The Leonard Library 

College 

Toronto 



STACKS + 

Register No 1 *) | A O. 



PRESENTED TO THE LIBRARY 
OF 





^ 



Wr* 7*+, **-. 



DAUGHTERS OF DARKNESS 
IN SUNNY INDIA 




The Girls carry the Pots of Water 



See Page lit 



Daughters of Darkness 
In Sunny India 



By 
BEATRICE M. HARBAND 

Author of " Under the Shadow of Dur gamma" etc. 




New York Chicago Toronto 

FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY 

London and Edinburgh 

PRINTED IN U. 8. A. 



Copyright 1903 by 

FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY 

(April) 



V 



New York: 158 Fifth Avenue 
Chicago : 63 Washington Street 
Toronto : 27 Richmond Street, W 
London : 21 Paternoster Square 
Edinburgh : 30 St. Mary Street 



To the living memory of my dearly loved mother 
whose ministry of suffering taught me amongst many 
other lessons that : 

" They also serve 
Who only stand and wait " 

/ dedicate these facts and fancies culled from my short 
period of service amongst the women and children of 
Heathen India. 



" TTie land of darkness, and the shadow of death ; A land of 
darkness as darkness itself; and of the shadow of death, without 
any order, and where the light is as darkness." THE BOOK OF 
JOB. 

" If one look into the land, behold darkness and sorrow, and 
the light is darkened in the heavens thereof- and behold trouble, 
and darkness, dimness of anguish. 1 1 THE PROPHET ISAIAH. 



Preface 



THIS little volume is sent forth in the 
hope that the true story of some of the 
sufferings of India s daughters may ap 
peal to the sympathetic hearts of the more fa 
voured daughters of lands where Jesus, the light 
of the world rules and reigns. 

Every fact I have related has been recorded as 
faithfully as possible. The fancies are few and 
far between, but of necessity they have had to be 
introduced in making an harmonious whole from 
incidents culled from the missionary career of the 
late Rev. Edwin Lewis, Mrs. Lewis and myself. 

In the benign silvery haired Mr. Burton dis 
coursing to the shepherds by the wayside, and 
instructing Lingappa by night, many of my 
readers, especially those in Australia and New 
Zealand, will soon recognize the late Rev. E. 
Lewis of Bellary. His experiences that I have 
woven into my story have had to be written from 
memory of the thrilling tales that he himself 
related to me during the few months that I had 
the privilege of living near him and Mrs. Lewis, 
in my early days at Bellary, South India. 

I jwould fain have lingered longer with my 
7 



8 Preface 

friends and gone on to relate some stirring 
episodes in their lives after they set out in the 
New Way; but it was on behalf of the dark, 
ignorant, superstitious, enslaved Hindu and Mo 
hammedan women that I first took up my pen. 
Many of their sorrows arise from sufferings that 
may not be touched upon in a book of this de 
scription. These sufferings are the natural out 
come of a land where the ruling deities are the 
creations of the minds of evil men wholly given 
over to the works of the flesh. 

If, by the reading of my little story, but one 
heart be stirred to a life of consecration for Christ 
and India, I shall rejoice to know that my labour 
of love has not been in vain. 

BEATRICE M. HARBAND. 



Contents 

I. A MUSSULMAN TRICKED BY A MER 
CHANT ; . . ..... n 

II. THE SHAKING DEVIL 21 

III. ABU TALEB . . 30 

IV. THE FAMILY DEBT ... . . 41 
V. A FOREIGN VISITOR 51 

VI. HER CHILDREN BY ADOPTION . . 63 
VII. "Goos WHICH SEE NOT, NOR 

HEAR, NOR KNOW " . . . . 76 

VIII. OSMAN S SUCCESS 89 

IX. THE VOICE OF CONSCIENCE . . . 102 

X. THE UNKNOWN FUTURE . . . . 113 

XI. WILLING HEARTS 121 

XII. THE MUSSULMAN AGAIN .... 130 

XIII. AZRAIL, THE ANGEL OF DEATH . . 141 

XIV. ABU S FAVOURITE WIFE . . . 153 
XV. SOWING THE SEED 163 

XVI. THE GOOD SHEPHERD . \ , . . 175 
9 



lo Contents 

XVII. BY DAY AND BY NIGHT . . . 184 

XVIII. FATIMAH S GUEST 194 

XIX. SUNDARI S VENTURE .... 204 

XX. FREEDOM 211 

XXI. A SONG AT MIDNIGHT . . . 221 

XXII. THE DIPAVALI 233 

XXIII. LAKSHMI S FAVOUR . . . . 243 

XXIV. WHAT SUNDARI KNEW . . . 253 
XXV. RUTHAMMA S STORY . . . . 261 

XXVI. To RAMASWAMI S BUNGALOW . 271 

XXVII. SUNDARI S FATHER . . . . 282 

XXVIII. DAWN IN LINGAPURA .... 290 



Daughters of Darkness 
In Sunny India 



A MUSSULMAN TRICKED BY A MERCHANT 

IN past ages, there lived in the Brahman vil 
lage of Somapura, a Brahman named Chan- 
drabhatta. According to the rules of his 
caste, he made a living by begging from the 
charitably disposed. One day he heard that the 
king of Dharapatna was bestowing great wealth 
upon Brahmans, and so he thought that he, too, 
must of necessity have his share of any good 
thing that was to be obtained. For this purpose, 
he set out quite alone on the journey he must 
undertake to reach Dharapatna. On arriving at 
the outskirts of the city, he entered a garden 
that was close at hand, and saw in it a beautiful 
lake shining with clear water, pleasant with the 
sweet songs of lovely water fowls, and beautiful 
with full blown flowers. He was very tired from 
all the difficulties of the way, and so he decided 
ii 



1 2 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

to bathe in the cold water, eat his food, take a 
little rest, and then enter the city. 

Accordingly, he descended into the lake, and 
washed his face ; then he bathed. Suddenly he 
remembered that he had no purple stock leaves 
with which to worship God. After looking here, 
there, and everywhere, for the holy plant, he at 
last saw one growing by itself near a Mussul 
man s mosque which was by the side of the gar 
den. The sacred water which he carried in his 
Chumbu, 1 he poured over the leaves of that 
plant, and the muddy water from beneath it, he 
poured on his own head. Going round and 
round the plant, he folded his hands, and then 
plucked the leaves by twos and threes. 

In the mosque there was a Mussulman who 
watched all that the Brahman did, and at last he 
came to him and said : " O Brahman, are you a 
fool? What do you mean by worshipping a 
plant?" 

The Brahman replied, " O Mussulman, this is 
not a mere plant, it is my god, therefore I wor 
ship it." 

Then the Mussulman saying, " O Brahman, is 
this thy god; what can this do? It has not 
sufficient power to destroy the hair of my body," 
kicked the plant with the shoe on his foot, pulled 
it up by the roots, rubbed it over his body, 
pressed it in his hands, and then threw it down. 
As he did this, he turned again to the Brahman, 

1 A drinking vessel. 



A Mussulman Tricked by a Merchant 13 

and saying in a mocking tone, " Now do you see 
the power of your god?" went back to the 
mosque. 

A merchant who was going by the mosque to 
trade in a village near that town, seeing all that 
the wicked Mussulman had done with the holy 
Tulsai plant, determined to deceive him. For 
this purpose, he laid the sack that was on his 
back under the tree, found a prickly plant bush, 
and began walking round and round it worship 
ping it openly in full face of the Mussulman. 

He, seeing this, said to himself, this man is 
possessed with the same madness as that Brah 
man, so he came to the merchant and spoke to 
him, saying, " O merchant, what is this folly ? 
Why are you going round this plant and wor 
shipping it ? " 

The merchant replied, O Mussulman, this is 
my family god ; it is a very cruel god, therefore 
it must be worshipped with entire devotion." 

The Mussulman answered, " Fie, fie, you all 
lack wisdom, what power has this leaf? "so re 
buking the merchant he proudly pulled the plant 
from its root, rubbed the leaves over his legs and 
threw them away. But immediately, in great 
distress caused by the pricking and burning of 
the prickly leaves he spoke in very humble lan 
guage. "Alas: alas, O merchant, your words 
are very true ; your god is indeed a very cruel 
god. Oh ! the pain that is all over my body. 
It burns me greatly, what must I do ? " 



14 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

The merchant replied, " O Mussulman, what 
can I do ? As you have done wrong to my god, 
confess your fault to him, and promise to lay 
money at his feet for an offering. This money 
you may give to me, and I will pray my god to 
cure you." 

The Mussulman, greatly desiring to be free 
from his pain, gave to the merchant, for a votive 
offering, all the money that was in his pocket. 
The merchant took possession of the ten pagodas 
thus laid at his feet and with four pie, he bought 
a little castor oil which he smeared all over the 
Mussulman s body, rubbing it well in, until the 
pricking and burning sensation stopped. He 
then made salaam to the Mussulman and went 
on his way. 1 

Thus a dark-skinned Indian maiden poured 
out her story in the soft liquid tones of the Kan- 
arese people. Her audience was composed of 
village children, boys and girls with nothing to 
occupy their time, but to lie idly in the shadows 
cast by the grim, ugly walls of the idol temple 
close at hand. 

Sundari had lately developed quite a faculty 
for story telling, and would often hold her com 
panions spellbound, as she narrated to them, in her 
own expressive way, and with sundry additions of 
her own inventive genius, the stories that her 
father now and again repeated in her hearing. 

He was the village carpenter, and as such, had 
1 From the Katha Sanghra. 



A Mussulman Tricked by a Merchant 15 

to keep the village temples in repair. This work 
had been done by his father, his grandfather, and 
his great-grandfather before him. It looked as 
though the succession was not to be continued 
in his family for as yet, the gods had given him 
no son. 

As he made his daily round of the temples, he 
heard many of the stories that the priests recited, 
and having a retentive memory he stored them 
up until, upon some appropriate occasion he re 
hearsed them for the benefit of some of his 
neighbours. 

Sundari, his daughter, was as pretty a little 
specimen of Eastern childhood as could be found 
amongst the village folk of Southern India. She 
was small and might have been any age from 
seven to ten or eleven, but neither her father 
nor mother had troubled to keep count of the 
years that had gone by since the disappointing 
news had been whispered from one to another 
that the carpenter Lingappa s first-born was a 
daughter. 

Her small brown face was surmounted by a 
mass of soft, shining, rippling strands of hair that 
looked as though it only needed the loving touch 
of her mother s hand to coax it into the most 
bewitching of little curls. 

Her mouth was sweetly sensitive, with the 
slightest suspicion of roguishness which was en 
hanced when her lips unclosed, and displayed a 
perfect set of pearly teeth that many a Western 



16 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

mother would have envied for her own delicately 
nurtured darling. There was a decided piquancy 
about her nose, and her black eyes shone and 
sparkled like bright stars in the darkest of mid 
night skies. 

She carried her little figure erect for she had 
early learned to poise the water-pot upon her 
head, and now she could even carry her baby 
sister upon her hip, and balance the water-pot 
upon her head with her one disengaged hand. 
Village custom did not demand that she should 
be burdened with over-much clothing, and Sun- 
dari could remember quite well when her mother 
first folded a piece of her own sari around her, 
and -she did not like it at all. 

Even now, she sometimes envied the freedom 
of limb and action, that the tiny girls of the 
village had in their close-fitting brown-skin 
dresses with only a string tied round their waist. 

One day, when her father had been into the 
market town of Ballapura, he had brought her 
back a small new sari which she had been quite 
proud to wear but that was a very long time ago. 
Now it was old and thin, and even ragged ; for 
it had been washed often and worn much. The 
end that went over her head was almost like a 
fringe with the constant pulling up that she had 
given it, first to try and hide the long ropes of 
matted hair that had taken years to grow to the 
desired length, and then to cover her poor little 
head that felt so bare and miserable after her 



A Mussulman Tricked by a Merchant 17 

hair had been cut off and offered to a god whose 
image her father and mother constantly wor 
shipped in a near temple. 

She was only just learning to walk when her 
parents had vowed to present her hair to their 
particular deity in return for the blessing of a 
son. From the day the vow was made until the 
hour she was taken to the temple to have it cut 
off by the priest her hair had grown longer and 
longer, and as neither comb nor water was al 
lowed to touch it, it became terribly matted with 
filth until it hung like thick, heavy, muddy ropes 
from her small head. 

She was glad to get rid of the dirty hair ; for 
it was dreadfully burdensome, but for weeks she 
had kept closely at home, feeling only too con 
sciously ashamed of her greatly changed appear 
ance. Soon, her mother noted with joy the soft 
pretty black hair that was covering her child s 
little head once more, and during the past weeks 
had often washed it with Sekai, 1 and adminis 
tered sundry anointings with cocoanut oil. 

Sundari had no looking-glass to keep her in 
formed of the rate of progress that her hair was 
making; but by continually passing her hand 
over her shaven head she soon found out that 
the bare skin could be no longer visible, and so 
she had again ventured to join her village com 
panions, and to take up her old pastime of story 
telling. 

1 Soap nut. 



i8 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

" The story of how the wily merchant tricked 
the Mussulman " was a favourite with all the 
children. Every time it was repeated, they 
seemed to enjoy it more than before, and never 
failed to greet with peals of derisive laughter the 
conclusion of how the Mussulman smarted in 
body and in pocket for his mocking propensities. 
These village children had only seen one Mus 
sulman in all their lives, and to them he was the 
very man who had been so reckless as to smear 
the prickly plant on his bare body. They shared 
with their elders a keen dislike of this man who 
every now and again appeared in their midst, 
wearing long baggy undergarments, and a turban 
which was twisted in such a ridiculous fashion 
that an end of it hung like a tail down his back. 
He carried a book in his hand from which he 
read to them whether they cared to listen or not. 

