. " Great Caesar's ghost ! " he groaned, and sat down on the low stone walh 228 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. Richard looked at the object that had caused the shock, and then, with mock anxiety, he asked, — "My dear young friend, what is it that perplexes you?" " What in the world was that ? " asked Scott, helplessly pointing after the figure that had now nearly disappeared. " A man," replied Mr. Raymond quietly. " But, merciful sakes, what a man ! " groaned Scott. " It was a walk- inor skeleton." " Just about as near it as one could come without hitting," replied Richard. "But you would be astonished to find out how far from a skeleton that fellow is in strength." His skin was very dark, and- it certainly looked as though there was nothing under it but bones ; and over the joints where it must bend occasionally, it lay in dry, leathery folds, " He looked for all the world like a rhinoceros," said Scott. The man had nothing on but a dirty cloth about the loins, A KATWADI. IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 229 and another twisted once round his head, leaving a mass of absokitely uncombed hair above it and below it. The hair was black at the roots, but dyed red at the ends. " He is a full-blooded muni, — one of the kind that you have probably read about, who sometimes have held up an arm till it became stiff in that position, and could never come down again; who hung themselves up by iron hooks thrust through their muscles. They will lie down, and apparently die, and remain so for a month and more, with their flesh cold and hard, and their joints stiff. The heart will stop beating, for all that the most elaborate medical instruments can determine, and there is no observable breathing. But, when the time is up, they wake up, and go about their business. There are munis, too, who have fasted for forty-five days." " You don't mean gone absolutely without any thing to eat ! " exclaimed Scott, interrupting him. " Yes, I mean exactly that." " Well, I should almost think that man had just been doing it," said Scott, " But what was that painting on his bony chest ? " " That represented the two great principals of Hindu theology, — the Preserver and Destroyer." " I thought there were three principals. Is it fair to be partial to the two, and leave out the Creator ? " asked Scott. " Bramha, the creator, is rarely worshipped or represented alone. There is no idol of Bramha in all India, and no prayer is ever offered to him. He is supposed to have no . form, except when a part of the trinity, as you saw the three- headed god in the cave. He is in every thing, and every thing is Bramha." " I should think they would be careful, then, how they 230 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. handle things in general," said Scott, as they walked on toward the boat that was awaiting them, to take them back to Bom- bay. " You think just right, Scott. Even my little boy Moro will not so much as tread upon a bug in the street, no matter how much trouble it costs him to prevent it. They will not eat meat for that reason," "Are all munis like that fellow at the caves?" Scott asked, as they stepped again upon the wharf in Bombay. "Not by any means," answered Mr. Raymond. "They are of all varieties, from the gentlemanly soldier to such a vagabond as this one. Why, one of the fiercest leaders of the mutiny, one of the strongest soldiers of that Sepoy rebel- lion, was Dhondaram, a muni ; and to-day he is an outlaw, for whom England offers ten thousand dollars. We have plenty of time, and on the way to the hotel we will drive round to the Hindu temple by the Byculla. You can see any number of them there. It is the great camping-ground for the munis that come on to the island in the course of their pilgrim- ages," Mr. Raymond directed the driver of a buggy they engaged, and, seating himself, continued, — " They are forever moving. They make tremendous pil- grimages. They never do a day's work, but they harden themselves to wonderful endurance. They torture and deform themselves, on the principle that suffering is meritorious, and then go about, and allow the public to support them, showing their marks as credentials, I saw a muni once, measuring the entire distance across India, from one side to the other, by lying down, and stretching his hands as far before him as possible, and making a mark with his fingers. Then, putting IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 231 his toes to that mark, he would He down again ; and so on for the fourteen hundred miles." Scott whistled, and stretched himself a little more com- fortably in the buggy. " It makes my back ache," he remarked with a sigh. " Look there ! " added Mr. Raymond, pointing to a group ^K^^ WANDERING MUNIS. of men in various costumes, resting about the roots and trunk of an old tree in the open parade-ground. " Those are munis, and they are not bad-looking fellows." "They're a bad lot!" said Scott with a shiver, — "worse than our gypsies, I believe. But do they bruise themselves that way just to make begging