Sundari s funny stories were much more inter 
esting than the Mussulman s long dissertations on 
god and his holy prophet Mahomet. But still 
even such an unwelcome intruder as the Mus 
sulman brought a change into the monotony of 
their unchildlike lives ; for these children of 
sunny India were more like grown men and 
women made small than like the children of 
Western lands and homes. 

They had never learned how to play, or to run 
and jump with the happy freedom of unconscious 
childhood. Instead of skipping and dancing 
through the early years of their life, they began 



A Mussulman Tricked by a Merchant 19 

to toddle soberly, and then to walk with the gait 
of one quite grown up, and burdened with the 
weary weight of many years. 

From their earliest infancy, the girls could 
carry the pots of water, and help with the simple 
cooking preparations : they learned to winnow 
the grain, roll the curry stuff, pick the tamarind, 
smear the floor with cow dung, gather together 
the wood, and make the brattles that constituted 
such a large part of the daily fuel, and then as 
they grew a little older, they had to go out into 
the fields with their fathers and mothers, and help 
in the work they did there, for these children 
were no high born Brahman girls to be kept in 
retirement and idleness. 

While Sundari recited her story, the children 
had all been too absorbed in listening to the ever 
fascinating tale to hear the approach of some 
one who had slipped off his red leather shoes in 
order to keep from arousing the attention of the 
interested group, and so that he might appear as 
a sudden apparition in their midst. 

As Sundari finished, she lifted up her eyes to 
note the approval that she fully expected to see 
on the faces of her audience, but her love of 
praise was doomed to disappointment, for instead 
of the faces of her companions her eyes rested 
upon some one who caused her to utter a startled 
cry of, " The Mussulman," and to make a des 
perate attempt to push past all the children and 
to disappear within the nearest door that stood 



2o Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

open. All the others caught the note of fear in 
her voice and followed her example as quickly as 
their lazy habits would permit of, but not before 
they saw the Mussulman had arrested the flying 
feet of Sundari by catching at the child s dirty 
cloth, and holding her a fast prisoner. 

" I won t say it again, let me go, let me go," 
screamed the excited child. 

" You are Sundari, the daughter of Lingappa," 
said the man. " Where is your father ? " 

" Oh, I don t know, let me go," came the an 
swer and with a mighty effort she was free, leav 
ing one end of her rotten old sari in her captor s 
hands. 

It was only the work of a second to reach a 
place of safety, and the baffled Mussulman 
turned away, calling upon God to take vengeance 
upon the youthful sinners. 



II 

THE SHAKING DEVIL 

THE house in which Sundari took shelter 
was one of the best in the village. The 
blackness of age caused the quaint carv 
ing with which the woodwork was ornamented to 
stand out in bold relief. On each side of the 
door, there was a raised platform of mud and 
cement, called a pial, and on this Lingappa sat, 
or lay to rest after his day s work was over. Here 
too, he entertained his neighbours and friends. 
The house pial was also a favourite spot with his 
wife, for it was so conveniently public to bring 
out her curry stone, and make her preparations 
for the forthcoming meal while she gossipped 
with the village women as they passed and re- 
passed, or noted the condition of her neighbours 
cattle, buffaloes or goats as they wandered up and 
down the narrow openings which were dignified 
by the name of streets. 

The carpenter s house boasted two rooms or 
compartments. The best one was in the front, 
and was devoted to the use of two really fine 
buffaloes, and a few goats. The second room 
led out of the first and was only divided from it 
by a raised floor, and some beams placed at in- 
21 



22 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

tervals like the posts of a fence, only that they 
reached from floor to ceiling. In this room the 
family ate, drank, slept, and lived generally. 

This inner living room was devoid of windows, 
doors or chimneys, and was quite dependent for 
light upon the front door, and a few chinks in 
the thatch of the roof. 

What was lacking in furniture was not noticed 
by the ordinary visitor, for furniture was not fash 
ionable amongst the village folk of Lingapura. 
A mat to sleep on, and a few earthern chatties 
with three or four brass vessels was all that these 
simple people needed as household requisites. 

The mingled odours from the little recess at 
the back where the cooking was done, the smell 
from the animals themselves, and from the piles 
of their food stored in all sorts of odd corners, to 
say nothing of that emitted from the dirty drain 
age that trickled slowly through the lower room, 
made up an aroma that defied classification under 
any known name. 

After getting accustomed to the gloom of the 
dark unfurnished room, Sundari made her way to 
the darkest corner, where lay what appeared to 
be a heap of rags. As her light step crossed the 
mud floor, the rags seemed to move, and then to 
be in convulsions, but no sound was heard until 
the child had recovered her breath sufficiently to 
say, " Alas ! My mother, has the cold fever come 
to you again?" 

At the sound of her voice, the rags moved 



The Shaking Devil 23 

more convulsively than ever, and a woman slowly 
raised herself to a sitting position. Her eyes 
were brilliant with fever, her long black hair was 
dishevelled, and as she tried to open her parched 
lips to speak, her teeth chattered violently with 
the fit of ague that was upon her. 

" Yes, yes," she grasped out at last, " the fever 
has come again. The demon has me in his 
strong grip. If we were only rich like the sowcar 
who swallows up all our money, we might hire 
the devil dancers to drive out this evil spirit. 
First it burns me, and then it shakes, and shakes, 
and shakes ; oh ! oh ! oh ! it will shake me to 
pieces," she moaned as she tried to huddle her 
rags closer around her. 

Sundari stood mute with pity, for she dare not 
speak in the presence of such supernatural 
power. Inwardly she quaked with fear lest the 
shaking devil that so unmistakably possessed her 
mother should seize upon her also. 

After a few moments, the fit of ague spent 
itself and once more the mother raised herself 
and begged for a little water as she felt the fever 
coursing through her veins. The silent child 
moved to where a brass chumbu stood, but not 
a drop of the precious liquid did it contain. 

" My mother, there is no water ; I must go to 
the well, and it will take long to get the chatty 
filled, for the hole is nearly dry." 

Poor fever stricken daughter of darkest heath 
enism, not a drop of cold water to cool your 



24 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

parched tongue, no gentle hand and loving voice 
to minister to you in this your hour of need. 
No, you must lie there in all your misery, while 
the fever demon shakes and tears you because 
your countrymen are like unto the cruel and 
senseless gods enthroned in their own evil and 
dark imaginations, and because those, who are 
able to bring to your soul good tidings of great 
joy, and to minister to your physical needs, sit at 
home in ease and comfort surrounded by all the 
luxuries that wealth can bestow, and enjoying to 
the full the privileges of their Christian woman 
hood! 

Poor little Sundari felt too frightened to ven 
ture out into the sunshine where there was any 
chance of the Mussulman being still about, so she 
lingered as long as she possibly could before 
taking up her water pot. Meanwhile her mother 
had fallen into a light sleep, but woke again with 
another violent fit of shivering, and with it an 
other accession of superstitious fear seized Sun 
dari. Finally her fear of the fever devil over 
came her dread of the Mussulman, and she 
braced herself up to take the walk for the much 
needed water. Her bare brown feet tripped 
lightly, though quickly, over the rough, uneven, 
narrow streets that led from her father s house to 
the outskirts of the village, and so.on she was 
speeding along the dusty road on her way to the 
water hole upon which the whole of the village 
depended for the supplyof their daily needs. 



The Shaking Devil 25 

This water hole was in the centre of a broad 
shingle bed, which in the month of July ought 
to have been a wide expanse of shining, flowing 
water, but for two years the Monsoon had failed. 
Day by day heavy clouds had banked up in the 
sky, but the much wished for, and apparently 
near rain had ended in a few drops only, and 
then the wind had freshened from another 
quarter, and driven the clouds in an opposite 
direction, leaving an azure sky and the sun pour 
ing forth his scorching rays until every green 
blade had dried up. 

One by one the water holes in the bed of the 
river had run dry, till in this second year of 
drought, there was only this one hole left. 
Round it, all day long, sat the patient women 
and girls, waiting their turn to dip their half 
cocoanut shell into the muddy liquid, and so fill 
their household chatty. It was marvellous how 
that one water hole held out and supplied the 
hundreds who daily dipped into it. 

With what looked very much like stolid in 
difference the villagers continued dipping up 
until scarcely a thimbleful remained as evening 
came on, but the next morning would be sure to 
find a fresh supply had percolated through the 
dry shingle. 

When Sundari reached the hole, seven women 
were there before her, and so she put down her 
heavy pot and took up her favourite attitude upon 
the shingle. The child sat with her chin down 



26 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

on her knees, which she clasped with her hands, 
and watched the movements of her companions 
with her shining black eyes. Ever and anon more 
women joined the group, and as each one knelt 
by the hole, filled her pot and went away, an 
other quickly took her place fearful of losing 
her turn. It was the idle ones who indulged in 
various scraps of conversation to wile away the 
time. 

" My master went to the market yesterday to 
sell the limes ; they are the last from our garden, 
and so small that he only got two annas for fifty. 
Oh ! why does the rain not come so that the 
trees may grow, and we can sow our grain ? " 
said a healthy looking girl of about sixteen. Her 
water pot lay on the shingle at her feet, and two 
restless children clung to her sari. 

" Of course your limes won t grow," retorted 
an older woman, to whom the remark had not 
been addressed. " Your master lingers in the 
market-place listening to the white Dhorai s 
words about another Mahadeva whom we do 
not worship. Lingappa, the carpenter, saw him 
there only yesterday." 

" My master does pooja every day, and offers 
the best of our limes to Basavana," averred the 
first speaker. Sundari was on the alert, for she 
fancied the two women were on the verge of a 
quarrel, and her bright eyes sparkled in antici 
pation of what the result might be, but dropped 
as the next words fell upon her ears. " Your 



The Shaking Devil 27 

master talks to the Mussulman, and invites him 
into the house to read his holy book." 

" Your mother-in-law s nose turns up, and her 
legs are crooked," was the spiteful reply. The 
girl s anger was now fully aroused and she could 
not keep back her most poisoned arrow. Catch 
ing up her twin boys she screamed out so that 
all might hear her, " Ha, ha, I have two sons, and 
you, why you are that miserable creature, a child 
less wife. You have tried the gods all round to 
give you a son, and now perhaps your master is 
trying what the Mussulman s god can do." 

The women heard, as she intended they should, 
and they greeted her words with peals of de 
risive laughter at the expense of the childless 
woman, whom they all knew to be burning with 
jealousy when she looked at the fine healthy boys 
of her young neighbour. 

The mother of the twins moved to the hole as 
she spoke, and soon became absorbed in her 
occupation, and when she had filled her chatty, 
Sundari took her place. 

It was weary work, but she persevered until 
the large vessel was full, when she lifted it grace 
fully upon her head, and rose from her lowly 
attitude to carry home that which had cost her 
both time and labour. 

Was it that the pot was unusually heavy, or 
did her foot trip in some of the loose shingle, or 
was it the sight of the Mussulman in the distance 
that caused her to overbalance herself and fall 



28 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

forward spilling every drop of the precious water 
that she had scooped up with such infinite pains. 

Meanwhile another, and yet another woman 
had approached the hole, and the child had to 
again fall into the ranks of the waiting ones, for 
she knew it would be useless to return home 
without the necessary water. Her bright eyes 
filled with tears as she thought of all her labour 
spent in vain; and then her heart beat more 
rapidly as she remembered that her accident had 
prevented her coming face to face with the very 
man who must have heard the story she had been 
telling earlier in the afternoon, at the expense of 
him, and his fellow caste men. 

The Mohammedan emissary of the rich money 
lender in Ballapura went on his way all uncon 
scious of the fear the sight of him had aroused 
in the mind of the small brown maiden who had 
attracted him, first of all by her ready flow of 
language, and then by her lively gestures that 
gave such piquancy to the narrative she was 
relating. 

He determined to arouse the curiosity of his 
master, by telling him of the little village girl. 
He was rich, and could afford to increase the 
women of his harem, and to indulge his taste for 
pretty women and girls. Besides if his desires 
lay in the same direction as the holy prophet s, 
why should he not indulge them even as the 
prophet of old did. As he communed thus with 
himself, he came to the conclusion that the lovely 



The Shaking Devil 29 

Ayesha, upon whom Mahomet had lavished such 
a wealth of tender love, must have been bright 
and beautiful as the village owner of the spark 
ling eyes, and soft curling hair. He imagined 
that if he succeeded in introducing this new 
childish beauty to his master s notice, there 
would probably be a good number of rupees to 
add to his own slowly-increasing hoard. He 
was ambitious to become a money-lender him 
self, but his difficulty was to get the capital 
to start with. Rolling in wealth as his master 
was, he paid his agents only the minimum wage 
for the maximum amount of work. The man s 
cunning eyes gleamed, as in fancy he saw him 
self enriched by a great stroke of diplomacy in 
bringing to the notice of Abu Taleb, the money 
lender, the fresh young loveliness of Sundari, the 
daughter of Lingappa, the recognized carpenter 
of the village of Lingapura. 

And Sundari, the little maid sitting so pa 
tiently on the shingle bed of the river was 
quietly allowing little pearly drops to course 
down her dark cheeks as a relief to the unde 
fined fear that held her in as close a clutch as 
the shaking devil did her mother. 



Ill 

ABU TALEB 

THE great heat of the day had passed, 
and the loungers who crowded the ba 
zaars from early morning until late at 
night were thankful for a little respite from the 
burning rays of the tropical sun. Some of the 
bazaar vendors were even thinking of closing up 
for the night, and finding their way to such mys 
terious haunts as did duty for a home. 

But Abu Taleb was not one of this number. 
His place of business was always open until a 
very late hour, for he studied the convenience of 
his patrons who were not customers in the ordi 
nary sense of the word. 