pay?" " They pretend that they do it for religion," ^replied his friend. " And I fancy a good deal of it is for the attention 232 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. and glory they get. They very often make an oath of silence for some number of years, and refuse to speak a word, or pay any attention to any one, in that time. Some of them used to have a trick of going round stark naked, pretending that they were too holy for clothes ; but the English Govern- ment has been arresting them lately for it, and now they are more careful." "They must like something or other about it more than I do," remarked Scott. "Well, here is an example; and you can judge for your- self what the fellow liked. There is a muni in North India, who, a few years ago, had gone through every manner of self-torture that he could hear of or invent. His name was so great, that he would draw dense crowds after him where- ever he went. At last, to get up something new, he had a chair made, so that, as he sat in it, every part of his body would touch only on the points of nails; and in this chair he was carried about the country. A wealthy Hindu, who wanted to make atonement for his sins, and lay up a large balance in heaven, offered this muni a beautiful house and large gar- den, and agreed to pay all the bills that he would contract for his personal support, so long as he would live there. The muni accepted, and spent three months in the most luxurious seclusion. But that was all he could stand of it. He gave back the house, gave up the support, ordered his chair of nails and his bearers, and at once started upon a tour of the whole of India." Just then the buggy stopped at the temple-gate ; and, going into the court, they saw, as Richard had predicted, a most remarkable array of the holy men, in all attitudes, pre- paring their suppers, eating, smoking, drinking even, and IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 233 sleeping. Some of them were as nearly naked as they dared to be. Some were covered with rags in an almost unlimited quantity. Some had gashes and scars all over them, and all sorts of deformities, and some were satisfied with fantastic painting. "What a place this would be to turn P. T. Barnum into ! " exclaimed Scott. " Wouldn't he have fun picking out speci- mens ? " They only stopped for a moment, for it was growing late; and in a short time they were seated at the supper-table, with Moro and Sayad behind them, and ravenous appetites urging them on. "I believe I could eat Esofali's French cooking with carda- mom-seed sauce to-night," Scott remarked ; " and the cook into the bargain." " You'd have to shut your eyes before you began on the cook, or you would never digest him, if he is any thing like the rest of the cooks of India," returned Richard, laughing. 234 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. CHAPTER XV. A HOME AMONG THE HINDUS. 1 1 1 HE result of the Sunday among the mission churches and Sunday schools Scott reported to his pastor in the following letter, not re-written a dozen times, try- ing to make it falsely grand, but the result of notes, taken during the day, on what he thought his pastor wanted : — " The mission chapel of the American mission among the Marathis in Bombay is situated in one of the busiest districts of the city. Along the street it fronts upon, there pours an incessant stream of Hindus of all castes, — Mussulmans of different sects, Par- sis with their ugly hats, Jews of more than one tribe, Chinese with their pig-tails, Africans, and Europeans. The Christian service is conducted much as it is in our own church, only the congregation looks very funny. The church numbers about sixty-five members, and has a native pastor of Bramhan birth. " The Sunday school meets at nine in the morning. There are about two hundred scholars. Most of the children are native Chris- tians ; but there are some Hindus, too, who go to the day-schools of the mission. They use the same ' International ' series that we use at home. " The language, both in church and Sunday school, is the Mara- thi. It sounds very funny to hear the children singing, both their music and poetry are arranged so differently from ours. At first th'ey had to translate our hymns, and set them again to our music, and now there are many of these in use ; but I can imagine how odd the arrangement must have seemed from the way that theirs ■ A HOME AMONG THE HINDUS. 235 strikes me. Some years ago, however, a young man was converted who had great talent in writing poetry, and understood music thor- oughly. So he began writing Christian hymns, and setting them to Marathi metres. They are liked very much by the native Christians, and even people outside like them very much too. The superin- tendent in the Sunday school had them sing ' Come to Jesus ' for me, first to the old music, that almost made me cry, it was so much like something from home : then they sang one of Sankey's pieces ; but they did not do that so well. Then they sang some of their own poet's work. "The classes went on just as we do; but some of the scholars were almost naked, and did not seem to have cultivated a very in- timate acquaintance with soap and water. They were the Hindu children, — pupils of the day-schools. Their teachers go out on Sunday morning, and collect them, and bring them in. Otherwise, perhaps, they would not come at all ; for they are very careless about time, and, even if they wanted to come, they would most likely be a half-hour or so late. " The preaching is at four in the afternoon ; then at five the missionaries and native teachers go out into the broad porch of the church, and there they sing for a few minutes, and then begin to talk to any who will stop and listen. They are very often inter- rupted by people with absurd questions, who only want to break up the meeting, and raise a laugh. Then they sometimes preach in the open air, and sometimes even in English. "At one place in Bombay the missionaries began preaching in the street, near where there was a large public school, and just about as the school was to be dismissed. It was found that the boys would listen for about twenty minutes, and then begin to make such a noise that it was impossible to go on. Once a missionary asked if there was any one there who understood English. ' Yes, sir : I do,' resounded from different parts. 'Very well,' said the missionary: 'if you will keep quiet, I will talk to you in English.' — 'All right, sir ! Go ahead, sir ! ' they shouted ; and he preached there in Eng- 236 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. lish once a week for several months. They were tolerably well be- haved and quiet. " The missionaries tell a host of interesting stories. The Bram- han pastor I spoke of, while he was a rigid Hindu, was hired to teach in the mission-school. He taught because he received pay for it ; but he hated the Christian books, till at last he broke down, and himself became the very good Christian minister that he is to-day. " One day an old robber and murderer came into church when the missionary was talking on, ' The blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin.' After the service he came up, and timidly asked if that blood could cleanse from the sin of a murder. And when the missionary said 'Yes,' he went on, 'Of five murders .■' Of ten .'' Of twenty.''' And on the spot he gave himself to God, and lived and died a good, honest Christian. " The number of Christians has doubled in India in the past ten years ; and a missionary told me, that, if the same rate were kept up that has been going on from 1861 to 1871, India would be a Christian nation in less than a century, but that, instead of going on at the same rate, the rate itself is constantly increasing. " I'm afraid this is not a complete letter ; but you know I have only been here one Sunday, and a few days beside ; and oh, there is such a wonderful world to see, that I am thoroughly bewildered, and hardly seem to know any thing ! " "Mercy!" Scott gasped, when he had finished. "I feel like a missionary myself. I wonder if he will think I have been putting on airs ! I hope not ; but I've been using some long words, and stating facts like a newspaper." He folded the letter, and, after directing the envelope, put it in, and was in the act of wetting the stamp on his tongue, when Richard stopped him. " If you do that, you'll have to take it to the office your- self, Scott ; for the boy thinks that saliva makes it unclean, and that he would defile himself to touch it." A HOME AMONG THE HINDUS. 237 Scott laughed, and wet the stamp with water. Early Monday morning they were on their way southward into the mountains, and the cool, bracing air of Puna, The moment the cars started there was immediate relief; for the first-class carriages of the English trains in India have been made expressly to combat the heat, which is sometimes in- tolerable, especially when running through the dry and open sand-plains. It was an endless deliofht to Scott to sit in the window, that was shaded from the sun by a wooden awning, and watch the constantly changing view. Sometimes they were dashing past old ruins, draped in parasitic vines, and sometimes beau- tiful hillsides lay about them, without a sign of human life. "How many people did you say there were in India?" asked Scott. " About two hundred and fifty million, — more than in all Europe and Siberia," replied Mr. Raymond. '* There's a good deal of vacant land, after all," remarked Scott. " On these mountain-sides, yes, except as they use it for pasturage and hunting ; but there are also broad plains to the north that support over seven hundred and fifty souls to the square mile, which is the largest average population in the world," " Well, there are two things that I don't understand about India," said Scott reflectively. " You are doing better than most, if there are only two," replied Richard, laughing. "But what are they?" "Well, why do the women color their teeth and finger- nails, and what makes the butter so white ? " Scott answered abruptly. 