Almost hourly they came, for a little private 
audience with the exacting money-lender, and 
they seldom departed without bowing meekly to 
the great man s terms and accepting the usurious 
rate of interest for the small loans he negotiated. 
Sometimes he dealt in a very large way of 
business, and advanced to his clients some thou 
sands of rupees, but such loans were only for 
those who could give him good security for his 
money. Landed property, and family jewels he 
considered his best investments. 
30 



Abu Taleb 31 

Now, as the shades of evening were drawing 
on, he reclined on the somewhat soiled white 
pillows that did duty for a seat and a lounge, and 
waited without the least sign of impatience for 
the next call upon his attention. 

Abu s pale complexion and raven hair were 
enhanced by the bewildering gorgeousness of his 
picturesque Eastern costume. Over his wide, 
embroidered white trousers he wore a snowy 
muslin shirt which reached to his knees. The 
starched cuffs were fastened with diamond links ; 
jewels also flashed from the breast of his outer 
garment which was scarcely concealed by a 
beautiful yellow satin waistcoat, elaborately em 
broidered in silver. On his head, in place of the 
turban of outdoor wear, was perched a jaunty 
little skull-cap of violet velvet literally covered 
with a profusion of golden embroidery. 

Ever and anon he toyed with a heavy gold 
watch chain, and as he lifted his hands up they 
too, displayed brilliant gems in the rings that 
adorned his fingers. He was fond of display, 
and believed that a great appearance of wealth 
was conducive to the welfare of the business in 
which he was engaged. 

Nearly every one who passed his bazaar sa 
laamed punctiliously to the great man, and his 
more intimate friends often paused to pass a few 
remarks. Sometimes Abu was chatty as well as 
witty, but this was only with quite a favoured 
few. On the whole his nature was reserved, and 



32 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

he was silent as became the man who knew the 
monetary secrets of more than half the upper 
classes of the inhabitants of Ballapura. 

By and by he roused himself from his easy 
lounging attitude, and touched a small bell, the 
sound of which quickly brought a clerk from a 
back apartment, but before he could give any 
directions to the man, his eyes gleamed with a 
look of satisfaction as he saw a fellow-devotee of 
the holy prophet approaching with stately step 
along the narrow thoroughfare in which his 
business was conducted. Abu rose to greet him, 
for he was an elderly man, and as such demanded 
this act of courtesy from the younger one. The 
salutations over, the elder man said, " Allah is 
good to his faithful ones. The rain still holds 
off and grain is going up in price. To-day rice 
is eight measures to the rupee, last week it was 
ten ; we shall be rich men in a month s time. 
Think of the thousands of measures of rice and 
cholum stored in our granary for just such a time 
as this," and he rolled his eyes piously. 

" Oh my father," replied Abu, " but what good 
prices we have already obtained by sending it 
away to the famine districts. Can we do better 
still ? " and a sinister gleam shot from his dark 
eyes, giving them the expression of a cat ready 
to spring upon its prey. 

" Yes, yes, my son, we can get our own price 
very shortly. The Madras and Bombay papers 
are full of the generosity of the English and 



Abu Taleb 33 

American people in sending large sums of money 
to help the famine stricken of our land. Lakhs 
of rupees are coming in every week and we must 
take care to enrich ourselves." Into the midst of 
their avaricious thoughts came the moment for 
prayer, and the two men, heedless of passers-by, 
turned their faces towards Mecca, and did their 
duty as good Mohammedans and faithful follow 
ers of their prophet. A few paces down the 
street another Mohammedan was obeying the 
prayer summons: he spread his tiny scrap of 
prayer-carpet, slipped off his shoes, turned in the 
direction of the Mohammedan Kebla, and in a 
drawling but unctuous tone, repeated the required 
formula, and went carefully through all the atti 
tudes and genuflexions prescribed for a man of 
his station in life. 

First he stood upright with his hands hanging 
down, and his feet slightly apart ; next he raised 
his hands and held them in such a position as to 
cause the thumbs just to touch the lobe of the 
ear. This seemed to be preliminary to what fol 
lowed, for he slowly brought his hands together, 
taking care that the right one should be upper 
most, then bowing low with a movement that 
seemed to come from the waist, he quickly spread 
his hands upon his knees, rising again, he fell 
upon his knees, placed his hands upon the 
ground and lowered his face until he touched 
mother earth with his nose and forehead ; then 
without rising he sank gradually backwards and 



34 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

made two bows, after which he rose to his feet 
keeping them in one position, and clasping his 
hands in an attitude of supplication. These 
movements he went through five or six times 
and finally he stood erect holding his hands be 
fore his face as though reading from a book. 

This part of his devotions being ended, he 
gently stroked his face and beard, rolled up his 
tiny carpet, slipped on his shoes, and continued 
his journey. A few steps brought him to the 
door of Abu Taleb s bazaar where to his disap 
pointment he found his master engaged with the 
old grain merchant, Abdallah. 

Soon, the sowcar and the grain merchant 
parted, but the newcomer waited for the money 
lender to resume his comfortable attitude upon 
the lounge before he signified his arrival. 

He slipped his bare feet from his pointed red 
leather shoes, raised his turban, and mopped his 
moist forehead with a dirty handkerchief, then 
coughed insinuatingly as though to strangle a 
mighty outburst ; but his apparent effort was 
such a complete failure, that his real intention of 
attracting his master s attention proved entirely 
successful. 

Abu looked up with an indifferent expression, 
and Osman, his servant, putting both hands to 
his forehead, bowed himself almost level with the 
ground, but uttered no word of greeting. 

" Peace be to thee, my son, what news do you 
bring?" 



Abu Taleb 35 

" I have performed the Sahib s commands, and 
have just returned from Lingapura." 

" Ha : that is well," drawled out the autocrat 
of the Ballapura money market, and he looked 
his next question rather than asked it. 

"The land is dry and waste; the ground is 
parched for want of rain. Some few ryots have 
tried to grow their grain, but the stunted blades 
wither and die as soon as they appear above the 
ground." 

He paused to take breath, and seemed to need 
some encouragement to proceed with his report. 

" Is that all ? " 

" Very few of the villages have any water sup 
ply to depend upon. Nearly all the wells are 
quite dry. Some of the women are walking two 
and three miles to obtain one chatty of water." 

" God is one, and Mahomet is His prophet," 
was the pious remark of Abu. " Oh, friend, did 
you not counsel these villagers to forsake their 
idols and call upon Allah to send showers of re 
freshing upon their thirsty land ? " 

Osman winced slightly at the " oh friend," 
with which his master prefaced his reply, and 
wondered what would come next. 

" Alas, alas ; my master, they laugh and ridi 
cule when the name of Allah is mentioned. 
Many of those who have hitherto listened to the 
sacred Koran would not invite me to read to-day. 
The most interested ones had their excuses ready, 
and I was forced to close the holy book. There 



36 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

is a wide-spread report that Shiva, the destroyer, 
is determined to have his revenge upon the peo 
ple, for not only listening to the words of the 
Koran, but also for drinking in the Christian 
doctrines of Dhorai Burton, the English mis 
sionary." 

During this long dissertation Abu s attention 
began to wander, but upon the sound of ap 
proaching carriage wheels, he was on the alert 
once more, and suddenly rose to his feet to make 
a profound salaam to the occupant of the bandy l 
who was an English lady accompanied by two 
native girls who instinctively drew their saris 
closer around their heads as they caught sight of 
the Mohammedan gentleman, and his servant 
making their salaams with so much exaggerated 
politeness. 

As the carriage passed, Abu murmured, " Oh, 
these Englishwomen, with what boldness they 
shew their bare faces in the public bazaar," and 
Osman, his servant, whispered as though to him 
self, " A vision of loveliness, Sahib, not the mis 
erable white-faced English missionary, how I 
hate her, but the glowing beauty of the dark- 
eyed girls, her servants, Sahib. Bible-women 
they call themselves. Oh, just to gaze at them 
makes my old heart glow," and he laid his skinny, 
brown hand near the region where he fondly 
imagined his heart was located. 

The sowcar vouchsafed no reply but threw 

1 Carriage. 



Abu Taleb 37 

himself again on his pillows, commanded Osman 
to be seated, and with a peculiar movement of 
his jewelled hand indicated that he was ready to 
hear any further news. 

" Sahib, I carried out your orders faithfully." 

" Yes, yes, tell me everything." 

" I saw Lingappa, the carpenter." 

" Did he pay you the interest on the loan ? " 

" I saw Lingappa the carpenter, and reminded 
him of your kindness in waiting a week for the 
payment of his debt," calmly continued the emis 
sary ; " he has no money to pay, Sahib." 

Well." 

" He has two fine fat buffaloes." 

" Oh you are a trusty servant, Osman. Food 
for animals is almost at famine price. Every 
body wants to sell but very few will buy ; and 
they only give a very low price," said the Mus 
sulman with a reflective air. " True, true, but 
they are fine fat buffaloes you say." 

" Yes, the carpenter has stinted himself and 
children to get the necessary food for the ani 
mals. Hitherto he has gained part of his living 
by lending the buffaloes for ploughing, and draw 
ing water ; but the rain has failed, and who can 
afford to hire buffaloes ? " 

" I am weary of all this talk, Osman. You 
have sold the buffaloes, and can now pay me the 
quarter s interest due on Lingappa s loan," said 
Abu in a tone that was meant to be assertive, 
but only proved to be interrogative. Osman had 



38 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

been forced into a corner before now, when his 
master had adopted a similar method of making 
him pay up when he had failed to obtain the 
money from those who were in the sowcar s 
debt, and so he hastened to extricate himself by 
saying in a very confidential tone, 

" Lingappa has a daughter." 

" A daughter, and what has that to do with 
the buffaloes, and the payment of the interest of 
the loan ? " 

" She is young and beautiful. Oh, by the 
holy prophet how beautiful," and the man closed 
his eyes as though to see again the fresh young 
loveliness of the village maiden he had set out to 
betray. 

" A young and beautiful girl. How old is she, 
my trusty one ? " said Abu, rising at once to the 
bait held out by his wily old messenger. 

" Perhaps she is nine or ten years of age, Sahib. 
Oh those eyes, how they danced like twinkling 
stars in a summer s sky," and Osman clasped his 
hands in a transport of ecstasy as he recalled 
Sundari s radiant face while relating her story to 
her village companions. 

" If she is ten, she is a year older than the 
lovely Ayesha who proved the pattern of an 
obedient and virtuous wife," mused the money 
lender, quite loud enough for his words to fall 
upon the attentive ears of his servant. 

" She is fair as a high born Mohammedan lady, 
Sahib." 



Abu Taleb 39 

" Dog of a servant," roared out Abu, roused by 
the remarks from his easy indolence, " what do 
you know of well-born Mohammedan women 
who are kept for the eyes of their own lords to 
feast upon ? " 

The dog of a servant whined like a whipped 
puppy, but his heart was too determined on the 
project he had brooded over, all the wearisome 
tramp from Lingapura, and so he made another 
effort murmuring, 

" My beautiful lotus bloom, my starry eyed lit 
tle one I at least have gazed upon thine unveiled 
beauty." 

At the words Abu s eyes blazed with the new 
born desire to see and possess such beauty for 
himself, but he did not will that his servant 
should know too much, so he quietly replied, 

" Ah ! I understand, Osman : you are still my 
faithful friend : two fine fat buffaloes, and a beau 
tiful daughter. Our friend Lingappa is a rich 
man after all. How much does he owe me?" 

" Eighty rupees, and a quarter s interest on the 
debt." 

" That will do ; bring the lovely child here, and 
we will cancel the debt." 

" Sahib ! " there was a world of astonishment 
in the intonation Osman threw into that one 
word." 

Was he not to be well paid for bringing such a 
pearl to the money lender s notice ? The already 
rich banker would cancel Lingappa s debt and 



4O Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

take the beautiful prize while he himself was to 
be a poor man still. Alas ! alas ! for his own 
schemes. 

" You may go," was his master s reply to the 
exclamation of the faltering word " Sahib." 
" You heard my order, go and lay your plans for 
carrying it out at once." 

Night had fallen while the men talked. The 
sowcar retired to his evening meal well pleased 
with himself and his day s transactions, while his 
tool, the Mussulman, stumbled along in the dark 
ness to his lowly home. First, he cursed his 
own fate, and then he took comfort in stolid in 
difference ; for did not the holy Koran teach that 
what was to be would be, therefore why worry 
himself unnecessarily about the accumulation of 
wealth that perhaps Allah had decreed should 
never be within his grasp. 



IV 

THE FAMILY DEBT 

WHILE Abu, the money lender, and his 
servant Osman so cynically discussed 
the possessions of Lingappa, the car 
penter, the poor man was himself passing through 
a time of bitter anguish. He lay face down 
wards in the temple, prostrate, first in prayer, 
and then in rebellion, before the huge stone 
image of Basavana, the sacred bull. He wrestled 
with fate, and thought hard things of the deities 
who were dooming him to days of trial, hunger, 
and other innumerable hardships. 

Ever since the death of his father, two years 
ago, when besides stepping into the position of 
village carpenter, he had also inherited the family 
debt, contracted not by his father, but by his 
grandfather, everything had gone against him, 
and now the climax had come in the demand of 
Osman, the Mussulman, that he should meet the 
interest due on the family debt, or else sell to the 
highest bidder the two animals that helped him 
to earn the necessary grain that barely kept life 
within him and those dependent upon him. It 
was seldom that money ever passed through his 
fingers ; for the villagers always paid him in grain 

4 1 



42 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

or clothes for his work ; and his temple services 
were repaid by his living, rent and land free. 

He hardly knew how he had managed to pay 
the sowcar s interest during the past two years. 
One after another of his few possessions, includ 
ing his wife s jewels, had been sold, and by dint 
of much economy of his stomach he had en 
deavoured to save a daily handful of the grain 
he received as payment for his labours and when 
this reached a few measures he had sold it, and 
carefully treasured up the few annas he thus 
gained, hoping to save enough to meet the sow- 
car s demands ; but now the time of payment 
had come, and he was still many rupees short of 
the required amount. 