238 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. " One is because they want to, and the other Is because they can't help It," replied Richard solemnly. "Well, which is which?" asked Scott. " They color their finger-nails and their toe-nails with red dye, chiefly because it is the fashion ; and some of the women, but not all by any means, stain their teeth black when they are married, professedly because they say they do not wish to attract the attention of any other men : so they miake themselves look ugly." "I hope they succeed," observed Scott emphatically. "They might," replied Richard, "but that so many do it, that the men become used to it, and think them just as pretty that way as any other. But in the case of the butter, that is so white, because it is made of BufTaloes' milk, as there are very few cows in India." " I thought it was lard at first, and I did not eat any till after we went to Esofall's ; and his was so much worse, that it made the hotel butter seem very fair." " If you had tasted the butter at Esofali's, you would not have thought it bad. It was not our butter at all, but ghi, or clarified butter, that we had there, — a preparation made of the milk itself, instead of cream, that the natives are very fond of; and I quite agree with them." " Perhaps I shall some day," thought Scott doubtfully. It was night when they reached Puna ; and Scott had little opportunity to see the beautiful, and at the same time miserable, mountain city. Mr. Raymond's large coach and two fiery horses were at the station, waiting to hurry them away as soon as the servants could finish falling on their faces, and kissing their master's feet. But Scott kept his eyes open, and saw all that there was to see. A HOME AMONG THE HINDUS. 239 " Look there ! " he exclaimed, as a weird group appeared In the hght. of a torch held by one of the Hindus. " Is that a new-fangled bathing-tank, or is it only a moving drinking- fountain ? " . " A litde of both, and not exactly either," replied Richard. " That is the house of a Bramhan ; and those fellows are A BRAMHAN AND PILGRIMS. pilgrims, who thought it best to stop on their way, wherever they are going, to get a touch of holy water ; quenching their thirst, and washing their sins away, and washing their hands and faces, all at the same time. They have made up a small purse for the Bramhan ; and, while his servant holds the torch, he is administering the blessing." "Would he give me a dose, if I should go up there?" asked Scott. 240 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. " Go Up and try," replied Richard, ordering his coachman to stop. "I beUeve I'd rather be excused," said Scott ; but, seeing Mr. Raymond laughing at him, he changed his mind, and, getting out of the carriage, made his way up to the platform upon which the priest stood. Seeing a white person approaching, the crowd of pilgrims fell back in horror, lest they should be defiled while engaged in their ablutions. Scott hesitated for a moment, for the face of the Bramhan was not so re-assuring as that of Kashi- nath had been : but, gathering his courage, he went up as he had seen the native ; and, laying a piece of silver on the platform, he knelt, and put his hands to his mouth in the form of a cup. The priest looked at him in astonishment for a moment ; then, seeing only the half-laughing face of a boy, he simply smiled at the presumption, and deliberately emptied the entire contents of the kuja all over him. " You wretch ! " gasped Scott ; and for an instant he was on the point of flying at the Bramhan, holy as he was, with his clinched fists. But his eye caught the piece of silver he had laid on the platform ; and, thinking his own coin the best to pay him in, he picked it up, and, with a shout, ran away. The Bramhan only laughed over the joke; and, dripping with water, Scott crawled back into the carriage again, where he found Richard also convulsed with laughter. " I came within an inch of breaking his neck," he said defiantly. " And I almost wish I had." " It was a little better not to, under the circumstances," replied Richard ; " for the person of a Bramhan is very sacred, and I fear your wanderings in India would have come to a speedy close." A HOME AMONG THE HINDUS. 241 " Is a Bramhan so much better than any one else ? " asked Scott. " Decidedly," said Richard without hesitation. " Any one who strikes a Bramhan is sure to become a hog as soon as he dies." " Sooner be a hog than a Bramhan, any day," muttered Scott sullenly ; for his wet clothes were very uncomfortable. " I suppose those fellows are so very holy, that they never do any thing wrong themselves," he added, as the horses started again. "That is precisely the case," said Richard. " They are so holy, that they do about as they please. Sin runs off from them like water from a duck's back. What would defile any other caste in India will really do them no harm at all. At any rate, the people believe so ; and that is all that is wanted." " They're a good-for-nothing set anyway," Scott grumbled. " You're mistaken there, Scott," said Richard ; " for, really, they have been the sharpest and most