Day by day the sun blazed fiercely away in 
his pitiless majesty, and the rain clouds, that 
every few days looked so promising, scudded 
across the sky without letting one drop fall on his 
few lime trees, or on his parched plot where some 
blades of cholum were valiantly struggling for 
existence. 

Last week he had taken two annas from his 
small, small savings, and had spent them in pur 
chasing a few jessamine flowers, and a tiny drop 
of cocoanut oil. Then he had gone the weary 
round of the fifteen temples that were erected in 
his village, and had promised a votive offering to 
each of the fifteen different deities they repre 
sented, if a downpour of rain came and saved 
his small crops. 



The Family Debt 43 

If the cholum and the lime trees were in good 
condition, he felt he could persuade Osman to 
wait, especially if there were the promise of a 
present for himself in addition to paying his 
master s interest. But apparently the gods were 
all indifferent to his cries, for the heavens were 
like a blazing furnace, and the much-wished-for 
rain seemed as far away as ever. No miracle 
had been performed to save poor Lingappa from 
his crushing anxiety. The pure white jessamine 
blooms lay crushed and withered before the idol 
gods, and the wicks in the small oil lamps burned 
steadily for a while and then flickered out as the 
oil became exhausted, but the deaf and dumb 
and blind images remained in their impotence, 
powerless to render help to the miserable suppli 
ant for their favour. 

The man was worn almost to a skeleton, by 
the privations he had already undergone, and the 
threatened famine was now really in the land. 

Now as he lay in mute supplication before the 
bull carved in stone, his thin, dirty loin cloth 
his solitary garment could not hide the sparse- 
ness of his form, and every breath he drew caused 
his ribs to stand out in bold relief. 

No wonder despair crowded into the man s 
soul and found lodgment there : for he was 
hungry with a longing, sickening hunger. No 
matter how tight he drew his waist cord he could 
not ease the desperate gnawing that made him 
feel sick when he even thought of food. 



44 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

As far as he knew, the pangs of appetite must 
be satisfied with thoughts alone for that night at 
least. " Oh Basavana, Basavana, Shiva, Shiva, 
Shiva, help, help, have mercy," he moaned aloud. 
Some mischievous boys at play outside the 
temple, hearing the voice raised in entreaty, 
entered, and seeing Lingappa, the carpenter, 
exclaimed, " Oh Lingappa, does the god not 
hear you ? shall we ring the bells and wake him 
up ? " and without waiting for a reply, they set 
the bells clanging one after another, and then 
rushed out again shrieking with laughter at their 
own joke. 

He paid no heed to the interruption ; but by 
and by he dozed off to sleep. His slumbers were 
not by any means peaceful ; for curry and rice, 
buffaloes, Mussulmans, and his little daughter 
Sundari were all mixed up in a terrible muddle. 

When he roused himself at last to think of 
going home, the sunset hour had come and gone, 
and a full moon was shedding a glorious light 
over the quiet village ; for most of its inhabitants 
were lying curled up in impromptu winding- 
sheets seeking to sleep. In all sorts of out-of- 
the-way corners, as well as in exposed spots, the 
silent figures lay. No thought of danger to 
themselves, or inconvenience to others disturbed 
their comfortable attitudes. 

It was really just a little cooler outside than in, 
and it was so easy to spread their mats on the 
ground as anywhere else. Indeed the great ma- 



The Family Debt 45 

jority of them dispensed with the luxury of even 
a mat, and were only too thankful to be free 
from their daily toil, and thus have the oppor 
tunity of reposing on the only resting-place 
they had ever known the hard dry ground. 

The carpenter paused a moment at his own 
door, which according to custom stood wide 
open, and then crossed the threshold, stopped to 
speak to his buffaloes, and reach them a few 
handfuls of dry cholum straw for their supper. 
Afterwards he passed into the second room 
where in prosperous times his own meal would 
be awaiting him. He did not expect any food 
to-night. "Why should he eat?" he thought 
in a dull way, when so many others in the vil 
lage were quite as hungry as he was. 

Suddenly he came to a standstill and began 
sniffing the air as though he were trying to scent 
out some prey. What was it ? Yes, it must be, 
he could not be mistaken, there certainly was 
curry somewhere about. Where was it ? 

His head began to swim round, and thousands 
of sparks seemed flying out of his eyes. 

Then he recovered himself as a voice speak 
ing in the darkness fell on his ears, " My mother, 
when will he come ? I am so hungry and want 
my supper." 

" I m here, my little one. Supper, how I wish 
I could give you some." 

" Father, father," rang out little Sundari s voice 
in glad accents, " such lovely curry and boiled 



46 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

cholum is ready for you and me. Poor mother 
has the shaking fever again, and cannot eat her 
share." 

" Cholum and curry ? where is it ? I do not 
understand." 

" Listen, father, Chikka Basamma was at the 
water-hole, and I told her the fever devil had 
come to mother, there was no grain to boil, and 
we had eaten no food since yesterday morning ; 
and she remembered that she had a measure of 
cholum to spare, and so she cooked it for you 
and me. 

" Be quick, father, and eat as much as you 
want, and let me have mine." 

Eat ! Could he eat the food now that it was 
within his reach ? He would try, and then per 
haps he would feel better about the buffaloes and 
the debt. 

He took up his little brass chumbu, and 
poured only a few drops of water over his hands, 
for the liquid was too precious to use lavishly, 
and having carried the food out to the house- 
pial to eat in the moonlight, he took a handful, 
dexterously rolled it into a ball, and tried to toss 
it down his dry throat, but it nearly choked him, 
with the result that he spluttered and coughed 
violently in his effort to swallow the much- 
needed nourishment. 

Then he thought of his tightened waistcord, 
and immediately loosened it a few inches. After 
that he found he could swallow more easily, but 



The Family Debt 47 

a very little of the cholum moistened by dipping 
it into the savoury pepper water sufficed him, or 
perhaps he was thinking of the hungry child still 
waiting for her share which custom would not 
allow her to eat until her father was satisfied. 

Sundari was too young and irresponsible to be 
troubled by any scruples about the amount her 
father had carried within doors and given to her. 
Although she had shared various scraps with the 
other children of the village, she was almost 
famishing, and she set to work heartily to devour 
her portion of the unexpected meal. 

When the first pangs of hunger were satisfied, 
she thought of her mother, and crept in the dark 
ness to the corner where she lay huddled. 

" My mother, eat some supper. I will bring 
it and put it in your mouth. Perhaps the shaking 
devil that is in you is hungry too. Give him 
some food, and see if he will leave off shaking you 
so much." 

" Give me water, water," was the feeble reply. 
The child found her way into the moonlight and 
got the chumbu that her father had used, carried 
it to her mother, and the water that remained in 
it she poured deftly down her throat. 

She felt too frightened of what the darkness 
might be concealing, to grope her way back to 
her unfinished supper, and so she threw herself 
down on the bare floor, by the side of her mother, 
and was soon sleeping the sweet sleep of healthy 
Indian childhood. 



48 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

Meanwhile her father had settled himself for 
slumber on the pial outside the house. He un 
wound his turban, and used it as a covering for 
his entire body. His physical exhaustion proved 
greater than his mental weariness, and like Sun- 
dari, it was not long before sleep folded her 
mantle of forgetfulness around him. 

The air was oppressively hot ; the moon sailed 
across the sky in her pale splendour, lighting up 
the whole village, and revealing all sorts of odd 
corners, while the fantastic shadows she cast 
seemed to linger caressingly upon the forms of 
the dark sleepers. 

An hour or two passed by, and then a gentle 
breeze stirred faintly through the deserted streets, 
heavy clouds loomed up from the horizon, and 
spread rapidly over the sky, covering the radiant 
face of the moon and wrapping the whole village 
in sudden darkness. Only another few minutes 
and flash after flash of lurid lightning pierced 
through the dark masses of stormy clouds, the 
thunder rolled, and the rain descended in real 
earnest. How it poured and poured; every 
minute the torrents seemed to gain in intensity 
till the rugged, uneven streets changed their 
stony character and became streams of flowing 
water. 

The outdoor sleepers were disturbed ; but with 
their usual stolid indifference, they merely picked 
up their mats and ran to the shelter of home, 
temple, shed or any near place of covering. 



The Family Debt 49 

Lingappa the carpenter, was one of the first to 
be aroused by the noise of the breaking storm, 
and he stood in t^e full enjoyment of the patter 
ing raindrops, as ihey fell around him, and then 
in the heavy refres ing downpour, apparently 
oblivious of the fact chat his bare body was ex 
posed to the fury of the elements. Slowly he 
picked up his turban and wound it mechanically 
around his head, with but one thought uppermost, 
as he murmured, "The gods hav .; remembered 
me, the grain will grow and the buffaloes are 
saved." 

Abdallah, the grain merchant, heard the thun 
der, smelt the rain, and quickly realized the 
heavens were opened at last, and the thirsty earth 
was being refreshed. He listened sleepily, and 
then settled down even more comfortably than 
before on his luxurious lounge, and drew 
solace from the fact that he had reaped a good 
harvest in rupees through the already long con 
tinued drought. 

Abu Taleb, too, was conscious of the change 
in the weather, as he lay half awake and half 
asleep, haunted by what Osman had told him of 
the possibility of securing a lovely slave girl for 
the women s apartments. " Allah is good," was 
his inward thought. " Now that the rain has 
come, there will be many customers to-morrow 
to secure loans that will enable them to sow their 
grain, but it will be a risky business, and I must 
have the highest rate of interest." 



50 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

The sky cleared, and the storm passed away 
almost as suddenly as it had come. The moon 
peeped out, shyly at first, as though ashamed of 
her tearful appearance, but as the clouds dis 
persed, her former brilliancy returned, and she 
once more reigned a queen over the sleeping but 
refreshed land. 



V 

A FOREIGN VISITOR 

THE English lady to whom Abu Taleb 
had salaamed in the bazaar was return 
ing home with her two companions from 
a far distant village where she had lately com 
menced evangelistic work. 

She was a comparatively new recruit to the 
missionary ranks of Ballapura, and had not yet 
mastered all the intricacies of the foreign but 
sweet tongue spoken by the thousands of people 
by whom she was surrounded. For many years 
Bible-women, with the senior lady missionary of 
the station had worked in the bazaars and in the 
homes of the town itself; but through lack of 
time, well equipped workers, and the necessary 
financial help, the scores of villages round about 
Ballapura had been left untouched, except one 
or two close at hand where it had only been 
possible to pay a yearly visit. 

When Hilda Roi first arrived in the mission 
field, fresh, energetic and enthusiastic, her feet 
began to tread a thorny path, and the thorns 
pricked hardest, and went deepest just in the 
very places where she least expected them. 

Nearly all her preconceived notions regarding 
missionaries, mission work, and the " interesting 



52 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

heathen " had to be quickly laid on one side as 
she personally faced the stern realities of mission 
life. Now that her days of study were almost in 
the past, and she was stepping out into responsi 
ble, if intensely interesting work, she almost 
shrank from the immensity of the task that con 
fronted her. 

As she sat in the carriage on her homeward 
drive, the object of Osman s hatred, and the sub 
ject of Abu Taleb s discourteous remarks, her 
serene face hid a heart that was almost bursting 
in its intensity of desire for a sympathetic white 
friend in whom to confide the experiences that 
had been the outcome of her afternoon s effort to 
carry the gospel to one of the heathen villages of 
heathen India. 

What she really wanted was a wise head and a 
loving heart, one that beat in unison with her 
own, one that would cheer her onwards, and help 
her to unravel her tangled missionary skein. 

At the moment of Abu Taleb s profound 
salaam, Hilda was conscious that her heart was 
crying out for her mother, and it was a fact that 
at that particular time she did want mothering 
very badly. 

She roused herself to return the salaam of the 
sowcar, and caught the eyes of her native com 
panions upon her with a pitying look of love and 
devotion that nearly brought the tears to her 
eyes; but her natural self-control came to her 
aid, and she settled herself once more with a de- 



A Foreign Visitor 53 

termined air, and gave her arm a very decided 
pinch through her thin muslin sleeve, and then 
preached a mental sermon to some one bearing 
her own name. 

" Hilda Roi, you ought to be ashamed of your 
self to get so down-hearted, and thoroughly dis 
appointed just because all these people prefer to 
worship wooden and stone images, and will per 
sist in treating your message with indifference, 
and occasionally a little ridicule. Remember 
how many hundreds of years God s chosen peo 
ple needed in preparation for the coming of 
their Messiah, and do you think these poor 
ignorant superstitious Hindus will be ready to 
receive Him on the first mention of His precious 
name. Wanting your mother s arms round you 
indeed; longing to hear the sound of her soft 
sweet voice as in the days you put so resolutely 
behind your back. What next will you want, I 
wonder ? A nice missionary you are ! Where 
is all the heroism with which you set out from 
your native land ? You have got an idea that 
this stupendous work of converting the heathen 
is yours. No wonder you falter by the way, and 
wish so ardently for an older and wiser brain 
than your own to counsel you. Rest in Him. 
The work is His. You deliver your message in 
the power of the Holy Spirit and leave the culti 
vation of the gospel seed to Him who can and 
will cause it to grow up." 

Then she left Hilda to herself, and her thoughts 



54 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

wandered off to the parable of the sower, and 
glancing at the dark glowing faces of her native 
helpers sitting facing her she gave them an in 
sight into what was passing through her mind 
by saying, " And other fell on good ground, and 
did yield fruit that sprang up and increased ; and 
brought forth some thirty, some sixty, and some 
an hundred." 

Ruth, the elder of the two girls, was quick to 
appreciate Hilda s train of thought, but it was 
with a dreamy far-away look in her Oriental eyes 
that she replied also in the words of scripture, 
" They that sow in tears shall reap in joy. He 
that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious 
seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, 
bringing his sheaves with him." As she re 
peated the comforting words, her voice kindled 
into enthusiasm, and a warm glow of gladness 
overspread her face while she continued : " We 
shall never regret the effort we have made this 
afternoon because we went forth to our ap 
pointed work in the strength of the Lord, believ 
ing that He would bless our feeble attempt. The 
result looks very barren on our homeward jour 
ney, but the future will reveal that which is 
hidden from us now." 

" It has been hotter than usual to-day, and we 
have been a long way ; I am sure Missy must be 
tired," said Mary, as Ruth paused after adminis 
tering the very balm of Gilead to Hilda s shrink 
ing heart. 



A Foreign Visitor 55 

" You must be tired too, Mary. How bravely 
you and Ruth pushed behind the bandy when 
the wheels got embedded in the shingle." 

" Oh, but Missy held the reins and cheered 
the pony on," interposed Ruth. 

The balm of Gilead had soothed and mollified, 
and Hilda laughed merrily at the remembrance 
of the picture they must have made when the 
rough country pony they were driving came to 
a stubborn standstill in the wide shingle bed of a 
river, and they all had to move, because the pony 
would not. The coachman, or in less dignified 
language, the horse-keeper and the two women 
had pushed at the wheels with all their strength, 
and Hilda had seized the bridle and dragged 
courageously, to cheer the horse in pulling for 
ward in response to the mighty push from be 
hind. 

The incident had delayed them almost an hour 
on their journey out to a village that they had 
not before visited. 

When at last they did reach their destination, 
hot, moist, and weary, the whole population of 
the village including the lower animals turned 
out to greet them. Scores of pigs grunted them 
selves to resorts, more dirty than even the en 
trance to the village ; some half dozen donkeys 
unmusically hee-hawed, and then hobbled slowly 
away seeking to browse on dry ground, and 
amongst loose stones, mangy dogs barked and 
yelped shewing their ferocious teeth till the. 



56 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

horse-keeper cracked his whip in their midst, and 
then they dropped their tails, and crawled into 
some place of safety after the fashion of other 
ill-conditioned cowards of the same ilk, fowls 
scattered right and left; the crows caw cawed 
mockingly, but at a safe distance, and only the 
human species gathered thicker and thicker, 
drawn on by the curiosity inherent in Adam s 
race, to see for themselves what new specimen 
had appeared so suddenly in their midst. 

Men, women, boys, girls, and babies jostled 
and pushed each other to get but a glimpse of 
Hilda s white face, and wonderfully strange cloth 
ing. They jeered and laughed at each other s 
remarks, and when Hilda surrounded by scores 
of half dressed dark skinned people, opened her 
mouth and essayed to speak, her efforts were 
drowned in peals of laughter that sounded in the 
girl s ears wonderfully English. Then one of 
the Bible women made an attempt, and the 
hastily gathered audience was a little more at 
tentive to her, for she was one of their own col 
our, and therefore quite an ordinary mortal, but 
whatever kind of a being was the other creature ? 

In the confused babel of sounds the young 
missionary could make very little out of the vil 
lage dialect, and presently Mariamma turned to 
her with an amused twinkle in her bright eyes, 
and said, 

" Dear Missyamma, they want to know if you 
are a man or a woman." 



A Foreign Visitor 57 

Hilda had laughed aloud at the perplexity in 
the minds of the astonished natives, and they 
seeing and hearing her natural laugh felt a little 
more easy in their minds. That stray laugh was 
the touch of nature that made the white woman 
missionary and the dusky heathen villagers kin, 
and in a few minutes they became a little more 
confidential. 

"A woman, did you say, Akkamma?" ven 
tured an old widow in the crowd, " then she is a 
widow too, poor thing, her thali l is gone, and she 
has no ornaments." 

"When did your husband die? How many 
sons have you got ? " asked another interested 
spectator. 

" Is your skin white all over ? What are your 
hands and feet like ? " queried a third. 

A second time Hilda tried to speak, but the 
sound of the English tongue pronouncing their 
liquid words was the signal for renewed merri 
ment, and amid the laughter she could hear her 
words repeated by one and another. So she 
asked Ruth to explain the object of her visit ; 
but all concerned were too curious about herself 
to take much heed, and still the three women 
were hemmed in by the ever increasing crowd 
that swayed backwards and forwards like the 
branches of a tree in a gale. 

Ruth begged them either to be quiet, or to 

1 A gold ornament worn round the neck, as the sign of wife- 
hood. 



58 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

move away so that there might be an opening by 
which they could return to the carriage. 

The pack was at its densest, and the excite 
ment at its height when a man suddenly appeared 
with a heavy stick grasped menacingly in his 
sinewy hand. He let out a fierce cry, and flour 
ishing his stick in all directions dealt a few blows 
that were not exactly light ones. 

The man, his weapon, and the method of using 
it proved very effective, and soon Ruth made her 
voice heard in explanation of the visit that had 
caused such intense excitement. 

" Our time is gone, and we cannot stay longer 
to-day. See the shadows are creeping over 
yonder temple. We had wonderful news to tell 
you, but you have laughed so much that we must 
try to come back another time when perhaps you 
will listen quietly to our words about one True 
Living God who loves you, and thinks about 
you, although you do not serve Him, or even 
know Him," said the gentle native girl. 

" Oh, don t go, don t go," pleaded a dozen 
earnest voices. " We like looking at the white 
woman. Where did she come from ? Do they 
talk like we do in her land ? Oh ! how funny to 
hear such a foreigner talk our language," were the 
questions and remarks that fell on Hilda s ears. 

Gradually they worked their way back to the 
waiting carriage, and Hilda had to confess that it 
looked like failure all along the line. She felt it 
was no comfort to tell herself that the people 



A Foreign Visitor $g 

were ignorant and superstitious, and that she was 
the first white woman they had ever seen, and 
therefore it was natural she should be an object 
of unbounded curiosity. 

All her drive home she was ruminating on the 
events of the afternoon, and it was the bitter 
sense of failure that made the wave of home 
sickness so real to her just as she was nearing the 
busy streets of the town, but as she talked on 
with her companions her horizon cleared very 
considerably, and by the time the mission house 
was reached, much of her usual brightness had 
returned. 

The native girls alighted from the carriage, and 
before making their parting salaam one of them 
said, 

" What time shall we come to-morrow after 
noon, Missyamma?" 

" How far did you say it is to Lingapura ? " 

" The carriage will take us seven miles, and 
then we shall have nearly half an hour s walk." 

" Then we must start quite early ; can you be 
here by two o clock ? " 

" Two o clock ? Oh, Missyamma, the sun 
shines very fiercely at that hour for you to go 
out." 

" Never mind. We will have the thick cover 
over the bandy, and with my topee l and umbrella 
I shall be quite safe. How many different vil 
lages have we been to now ? " 

1 Large pith sun hat. 



60 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

" Six, and Lingapura makes the seventh. 
Missy said we must be content with seven vil 
lages for a beginning." 

" Have you any idea how many villages there 
are in our district, Ruth ? " 

" Far too many to count, Missyamma." 

" Have none of them ever been visited by the 
missionaries or the catechists ? " 

" Missy forgets how many other places there 
are : the thousands and thousands of people, and 
the few who want to tell them of Jesus, our 
Lord. There are nearly eight hundred people 
in the little village we have been to to-day and I 
expect we shall hardly find time to go back again 
for another three weeks, or perhaps a month." 

" Well, remember to-morrow at two o clock. 
As there are so few of us we must not be sloth 
ful in our business for Jesus." . 

" Salaam, Ruthamma, salaam, Mariamma," and 
Hilda raised her right hand to her forehead in 
true Oriental style. 

" Salaam, Missyamma," replied the girls who 
drew their saris well over their heads and turned 
homewards to the mission compound which was 
right in the midst of one of the Pettahs l of the 
town. 

They had not gone many steps when a sudden 
inspiration seemed to seize them and seeing 
Hilda still on the veranda, they retraced their 
steps, and with a pleasant smile Ruth said, 

1 Divisions. 



A Foreign Visitor 61 

* Dear Missy, we think if you would let us put 
some glass bangles on your wrists it would be a 
help in our work. You would then be wearing 
something the same as we do, and it might prove 
a bond between you and the village women. 
You see if you only had the same sort of ban 
gles on, you would not be entirely different from 
ourselves." 

The suggestion appealed to Hilda at once, 
and she said, " It is a capital idea, bring me some 
to-morrow, and you shall put them on. Only 
remember they must be large. I don t want my 
hand screwed into all sorts of shapes like the 
girls have theirs when the bangle man comes 
round." 

Again Hilda was alone, and still she stood ab 
sorbed in thought until aroused to the necessi 
ties of Indian housekeeping by the soft tones of 
the bhoy l addressing her and saying, 

" Kerosene all finished, Ma." 

As she turned to go inside, to get her store 
room keys, and so relieve the bhoy of his anx 
iety concerning the kerosene, a piercing shriek 
rang through the compound, and Hilda knew 
one of the orphan girls under her care had got 
into trouble of some description. Before a 
minute had elapsed the patter of bare feet 
sounded on the concrete floor of the veranda, 
and three excited voices all began to speak at 
once. 

1 Head servant in an English home in India. 



62 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

Hilda put her hands to her ears to shut out 
the babel made by the three foreign tongues, and 
the children, quick to note the signal, left off 
talking while one of them explained that a big 
black scorpion had stung Nilamma in her heel, 
and they wanted some ammonia to rub on her 
foot. 

" Run quickly, and say I am coming at once," 
said Hilda calmly, and going to her medicine 
chest she picked up the bottle containing the 
ammonia and sped across the compound to 
where the girls home was built. 

She found the little sufferer surrounded by her 
companions. Two of them held her leg in a 
tight grasp to keep the poison from ascending, 
and some others were supporting her head and 
body, while she herself moaned most piteously 
from the terrible pain she was suffering. Hilda 
knelt by the child s side, and tenderly picking 
up the poor little foot commenced to rub the 
ammonia into the place that had been stung, but 
it was nearly an hour and a half before the pain 
grew less or the moans of the little victim began 
to abate. 



VI 

HER CHILDREN BY ADOPTION 

HILDA ROI was the youngest daughter 
of a small family, and had naturally come 
in for a good deal of care and attention 
from her elder sisters as well as from her father 
and mother, so that it was an entirely new ex 
perience for her when at the close of her first 
year of missionary life she found herself in the 
responsible position of " mother " to forty or fifty 
orphan and destitute girls whom the workers 
under the London Missionary Society stationed 
at Ballapura, had felt called upon to rescue from 
time to time. 

During the few months these girls had been 
under her care, she had grown to love her dark- 
eyed charges, and to feel the responsibility of the 
name by which they called her. Her children 
varied from four years of age, the baby of the 
home right on to the marriageable maidens of 
fourteen, fifteen and sixteen. 

It was no light task that had been assigned to 
her, to feed, clothe, educate and shelter so many 
girls upon the slender contributions sent by 
friends who had the missionary interest at heart. 

The calls upon her time and attention were 
63 



64 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

innumerable, and as she turned away from min 
istering to the scorpion s little victim she won 
dered how many more times she would be 
summoned that night, and she sighed involun 
tarily as she confessed to herself that it really 
was hot. 

As she crossed the compound, she cast anx 
ious glances towards the rainy quarter of the sky, 
but not the faintest speck of a cloud was to be 
seen. 

" When will the rain come ? " she murmured. 
" If it would only pour like it does at home, just 
for a few hours, this stifling heaviness would pass 
away, and I for one should feel better, I am 
sure." 

As she stepped on to the broad shady veranda 
of the mission house, the bhoy stood, apparently 
waiting her return. Even the flutter of his white 
loin cloth, and the set of his gold-bordered tur 
ban betokened the consciousness of his own im 
portance, as he gave the customary salaam, and 
said with an air of knowing the thoughts that 
were passing through his mistress s mind, 

" The rain clouds are far distant. There is 
little grain in the bazaar. Many poor people are 
hungry. The Dhorasani s servants have not 
enough sombla 1 to pay their debts." 

" I quite understand, bhoy, that you mean you 
want me to increase your wages because the price 
of grain has gone up." 

1 Wages. 



Her Children by Adoption 65 

The bhoy folded his hands together, raised 
them to his face, and salaamed respectfully ere he 
replied : 

" The English Dhorasani has great wisdom ; 
she reads the profoundest secrets of a poor 
servant s heart." 

Well, Jacob, I must think over what you 
have said, and see what can be done for such poor 
sufferers as you and the other servants." 

The well-favoured house-bhoy did not detect 
any irony in Hilda s reply, and now that he was 
relieved of the burden of asking for the increase 
in his wages, which he did not need, he volun 
teered a little further information. " The people 
in the district are in great distress ; in many 
villages they are only getting one meal in two 
days. To-morrow there is to be a procession, 
and fireworks, in honour of the goddess Mari- 
amma to try and get her favour with the god of 
rain." 

" But if the people have not got the money to 
buy rice, how can they afford to spend it in fire 
works ? " 

"They will sell their jewels to the sowcars. 
Fireworks can easily be got, but who can make 
rice and cholum, tamarind and limes grow when 
the ground is parched and hard as a rock because 
the clouds hold the rain instead of letting it fall 
where it is more needed. When the Dhorasani 
pays her poor servants more wages, they can go 
to Abdallah, the grain merchant, and pay him 



66 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

the increased price for the rice he has stored 
up." 

" That is all very well for my poor servants, 
Jacob, but what about the village people ? Who 
will increase their pay that they may buy food 
and live ? " 

The bhoy s volubility had apparently come to 
an end for the time being, and Hilda seeing his 
hesitation said, " After dinner, bhoy, you can 
carry my chair on to the roof; perhaps it will be 
a little cooler there." 

The heat intensified, and the atmosphere 
seemed to grow heavier and heavier, as Hilda 
made a pretence of having some dinner. The 
punkah swung to and fro with a lazy swish, 
swish, that did not cause a breath of air in the 
heated room. 