profound scholars in the world. If they were not held back by their bigotry, we should see wonderful things in science accomplished by them. It is to these Bramhans that India is indebted for all her profound knowledge ages ago. They are very sharp and shrewd, many of them ; and a missionary almost dreads seeing them come in to his meetings." " Do they attend Christian churches ? " exclaimed Scott, again becoming interested. " Certainly they do, and some of them are very constant attendants." " I should think they would be afraid of being converted." " On the contrary, many of them enjoy it ; and there are 242 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. some Bramhans who know almost as much about the Bible as a good many Christians. They are very fond of getting into arguments, too, after the services are ended. I was once at a mission sermon, where the text was " Faith." The mis- sionary had been very earnest ; and a fine-faced Bramhan, who had listened intently through it all, rose as soon as the bene- diction was pronounced, and, in the politest way, asked if he might say a word upon the sermon. I saw the missionary looked very sober ; but as every one stopped, and appeared in no hurry to go out, he could find no excuse, and had to give the permission. "'Faith is very good,' said the Bramhan; 'but no faith is better. See how the monkey carries her young. She does not trouble herself to touch them. They cling about her neck with a death grip. She could not even shake them off if she tried. She can go where she will with them. That is faith. You are the little monkey. But see how the cat carries her little ones. She takes them tenderly in her mouth. She does not hurt them, or drop them. They are perfectly safe, and have nothing to do but let her carry them. That is no faith. That is better. I am the kitten.' " " That was a sticker, sure," said Scott, somewhat down- cast to see any thing that in any way belonged to him trodden on. "What could the parson say to that?" " He got out of it better than I thought. He grew red in the face, as the audience applauded the Bramhan, and he saw all his earnestness worse than lost ; but suddenly a happy thought struck him, and very quietly he said, ' O Bramhan, you are very wise. You should not defame yourself in that way. There are idiots and helpless fellows that have no strength, and must be carried ; and, thank God, there are cats. A HOME AMONG THE HINDUS. 243 to carry them ! But there are also strong, brave, and able men, who do not need to be pushed through the world, but can cling for themselves. You, my friend, are brave enough and strong enough to be something more than a helpless kitten.' " " Good one ! " cried Scott. " I can see that old Bramhan going out with his tail between his legs." " And so can I," returned Richard, laughing. " And so there are monkeys here too, are there ? I had not seen any, and had forgotten my geography. I meant to ask you." "There are a few," replied Richard very gravely. "Only a few?" repeated Scott with a sigh. "I was in hopes we should see them as thick as they are in story- books." " A few million, I mean, or probably a few hundred mil- lion would be nearer right," replied Richard. "They are very sacred animals here, and run about the cities even, and do as they please everywhere, and even have temples erected for their especial benefit, where they are boarded free of charge. You will see one if we go to Benares." " It must be fun," said Scott. "It is fun for a time, but you will soon have too much of It. They are as troublesome as the squirrels in Beverly. A friend of mine, a European physician, was particularly well patronized by the wretches. They would come into his win- dows every time they were left open. They would eat up every thing that was eatable, and spoil what was not." "Why didn't he kill them?" asked Scott. " He had too many native servants, who would have re- ported it, and won him the ill will of the natives. But he 244 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. took a better way. There was one big monkey In particular, who was the most famihar. He would sit on the limb of a huge tree, just outside the doctor's office-window. He would THE DOCTOK'S PATIENT. contentedly scratch himself, and watch all that was going on ; and if any thing was left on a plate, and the room was vacated for a moment, it was sure to be gone. One morning the doctor saw the monkey watching, and quietly emptied a large bottle of Brandeth's liver-pills on to the plate. He A HOME AMONG THE HINDUS. 