Suddenly there was a thud against the wall, 
and with a wild convulsive movement the punkah 
stopped its slow regular beat as the boy who was 
pulling it let the rope slip from his relaxed 
fingers, and he himself fell heavily forward, fast 
asleep at his post. 

The fall woke him up, and he made a sleepy, 
surprised effort to regain the punkah rope; but 
Hilda had risen from the table, glad of the 
diversion of the broken rope for an excuse to 
leave the dinner that was so unpalatable in the 
burning atmosphere. Standing on the veranda 
she watched the moon rising above the horizon 
like a thing of life, so rapidly did it change from 



Her Children by Adoption 67 

the tiny rim of light just peeping above the line 
where earth and sky appear to meet, to the full 
round orb of night. 

The bright moonlight tempted her to step 
down from the veranda and to commence to 
walk slowly across the compound. As she 
walked she drew a letter from her pocket and 
read once again by the silvery rays of the 
tropical moon, an account of a children s party 
that her own nephews and nieces in the dear 
homeland had attended. She put the letter away, 
and tried to think how much some Christian 
mother must have spent on her well-fed darlings 
to give that one supper party to a number of other 
equally well-favoured children. Perhaps five, or 
more likely ten pounds. True, the children had 
been very happy for the few hours they were to 
gether, and they had feasted on quantities of 
rich, indigestible food ; some of them had gone 
to bed and fought through the horrors of night 
mare, and some of them had suffered from a 
severe bilious attack the next day, and bitter 
medicine had followed the sweetness of the pre 
vious feasting. 

The money had gone into circulation. Some 
one s purse was all the lighter for it ; a few chil 
dren the more miserable, and a few mothers or 
nurses a little the more worried on account of 
their fretful charges and the children of dark 
ened India were slowly starving to death on a 
handful of grain every two days or so. She had 



68 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

got thus far in her meditations when her attention 
was arrested by what she took to be a thick coil 
of rope lying a few feet in front of her almost 
across her pathway. She advanced one step 
nearer and the rope gave a wriggle that caused a 
thrill of horror to pass through Hilda s over 
wrought body, and the next instant an angry 
hiss confirmed her fear that she had almost trod 
den on a huge snake. 

Was it a fleeting moment, or was it an hour 
that fright chained her to the spot while the 
venomous reptile glided into the dry prickly 
pear hedge. Hilda never knew, but as the 
creature disappeared, she fled towards the house 
with an energy that utterly defied heat and 
languor, and raising her voice with no uncertain 
sound she summoned the servants, with sticks 
and other weapons of defence, to search for the 
unwelcome intruder. Of course they did not 
find it, and could not find it, but the milkman 
who joined in the search, with a great dis 
play of vigour, assured one of the other men 
that, " that fine, big snake had been living in the 
Dhorasani s hedge many weeks, and that a widow 
from his village placed milk for it to drink every 
day." 

After the fright she had experienced, and the 
exertion she had made, Hilda was thankful to 
climb the stone steps that led to the house-top and 
to throw herself into the big basket chair that she 
found ready for her. 



Her Children by Adoption 69 

How silent everything was! She almost 
fancied that she could hear her heart beat. 

How vast the vault of heaven appeared with 
its millions of twinkling stars paling before the 
greater brilliancy of the full moon. Even the 
usual indications of the myriad insect life seemed 
to grow fainter and fainter in the breathless at 
mosphere that was heavy with the pent up heat 
of the day. 

Perhaps she was growing drowsy, for the 
hum of the children s voices in the home close 
at hand seemed a long way off, and the constant 
tinkle of the bell in the heathen temple that was 
only in the next compound, fell upon her ears 
with the muffled sound that distance lends. 

And what strange pictures were coming and 
going with the twinkling of the stars ! 

Was that an ivy covered church tower with 
the polar star shining steadily over it ? 

Why yes, it must be her own church that she 
used to attend when she was a girl at home, and 
hark ! there was a sound of singing. She half 
raised herself from her lounge-chair to catch the 
words : 

" The least we do for Jesus 
Will be precious in His sight." 

Over and over again the congregation seemed 
to be repeating the two lines like a chorus. And 
now her vision grew clearer, and she could see 
right inside the church. Oh dear, how comical 



70 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

it all was, and she laughed softly to herself as 
she saw a man taking round a collecting plate, 
and the gayly dressed ladies dropping three 
penny pieces into it from their expensively 
kidded fingers. She could hear quite distinctly 
the mean little jingle the tiny coins made, and 
paused in her observations to wonder if it were 
possible for three-penny pieces to blush at the 
various uses they were put to. 

But her attention was wandering, and she 
wanted to find out what her friends were doing 
in the old church she knew so well. 

Why, it must be a missionary meeting, for 
there was a large diagram of -India hanging in 
front of the pulpit ; how terribly black the great 
map was except just here and there where the 
twinkling lesser lights made tiny white spots. 

Another transformation, and the stars joined 
in procession and marched out of church, and 
some of them formed into groups from which 
came words of gay talk and happy laughter. 

" Don t forget the picnic to-morrow. The 
railway ticket is only two shillings, first-class 
fare," came a voice that seemed to belong to the 
man in the moon. " If the rain holds off, we 
shall have a delightful day, and the cost will not 
exceed five shillings each." " How many are 
joining us? " chorused the seven sisters of Pleai- 
des. " We expect quite fifty," nodded out sol 
emn old Orion. 

How those stars would persist in changing and 



Her Children by Adoption 71 

revealing fresh pictures every moment to that 
fanciful brain on the flat-roofed bungalow in 
Central India ! 

Quick, why there is old Mr. Thomas, the white- 
haired treasurer of the church, counting over the 
collection. 

" I ll count it again to be sure it is right," he 
murmured. " Two pounds, nine shillings and four 
and one-halfpence, I ll make it up to three 
pounds. I can do without my new umbrella for 
another month anyhow. There must have been 
a hundred and fifty people here to-night less 
than fourpence ahead, and our young folks are 
off to that expensive picnic to-morrow." 

The church vestry faded away, and the stars 
began tumbling about in a most indecorous 
fashion for such ancient works of creation, until 
they assumed the likeness of thousands of tiny 
fairy lamps resolving themselves into letters and 
words and then sentences. 

" If our least is also our greatest, it will indeed 
be precious in His sight." 

The glowing illuminated words hurt the eyes 
of the lounger on the cane chair, as she con 
tinued gazing at them, and with a guilty start of 
one caught sleeping she roused herself up and 
rubbed her eyes, rose from her seat, took a few 
turns up and down the roof, and finally made a 
detour to her room, slipped through a window, 
and prepared to lie down : but soon her thoughts 
ran riot again. 



72 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

" It is far too hot to sleep. It was almost un 
bearable outside, and it is really a hundred times 
worse in this stifling room. I ll take a drink of 
water and really make an effort to get off to 
sleep." She crossed the room to where the 
cooja of water stood, picked it up to pour the 
water into the glass, but instead of the expected 
water, with a slippery splutter, out came a frog, 
that seemed very astonished to find itself in such 
close quarters, and so unexpectedly disturbed 
from the delicious cool immersion that it must 
have been enjoying for hours. " I don t think I 
shall relish the frog s bath water to drink," said 
Hilda to herself, " so I ll just lie down and close 
my eyes with stern determination." 

She suited the action to the word, crept be 
neath the mosquito curtains, and made a valiant 
attempt to woo " nature s sweet restorer." She 
closed her eyes again and again, but they seemed 
to open without any exercise of will power, and 
whether open or shut, the small meshes of the 
mosquito nets would assume the most fantastic 
shapes imaginable, and there she lay quite against 
her will watching the ever-varying forms and 
figures that came and went with lightning 
rapidity. 

In a few minutes she forgot the heat, and her 
effort to sleep in spite of her surroundings : she 
forgot the fact that she was enclosed within mos 
quito curtains, as her interest was aroused in the 
certainty that there were human faces framed in 



Her Children by Adoption 73 

every little round mesh. Ah! now they were 
clearer and she could see plainly that they were 
the faces of Hindu widows. In another second 
they began to move with a steady movement 
round and round the bed. Oh! what crowds 
there were, little and big, young and old, but all 
with the impress of India s widowhood upon 
them. Some of them had let their saris fall from 
their heads revealing their shaven hideousness ; 
others had barely a rag to wind round them, to 
cover the emaciated state of their poor bodies. 

From the little girl, right on to the old woman 
who had spent years of married life with her 
lord and master, all were stripped of their jewels, 
disfigured and made repulsive looking with their 
shaven heads, clad in the scantiest of garments, 
and shewing faces dull and hopeless with the 
pent-up misery of their darkened lives. On, on 
they went with almost military precision, in 
a never ending procession. Hilda tried to count 
them but they came in such bewildering multi 
tudes that her task was hopeless. She tried 
to stretch out her arms to lay the touch of sym 
pathy upon them, but they hung like leaden 
weights by her side. She tried to speak but the 
words that were in her heart would not make 
themselves heard. 

" My sisters, I long, oh, how I long to help 
you and brighten your lives with a little of 
earth s blessed sunshine. Jesus the Friend of 
women, loves you and cares for you. I ll teach 



74 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

you how to come to Him for relief from your 
burdens inflicted not by God, but by men 
who frame their laws out of hearts corrupted 
through their evil conceptions of the deity." 

" There are too many of us ! " came the pitiful 
answer to the unspoken thoughts. " You are 
only one, and there are millions of us. Those 
coming up behind can t catch the faintest echo 
of your voice. It is only a few of us quite near 
that can hear." 

" Come over and help us," clamoured loudly 
the child wives, the miserable, frail girl mothers, 
the gosha women of high degree shut up in the 
thousands .of harems throughout the land, the 
beautiful dancing girls attached to the idol 
temples, and given over to the vices of the 
priestly servitors in whose train they followed. 
" Come over and help us," demanded the famish 
ing ignorant children that swarmed like ants 
over all the land. " Come over and help us," 
came the winning gentle accents of the Heavenly 
Friend of the weary and heavy laden ones of all 
the earth. 

Surely the room was growing darker, for sud 
denly the dreary forms of the millions of widows, 
and the beckoning fingers of the desperate 
pleaders for help, melted away, and as they dis 
appeared a flash of lightning lit up the room as 
with sudden electricity, and then loud peals 
of thunder followed till the bungalow vibrated 
with the sound. 



Her Children by Adoption 75 

Hilda sprang from her bed as flash succeeded 
flash, threw open the door on the balcony and 
in a few seconds was intently watching a clouded 
sky. 

Another flash, a loud report, and oh ! such a 
lovely, delicious smell of rain. Another minute 
and a soft patter, patter fell on her strained ears, 
the softness of the falling rain-drops grew louder 
and louder, and oh ! thank the Lord, yes, it was 
really raining, and raining in good earnest, not a 
passing shower, but a heavy refreshing down 
pour. The girl stood watching like one mes 
merized, as though the falling rain was perhaps 
only a part of her night s visions too ; but by 
and by a beautiful cooling sense of refreshment 
crept over her : she could breathe better, and the 
oppression seemed lifted from her head and 
mind. 

She looked at her watch. Four o clock in the 
morning. There were yet two hours before 
chota hazari. 1 

Again she threw herself on her bed, and as 
though by magic, the music of the rain-drops 
had banished visions, fancies, dreams nay the 
stern realities of the missionary s life into 
oblivion, and Hilda slept peacefully in that 
land where the sons and daughters of men 
walked amidst darkness that was as the shadow 
of death. 

1 Early breakfast. 



VII 

GODS WHICH SEE NOT, NOR HEAR, 
NOR KNOW." 

JUST a short drive over the railway lines, 
through the narrow evil smelling streets of 
the bazaar, and they had reached the white 
road that stretched for miles through the bare 
rocky country of the Ballapura .district. There 
had been an attempt made by a beneficent gov 
ernment to plant trees on each side of the road, 
but nature alone was responsible for the fact that 
trees would not flourish in the hard rock bound 
soil where they were vainly trying to find a con 
genial home ; so instead of the desirable shady 
avenue of trees there was just the gaunt spectre 
of what would be trees if they could. 

" Billy," the mission pony was in a good 
temper, and possessed the mind " to go," so that 
the seven miles between Ballapura and Lingapura 
were accomplished in less time than usual on the 
afternoon of the day following the storm, when 
Hilda and her two faithful companions set out to 
make their first visit to Lingapura, the village of 
idols and many deities. 

When Billy was determined to go his own 
pace, the horse-keeper knew by experience it 
76 



"Gods Which See Not" 77 

was the better part of valour to let him have his 
own way ; and experience also taught the occu 
pants of the cart that shaking, jolting, and sud 
den lurches into each others arms were to be 
considered as trivial incidents by the way. 

There was always a sense of wild exhilaration 
in riding behind Billy because he belonged to 
that uncertain class of animals which might be 
deemed untrustworthy, in so much that he might 
accomplish his task satisfactorily to himself in 
stead of to those in authority over him : his own 
little jokes consisted in many unexpected ma 
noeuvres. Sometimes they found vent in stand 
ing perfectly still, or in suddenly starting forward 
and in spinning round and round after the 
fashion of a humming top, or perhaps in backing 
precipitately into a wide ditch overgrown with 
prickly pear, and possibly sheltering a few snakes. 

But to-day he bounded forward, and never 
paused until his seven miles were accomplished, 
and the horse-keeper drew him up covered with 
white foam, and panting with the exertion of his 
mad gallop. 

" Rub him down well, horse-keeper, and take 
him out of the shafts until we return," said Hilda, 
as she with Ruth and Mary prepared to walk 
across the burning ground to find out the village 
that was supposed to be sheltering at the base of 
some isolated rocks that rose majestically from 
the low level of the surrounding country. 

For a time the three women walked on in 



78 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

silence, and then Ruth said, with a smile that re 
vealed a full set of shining teeth with the slight 
est suspicion of pink upon them as the result 
of her afternoon betel, 

" Billy was a very good pony to-day." 

" Yes, indeed, he brought us along splendidly. 
The rain has put new life into him, as well as 
giving us some fresh energy." 

" Who was the Mohammedan we passed just 
before we came to the river bed? Did you 
recognize him, Ruthamma ? " 

" Yes, Missyamma, that was Osman, Abu 
Taleb s emissary. He often follows the Bible- 
women while they are at work in the bazaar, and 
tries to argue with them out of the Koran : and 
sometimes their quiet time with the women in 
their homes is quite spoilt." 

" I hope you and Mary will never allow your 
selves to be drawn into open argument with a 
man of that kind. Such public disputations do 
far more harm than good. Any of the mission 
aries are quite willing to talk upon religious sub 
jects in their own homes with those who really 
desire to know the truth of our Christian teach- 
ing." 

" Oh, yes, Osman always tries to say things 
about our religion to make people laugh, and 
then as soon as he has awakened their admiration 
for his own cleverness he begins to expound pas 
sages from the Koran." 

At this point the conversation ceased, for the 



"Gods Which See Not" 79 

difficulties of the way were increasing, and it was 
all the three women could manage to do to pick 
their way in single file over the boulders and be 
tween the clumps of prickly bushes that throve 
splendidly in spite of long drought and barren soil. 

They had been walking on for quite half an 
hour in silence, when Hilda stopped to readjust 
her topee ; and to ask, " Is it much further ? 
We appear no nearer to the big rock than we 
did ten minutes ago." 

" I think we shall soon see some of the outer 
walls of the village now, dear Missy," said Ruth 
in an encouraging tone. " Look, a few steps 
further there is an idol shrine, so we must be 
getting nearer the houses." 

" We heard there were fifteen different temples 
and idols in Lingapura, and I suppose this is one 
of them, set up by the way to guard the approach 
to the village," added Mary, who was struggling 
on in the rear. 

Before arriving in India, Hilda had heard much 
of the magnificence of the temples of the land. 
The very word temple carried with it an idea of 
stately splendour, and so it came to pass that in 
company with other awakenings she had experi 
enced many a rude shock upon hearing such 
structures as the one now before her dignified 
by the name of " temple." 

Of architectural beauty there was none. At 
the foot of a stunted tree which seemed to spring 
suddenly out of the ground, and to live on in 



80 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

lonely state, a few bamboo rods had been placed 
in an upright position something after the fashion 
of scaffolding ; other rods, sticks and dried leaves 
had been placed to form a roof for the im 
promptu little building, and beneath the roof, 
ranged in a row at the very foot of the tree 
were seven upright stones, the three larger ones 
in the middle of the line being flanked on each 
side by two smaller ones. Upon each stone 
there was a large dab of reddish paint. 

To the front of the row of stones, but well to 
the right stood a fairly large flat piece of granite, 
and on it rested a round flat dish containing a 
few dregs of cocoanut oil, while scattered before 
the stone representations of their deity were the 
remains of offerings from the devotees, in the 
form of dried jessamine blooms. The visitors 
peeped into the shrine to see if there was a poo- 
jaree about to direct them on their way, but the 
place was left to silence and desertion ; and so 
they continued their journey beyond the sacred 
tree, and along the road that began to widen out 
a little and so looked more inviting. Another 
five minutes of struggling on, and a second tem 
ple was reached. Here the worker in stone had 
been employed, and the result of his handicraft 
was seen in a stone building, if a three sided 
place can be called a building. This was fifteen 
to sixteen feet high with perhaps a breadth and 
length of between three and four feet. 

A few rough blocks of stone formed steps up 



"Gods Which See Not" 81 

to the exposed entrance of the place, and Hilda 
expressed the wish that they should all sit down on 
these steps to rest, and obtain what little benefit 
they could from the shade of the stone walls. 

Within the temple were three upright granite 
slabs, two of them having a snake carved upon 
them, and the third showed the entwined figures 
of two snakes like a chain. All the slabs were 
hung with withered flowers worked into wreaths, 
that shewed grotesquely against the background 
of gaudy red and yellow paint. 

But time was too precious to allow much loiter 
ing by the way, and soon the toilsome walk was 
renewed, and after completing another half mile 
or so of rough travelling the desired village came 
into view. The entrance was guarded by two 
temples far more pretentious in appearance than 
those already passed. In them were huge im 
ages of Basavana, the bull sacred to the worship 
of Shiva the destroying power of the Hindu 
Triad. Temples, images, houses all presented 
such a dirty neglected appearance that in after 
years Hilda always thought of Lingapura as the 
dirtiest place she ever visited. 

" At last, Mary, we have really reached our 
destination. I began to wonder if you had been 
misinformed about the place." 

" Look, Missyamma, there is the Mussulman," 
came the unexpected answer. " He must know 
of a short path to the village, for we passed him 
long before we came to the river bed." 



82 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

" Yes, and here come the city fathers to en 
quire the object of our visit. You better speak 
first, Ruth, and I will follow," said Hilda, as five 
or six men appeared from the shadow of a door 
way and looked very much as though they ob 
jected to the presence of three strange women. 

" Salaam, Aiyar," began Ruth, giving the ordi 
nary salutation, but only two men of the com 
pany made any attempt to return the greeting. 

" May we come into the village and talk to the 
women and children for a little while ? " 

" Who is the white woman ? " was the reply. 
Hilda thought her opportunity to speak for her 
self had come, and so she said : 

" I have come a long way to see your women 
and children, because a Friend who loves me well 
is very much interested in them too, and has sent 
me to give them a message from Himself." 

" She knows our language," said one man to 
another, " shall we let her in ? " 

" See, she wears bangles like our women, but 
the rest of her is altogether wrong," said another, 
quite ignoring the fact that Hilda understood 
these side remarks. 

" How many rupees will you give us, if we lis 
ten to your message ? " chimed in a dirty un 
clothed worshipper of Vishnu. 

" We cannot buy nor sell that which we have 
come many miles to tell you. The day is hot, 
and we have walked far. We are feeling tired. 
May we sit down for a while under the shadow 



"Gods Which See Not" 83 

of this temple ? " and without waiting for permis 
sion Hilda sat down, while her two companions, 
like a faithful bodyguard, stood on each side of 
her : but Indian village courtesy could not allow 
such a proceeding, and at a signal from one of 
the men a woman came forward with a rough, 
dark grey blanket in her hand, and spread it 
upon the stone steps of the temple to form a 
more luxurious seat for the visitors. 

Hilda had long since learned to accept the in 
evitable with regard to the Kamblis l thus pro 
vided. She infinitely preferred dirt she could see 
to the dirty mysteries that the colour of the prof 
fered blanket so effectually hid. 

Apparently the news of the new arrivals soon 
spread through the village ; for gradually the lit 
tle knot around the three women increased until 
there must have been some twenty to thirty 
curious pairs of eyes fixed upon them. 

Meanwhile Hilda was calling to her aid all the 
Kanarese she was mistress of, to chat away pleas 
antly to those nearest to her, and others further 
away were straining eyes and ears to catch all that 
was passing. Last night s rain ; its effect upon 
the price of grain ; the possibility of being able 
to plough in two days time if the rain fell again, 
and various other items came in for comment. 

Still the crowd kept gathering, and filling up 
the open space, and what a crowd it was to the 
interested onlookers ! Old men, tottering on the 

1 Native blankets. 



84 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

verge of the grave, their dirty brown faces lined 
and seamed with more than care and anxiety. 
Young men in the first flush of their youth and 
vigour, yet with the stamp of their degraded lives 
plainly visible men who ought to have been fol 
lowing the plough, planting, sowing, and reap 
ing, but who were passing their days in idleness 
and sin, waiting for the rain to make their forced 
daily tasks possible. Women of all ages ; girl 
mothers with their unclothed babies upon their 
hips ; wretched, childless wives dying with self- 
imposed hardships to win the favour of the gods 
to grant them a son; children ^in all stages of 
undress and no-dress, teasing, fighting and 
generally squabbling with each other. Boys 
in the early stages of smallpox; others just 
recovering. Men, women and children, with 
bloodshot, streaming eyes, proved a strong 
attraction for the thousands of small black 
flies that seemed greedily imbibing the sickening 
matter that oozed from the diseased eyes of the 
sufferers. 

It was no use speaking to a few now, for the 
audience had arrived, and that apparently with 
out any effort, so Hilda paused for a second before 
striking a few chords on her concertina and sing 
ing in the musical language of her listeners, 

" Art thou weary, art thou languid, 

Art thou sore distressed ? 
Come to Me, saith One, and coming 
Be at rest." 



"Gods Which See Not" 85 

The Bible-women joined in the singing, and as 
they proceeded with verse after verse of the 
lovely hymn, a solemn stillness settled down over 
that strange, ignorant, diseased, heathen crowd. 

The music, the singing, the singers seemed to 
exercise a strange fascination over them, and even 
the children who had been so restless a few min 
utes earlier, settled themselves into comfortable, 
listening attitudes. 

At the conclusion of the hymn, there was only 
a moment s pause, for Ruth knew her opportu 
nity too well to let it slip by, and in words suit 
able to her hearers she simply but graphically ex 
plained the meaning of what had just been sung. 

" She is talking about a new Swami," said a 
voice in the front of the crowd. 

" What is the name of your Swami ? " called 
out some one a little further away. 

" Where does he live ? How do you do pooja 
to him ? " asked others, barely giving the speak 
ers time to answer one question before propound 
ing the next. 

The missionary and her two helpers forgot the 
fatigue of their journey, and the distance they 
must travel before reaching home, in the pleasure 
of answering the crude questions put to them, 
and in seeking to bring the light of the gospel to 
the darkened minds around them, until they 
were all startled by a cry, " The buffaloes are 
coming," and in imitation of their audience, they 
rose quickly to make room for the fierce horned 



86 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

creatures that demanded the whole breadth of 
the street for their own use. Then it was, they 
noticed the sun had dipped behind the rock at 
the foot of which the village nestled, and remem 
bering their homeward journey they reluctantly 
prepared to leave the people who had listened so 
intelligently. 

Many were the salaams returned to them by 
the villagers at their parting, and one of them on 
behalf of the others gave them a warm invitation 
to return at an early date. 

With stately dignity he said, " in this village 
we worship all the gods we know of. The one 
you have been telling us of seems different from 
those we already know. We would like to 
worship Him too, if you will show us the way. 
The words you have spoken are good words. 
Come and tell them to us over again." The three 
women had entered the village silently and alone, 
not at all sure of the reception that awaited them, 
but they were not allowed to depart in a similar 
style, for quite a procession followed them at a 
respectful distance, until they were well past the 
temples that stood in such grim guardianship 
over the entrance of the village. As they were 
striking out into a path leading to the left, one 
man came forward, and with much salaaming of 
fered to guide them on to the main road by the 
shortest path. 

Only too glad to be saved the extra walking, 
they accepted his proffered kindness, and soon 



"Gods Which See Not" 87 

found themselves at a point two miles distant 
from where the bandy had been left. 

Their guide saw no difficulty in this, but when 
Ruth explained the dilemma they were in, he set 
off at a sharp trot to summon the horse-keeper 
who was lying sleeping soundly in the carriage 
all unconscious of the flight of time. 

" That man has a good face," said Hilda. 
" There is not the same demoralized expression 
on it as many of the village men betray, but he is 
dreadfully thin." 

" We have had a good time, Missy, have we 
not ? the people were very interested. I believe 
there is prepared ground in Lingapura for the 
planting of the gospel seed." 

" I noticed the man who guided us here, never 
took his eyes off you, Ruth, when you were tell 
ing how Jesus was able and willing to give rest 
to burdened and anxious ones." 

" Osman the Mussulman, was hovering on the 
edge of the crowd all the time. His restless eyes 
were wandering here, there, and everywhere as 
though trying to pick out some special one," said 
Mary. 

" Did you notice a pretty little girl that tried 
to get close to Missyamma, and find out where 
the music came from ? " 

At this point Billy appeared in the distance, 
galloping over the road with feet that were either 
willing or frolicsome, none of the watchers could 
quite determine which. 



88 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

It was with difficulty the horse-keeper reined 
him in, and persuaded him to stand still while 
Hilda and the two native women climbed to their 
seats. 

The man who had saved them a long walk 
back to the highway still lingered, and then fear 
ful that the pony should start off on its mad gal 
lop once more, hastily produced from a fold of 
his turban a small withered lime, and bowing 
low, held it out at arm s length as an offering to 
Hilda. 

" Thank you very much, Appa ; I shall always 
remember your kindness to us to-day. I hope 
we shall soon meet you again. What is your 
name ? " said Hilda kindly. 

" I am Lingappa, the village carpenter," was 
his answer, but Billy was impatient and would 
wait no longer, before giving a few preliminary 
jumps, turns, and kicks in order to work himself 
up to the point of starting. 



VIII 

OSMAN S SUCCESS 

THE visit of the English lady to the vil 
lage of Lingapura caused a flutter of 
excitement that lasted for a few hours 
only, amongst the majority of those who had 
gathered to hear her speak. Only with few did 
it make any lasting impression, and of these few 
perhaps Lingappa, and his little daughter Sundari 
were the two who were to be the most influenced 
in the years to come by the message of peace 
and love that had reached their ears for the first 
time that sunny afternoon. Sundari s sharp eyes 
had detected the dreaded form of the Mussulman 
as he hovered on the edge of the crowd that had 
listened entranced to the gospel story for nearly 
two hours, and instead of following in the train 
of the other children as they rushed pell-mell out 
of the village to see the last of their unexpected 
visitors, she slipped quietly into her father s house 
to escape an encounter with her enemy, for so 
she instinctively felt Osman to be. Gradually 
the crowd that had collected at a moment s 
notice, melted away. Most of the women set 
to work to prepare such food as was within their 
limited means ; a few turned towards the well for 
89 



90 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

their final chatty of water, and Osman being left 
conspicuously alone looked around for Lingappa 
his victim ; but not seeing him, he crossed the 
narrow street and was soon at the door of the 
carpenter s house. 