245 pretended to eat some of them, and then went out. The monkey watched him drive away as usual ; and a half-hour later, when the doctor came back, the plate was entirely empty. He lived there for three years after that, and told me that he never again knew of a monkey coming into the house." " Good enough ! " exclaimed Scott, laughing. " But I don't suppose there is really any danger from them, is there ? They would never hurt any one." "That depends," replied Richard. "When there are a lot of them together, or when they are offended at something, they will sometimes attack a man. When I was seventeen years old, I was employed on one of the surveys for a rail- road in India. It was a very rough life that we led, with a guard of English soldiers to protect us ; and we had to go well armed ourselves, for there were many attacks from wild beasts, as well as offended natives. We did not mind much about dress, and were rather ragged before we had finished our work. All we cared for was to protect our heads from the sun. After the day's work was done, the youngest of us used to make raids, contrary to the officers' orders, in search of cocoanuts and other fruit. I was out on an expe- dition once, with a large mastiff belonging to one of the officers. He was an ugly fellow, but was very fond of me. I saw three elegant cocoanuts lying on the ground, just in the edge of a jungle. The dog would have made a fuss if there had been a tiger round, so I felt safe enough in mak- ing a dive for them ; but I had no sooner made the leap, than all of a sudden it seemed as though a dozen packs of fire-crackers were all set off at once, all about me, and I found myself literally surrounded by a host of monkeys. I 246 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. don't imagine they would have hurt me, but that ' Spit,' the dog, was mad that he was taken off his guard, and snapped at the tail of one of them. He grave a howl, and instantly the whole lot were upon us. I had X^ my clearing-axe in my hand, but it was absolutely all I could do to keep it swinging rieht and left among them ; for they even caught my arm, and held my feet so that I could not move, and clung about my waist, where I could not touch them ; and they could very easily have eot the best of me, but that Spit used his teeth with a vengeance; and the cries of pain from the wounded frightened the rest, and they began to draw back a little into the trees." "Did you get your cocoanuts?" asked Scott. ALL FOE THREE COCOANUTS. A HOME AMONG THE HINDUS. 247 " Yes, I got my cocoanuts. I thought I had earned them, and I would not go back without them. But you may be sure that when I had them safe in my arms, I made good time out of the jungle," Just then the carriage whirled into a grove, through two high gate-posts ; and the rattle of wheels was lost on the soft, yielding roadway. " Here we are at last!" exclaimed Richard, as they drew up before a massive veranda of heavy stone pillars and stucco arches, and a smooth, stone floor, with a broad, curtained door at the back, and two deep windows. There were a dozen servants standing by the veranda to welcome Mr. Raymond, and two colored lanterns were hung in the porch. " This is a grand old spot ! " Scott exclaimed enthusias- tically, as he alighted. " It was the home of a wealthy Mussulman once," replied Richard, in a voice that caused Scott to look up suddenly ; and he thought he detected tears in Mr. Raymond's eyes as he welconied his home and his old servants again : so he at once turned away, and walked slowly down the veranda. Early in the morning, after the chotct hazri that Richard had spoken of, the two went out for a walk through the grove and garden. A more gorgeous spot Scott was sure he had never seen. " I don't wonder you love it ! " he cried. " But why have you never told me how beautiful your home was ? " " I am very glad if you like it," Richard replied, without answering the question. Just behind the house they came out upon a superb little lake. 248 OUR BOYS IN INDIA, Scott gave one cry of joy, and stood enraptured. All about the border drooped beautiful flowering shrubs. Just behind them rose trees with dense green foliage, filled with fruit such as Scott had never seen before, but often read of; and again behind them towered the long, slender trunks and bushy heads of the palm-trees. All this was reflected in the water ; but, as if that were not sufficient, the whole surface was dotted with brilliant aquatic leaves and blossoms, where, predominant, was the sacred tala, growing up from the coolest, deepest depths of the lake, a tiny green stem, till it reached the surface, then shooting heavenward its bright leaves, tint- ing the whole surface of the water. At one end of this lake was a flight of rough marble steps, all ivy-grown, leading down into the water. " Here is a fishing-pond, where you may drop your line as often as you like," said Richard, smiling at Scott's enthu- siasm. "A fishing-pond!" said Scott reprovingly. "Don't call a beautiful spot like that an old mud fishing-pond. What is it, Mr. Raymond?" "It is the marble-bedded tank that supplies the house and the servants' huts with water. It is the salvation of crowded India, that all the natives but the vilest of the breed of fakirs, and a few in the mountains, are forever bathing. They will never even eat in the morning till they have bathed certain parts of their bodies. If I were a native, now, I should call this a sacred tulao ; but, being only a Christian (as they say), I can only call it my water-tank." " It's pretty enough either way," said Scott. " But I should say the natives have the best of you there. A tank makes a fellow think of an old attic and musty water." 250 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. Extending back from the house, on either side of this tank, were the huts of the servants ; for none of them ever sleep in the house of the master. They have famihes of their own ; and, except as they may steal more or less from the mansion, they support themselves and their families, both in food and clothes, out of their earnings. " It must be rather expensive, running a house with so many servants," Scott remarked, as they walked past the line of low huts, where the front wall was only a bam- boo matting, that through the day was drawn back, letting the sun- light literally stream through the whole house, in front of which extended a platform of smooth stone, on which a dozen naked little children were playing, and their mothers were cooking the breakfast or working. " It would be expensive in America," replied Richard ; " but here the servant costs almost nothing. Do you see that fellow on the bullock yonder, and the one beside him ? They are my bhistis, or water-carriers. The place is very large, so I have to have two; and those clumsy things on the animal's back are goat-skins, in which they are going to draw water at the tank. They carry all the water for the gardeners, and THE WATER-CARillERS. A HOME AMONG THE HINDUS. 251 all the water for the baths and the table and the cook. You noticed, perhaps, that the legs of all the tables and chairs in the house stood in little metal cups?" " I did, indeed," said Scott. " And it was only reading my letters from home that put it out of my head to ask what the matter was. You may think me pretty inquisitive." " That is one way to learn," replied Richard, smiling. " Another is, to go to college. But those cups the bhisti has to fill with water every morning. It keeps the white ants from getting into the furniture. If they once get in, they are as much worse than American moths as can be. They will literally eat up every thing, — the wood, the upholster- ing, the stuffing. They will grind it all to powder. Then the bhisti has to sprinkle the Kus-Kus mats before the doors and windows, through the dry weather, to keep the air in the house damp and cool. And all the poor fellows get for it is a dollar a week, to feed and clothe themselves and their families." " It doesn't cost him much to clothe the children," said Scott, looking at the ragged little dhuti that was twisted about the loins of the oldest child in sight, — a boy of about nine years, — while the rest of the entirely naked little fellows were playing in the sun. " But what's the use of having so many servants anyway ? " he added. "That is a matter of necessity," replied Richard. "From their mode of life, the Hindus have not the strength and endurance that we have, as a rule. Nationally they are a slow and lazy set : so it has come about that they have taken to doing just one thing, whatever that is ; and their children have grown up to do just that, and nothing else, till it is an actual division of religious caste with them ; and those who 252 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. are born bhistis will die bhistis, and the boys that wait on us will do no other work. The cook will not wait on the table ; the little brooms, as we call the fellow that sweeps, will not wash our clothes ; and the dhobi, or washerman, will not cook, or do any thing else. He washes by beating the clothes unmercifully between two stones, in cold water ; and he tears them so every time, that we have to keep a tailor in our list of house servants." " Why doesn't he use a tub and scrubbing-board ? " asked Scott. " Oh ! his father and grandfather never did, and he says what was right for them is right for him." " But I would make him, if I wanted him to," said Scott. " You would have harder work than you think for. By a long struggle I have succeeded in introducing some of our notions, but it was almost more than they were worth." "Why was that?" " W^hy, because, the moment I suggested some new style, the servant would always object to it. He would think there was some evil in it, or would fear being defiled in some way. If I insisted, or brought it about in any way, by hiding his old implements, he would sometimes consent ; but if he hurt himself with the new thing, or if any thing happened to him or his family, — if one of his children fell sick, — he would instantly declare that it was because he had used it, and would leave my service." " I'd say ' Good riddance,' and get another," remarked Scott spitefully. "That's easier said than done, my boy. For he would instantly spread it among his friends and caste, charging all his sorrow to the infernal machine and to me ; and several A HOME AMONG THE HINDUS. 253 times I have had to give it up, or send to Goa for Portu- guese Christians to come down and do the work." "What is that fellow doing?" Scott asked, as they passed one of the little huts, at some distance from the house, where .