He glanced through the open doorway, but 
the whole place seemed enshrouded with gloom ; 
then he coughed authoritatively, not the low sub 
dued cough that he affected to attract his master s 
attention, still even that sign of his near presence 
brought no response, so he lifted up his voice and 
gave the customary signal of the arrival of a vis 
itor by calling out in his loudest tones, " Amma, 
Amma," for he judged the master of the house 
must be absent. 

Sundari s mother still lay in a huddled heap 
weak from the effects of her attack of fever on 
the previous day, and faint for want of some 
nourishing food. Sundari crouched in the little 
cook room whither she had hastily fled as she 
heard the first sound of that warning cough on 
the threshold, and neither woman nor child gave 
any answer to the Mussulman s demand for ad 
mittance. 

The one kept silence through fear, and the 
other through indifference. 

The Mussulman had kept his eyes pretty well 
on Sundari all the afternoon, and he felt quite 
sure he had not been deceived as to whom the 
pretty rounded limbs, and the torn sari belonged 
when he noted her hasty retreat at the conclusion 



Osman s Success 91 

of the street preaching, and he also felt equally 
sure that she had not come out of the house 
again, so as she was the object of his search he 
followed his cry of, " Amma, Amma," by walking 
boldly into the darkened room. 

Coming suddenly out of the bright sunshine, 
the gloom of the house seemed deeper than it 
really was, and Osman had reached the few stone 
steps leading to the inner apartment before he 
was aware of their existence ; the result was a 
sharp collision between a pair of brown legs 
scantily protected by white muslin pants, and the 
smooth edge of the well worn steps. The poor 
man appeared to try a new acrobatic feat but his 
attempt at falling up ended in a most ungraceful 
sprawl, and a sharp cry of pain as he realized 
much damage had been done to his shin bones. 

With difficulty he gathered himself together 
and sat down on the dirty floor regardless of his 
spotless muslin undergarments, and began to 
think over his position if he should fail in his 
plans. 

He had worked his scheme out beautifully even 
to securing the services of two bullock drivers 
and their bandy to await his return at a given 
isolated spot between Ballapura and Lingapura, 
and into that waiting bandy he had fully deter 
mined Sundari should go. 

A bullock cart carelessly covered with thick 
sheeting so that the Mohammedan women were 
well concealed from all curious eyes was such a 



92 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

common sight in and around Ballapura that none 
would dream of stopping him and making dis 
agreeable enquiries. He meant to deliver the 
girl over to his master that night, and receive 
from his hands the receipted discharge of Lin- 
gappa s debt, and after that the rest would be 
easy. 

If he gained no more out of the scheme he 
would have at least the two buffaloes as his per 
quisite. He did not suppose Lingappa would 
make any fuss over the disappearance of his 
daughter. One Hindu girl more or less was of 
no account. If any talk were made he would 
suggest some evil spirit had decoyed her away, 
and that would be quite enough to arouse their 
superstitious fears. 

He would keep the receipt for the discharge 
debt, while he still held the debtor in his own 
power extorting interest from him as long as he 
could. Then in the end when it was impossible 
for the man to pay any more he would seize his 
few possessions and so enrich himself. 

" The sowcar can have the girl : he will soon 
tire of her. She will probably fade away, and 
grow ugly with her life in the harem, and I shall 
have the best of the bargain after all," he had 
concluded as he formulated his plans for the ab 
duction of the child. 

He had made an early start from Ballapura 
that morning, and had haunted the water-hole in 
the hope that Sundari would appear, and that a 



Osman s Success 93 

favourable opportunity would occur for picking 
up her light form and taking her to a place of 
concealment When the mission bandy had 
passed him in the afternoon, he was just on his 
way to Lingapura after ascertaining that the bul 
lock cart he required was in the appointed 
place. 

It was with the greatest impatience that he had 
hovered like a bird of ill-omen on the outskirts 
of the interested throng around Hilda and the 
two Bible-women. Ke cursed the fate that had 
brought the white faced Englishwoman to mar 
his plans ; but when the crowd dispersed and left 
him unnoticed he chuckled inwardly at the 
thought that a propitious moment had befriended 
him at last. 

But alas ! for the speedy execution of well laid 
Mussulman plans : those dirty stone steps were 
exactly in the right place to trip up feet that has 
tened to do evil. 

It was half an hour before the bruised emissary 
rose from his lowly seat : the gloom had in 
creased, and the stillness was so intense that 
Sundari ventured to breathe once more, and 
thought she would try to find out what had fallen 
down with more than a suspicion of heaviness. 

Osman s well trained ear caught the sound of 
her light footfall, and he held his breath while 
he braced himself to a mighty effort in case the 
child should come near him. 

" My mother, are you there ? " called Sundari, 



94 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

in frightened accents. " Did you hear the noise, 
what was it ? " 

" Help, help," cried the Mussulman ; " I am 
hurt, and it is getting dark. I cannot see where 
to go ; help me to rise, and your gods will re 
ward you." 

Sundari did not move ; for she knew the 
voice. " Give me some water, or I will call up a 
thousand devils to torment you." 

She heard the threat, and her heart bumped 
within her at an alarming rate while she reflected, 
that if the Mussulman were hurt he could do her 
no harm, and it would be better to give him a 
drop of water than to be doomed to the awful 
torments that she had always been taught devils 
could, and would inflict upon their victims. Her 
heart gave another wild throb as these thoughts 
chased each other through her brain, and with a 
sudden decision she picked up a chumbu of 
drinking water, and with hasty steps went to the 
place whence the sound of the man s voice 
came. 

She pushed the water within his reach and 
moved away, but again the voice tremblingly 
imploring her to put the refreshing draught to 
his lips, as his arms were hurt and he could not 
raise the vessel to his mouth, recalled her, and 
she felt a thrill of courage at the thought that if 
the man s arms were hurt, he could certainly do 
her no harm, and so moved with pity for his 
sufferings, she took up the chumbu once more, 



Osman s Success 95 

went down the steps, and held the cool drink to 
her enemy s lips. 

It seemed but the work of a second, as her 
compassionate little face bent over the fallen 
man, to press his dirty red handkerchief over her 
mouth, and throw an arm round her to prevent 
her escape. 

A smothered cry escaped her, as the chumbu 
fell with a clatter to the ground, and she knew 
herself to be imprisoned in an iron grip, while 
the handkerchief smelt, and tasted badly even in 
that atmosphere of vile odours. 

Her cry aroused her mother from the dull 
lethargy of mind caused by her poor fever-stricken 
body, but the purport of it did not pierce her 
benumbed brain, and consequently she made no 
effort to ascertain the cause of the outcry. 

Osman held the child tightly for a few min 
utes, until he felt her body gradually relax, and 
then he removed his prepared handkerchief from 
her mouth and smiled with deep satisfaction at 
the result of his clever manoeuvre. He laid the 
helpless little body on the ground and stepped 
outside the door to reconnoitre. His shins were 
still tender, and would hinder his making quick 
progress, but the fates were with him so far, and 
he felt confident they would not desert him at 
the final moment. 

Furtively he gazed up and down the narrow 
street, and even walked quickly to the next bend 
to see if the way were clear. Only a woman s 



96 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

sari fluttered within a doorway, and with her dis 
appeared the last sign of any human being. 
Having cultivated the leisurely stately move 
ments of the rich man in imitation of his master, 
it was difficult for him to hurry his steps, more 
especially with the pain from his badly damaged 
shins as a constant companion, but in an in 
credibly short time he was back again in Ling- 
appa s house and had raised the unconscious 
Sundari in his arms, and nerved himself to make 
a dash for concealment. 

How beautifully deserted the streets were ! for 
not a soul witnessed his exit through the car 
penter s door, down the street, round the first 
corner, and behind the huge stone image of 
Basavana in the temple at the front of the village. 
He laid his limp burden down, and prepared to 
make himself comfortable for a few hours, deem 
ing that he would be wise not to run the gauntlet 
of the village until the inhabitants had settled 
down for their night s rest. 

Everything was very quiet, except for the 
barking of a few stray dogs, and the echo of an 
occasional footfall from some passer-by, and 
Osman, knowing that he would be perfectly 
secure in his resting-place for some hours at 
least, lay down to rest, but the time passed all 
too slowly, and as the wick in the little earthen 
lamp spluttered and flickered, and finally went 
out, he felt tired of his cramped position, and 
wished for some supper. 



Osman s Success 



97 



At last the struggling moonbeams found their 
way into the darkest corners of the temple, and 
seemed to rest like a benediction upon Sundari s 
pale brown face, and to search out the man crouch 
ing so guiltily behind the huge idol. 

" Lucky for me these degraded people worship 
such monstrosities," soliloquized the refugee. 
" The broad back of this dumb ox makes a 
grand hiding-place, but I ll take a look round 
and see if the way is clear. It is time I was on 
my journey to Ballapura." Thinking thus, he 
emerged from his place of concealment, but 
drew hurriedly back to the friendly shadows as 
he saw the figure of a man outlined in the temple 
entrance. 

" Only the poojaree come to replenish the 
lamps," he thought, but nevertheless he drew his 
breath carefully lest he should betray himself. 

" If the child moves now, I shall be found 
out," was his next thought, and once more he 
applied his disgusting handkerchief to her pretty 
little sensitive mouth. 

To his dismay, the figure in the doorway did 
not move, and presently another, and another 
appeared until some half dozen men seemed to 
be gathered in conclave over a matter that caused 
them deep thought. 

When all the expected ones had arrived they 
sat on the ground, and settled themselves to talk, 
and one of them produced a few green leaves 
from a fold of his turban, and disclosed some 



98 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

delicious bits of betel which he shared with all 
alike. 

They sat in silence for a long time, and Osman 
felt that he was more of a prisoner than he de 
sired to be. The chewing of the betel so close 
to him made him think longingly of his own 
supper awaiting him seven or eight miles dis 
tant. 

Presently one of the men spoke, but the 
listening Mussulman could not catch what he 
said, and only a few disconnected words floated 
in his direction. Then one voice broke out in 
great wrath, and Osman heard without any further 
trouble. 

" Why wait for the Dipavali festival ? We are 
starving, and there is plenty of rice in Ballapura. 
Let us take it next market-day." 

" No, no," came in more cautious accents : 
" there will be crowds in the street of Ballapura 
on the night of the Dipavali, and Abdallah s 
grain store is in a dark part of the town : that 
will be our opportunity." 

" Abdallah is powerful, and so is Abu Taleb 
the so wear : they will put us in prison if we fail." 

" We shall not fail," said another in tones of 
assurance, " and remember we are dying of hun 
ger, and so are our little ones, while this man has 
more than enough grain to feed Lingapura for a 
year. Besides, have you forgotten that we have 
chosen the festival of Lakshmi, the goddess of 
prosperity ? She will certainly favour our plans." 



Osman s Success 



99 



" Are all agreed to help in this scheme for de 
spoiling the men who grow fat on our leanness ? " 

" Yes, yes, yes," came in somewhat faltering 
accents from the weird group in the moonlight, and 
then as though that assent finished the business, 
silence fell once more amongst them, and even 
as silently as they arrived so they dispersed, all 
but one who threw himself down in the temple, 
and his regular breathing soon assured Osman 
that he must be fast asleep. 

The wily schemer congratulated himself that 
fate was again in his favour ; for he had over 
heard a plot that certainly would be to his ad 
vantage to disclose a little later on : but mean 
while he would try and extricate himself from 
his present surroundings, and so he cautiously 
stepped forth, took a bird s-eye view around, and 
satisfied himself that all the village was sleeping. 
Returning to his hiding-place, he picked up his 
burden, and sallied forth into the moonlight, 
stepping carefully over several prostrate, sleeping 
forms before he struck the short path leading to 
the main road. 

Sundari was thin and light for she had not 
been over-fed for some months past, and yet the 
Mussulman found that she became very weighty 
as he pursued his guilty flight. 

He kept casting uneasy glances in all direc 
tions fearful lest he was being followed. 

Once his heart almost stood still with fear, as 
he fancied some one was approaching him along 



loo Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

the road he was taking, and indeed he was only 
just in time to beat a hasty retreat behind some 
clumps of prickly-pear when a belated way 
farer passed on with weary steps. 

" By the holy prophet s beard, it is Lingappa 
himself," he muttered as he recognized the 
passer-by. " Allah is good, my schemes still 
prosper." 

He rested awhile longer, to let Lingappa get 
well out of sight, and again resumed his quick 
walk towards the appointed rendezvous. 

On, on, he went, till with hunger, fatigue, and 
the weight of the still unconscious child, the 
perspiration streamed from every pore in his 
body. But he persevered. The game was too 
near the winning-point to dream of fainting at 
the last moment. 

He judged it must be long past midnight ere 
he could hope to reach the bullock cart, waiting 
for him behind a disused chatram, 1 but he pressed 
forward and soon had the satisfaction of seeing 
in the distance the shadow cast by the cart that 
was to relieve him of his burden. 

The bullocks were curled up in the attitude 
peculiar to their sleeping moments, and the 
drivers had made themselves comfortable on the 
straw in the cart, long before Osman appeared ; 
but a few kicks administered, not by the Mussul 
man s bare foot, roused the sleepers who quickly 
hitched in the bullocks, and soon the party were 
1 Rest-house. 



Osman s Success 101 

moving along in the leisurely style that befitted 
the occasion. 

It was an hour before sunrise ere Ballapura 
was reached, and Osman decided he must wait 
for the night to fall before Sundari could be 
introduced to her new master, so he lifted her 
out of the cart, and carried her into his own 
house rejoicing in heart that his plans had ma 
tured so far successfully. 



IX 

THE VOICE OF CONSCIENCE 

LINGAPPA stood perfectly still, a solitary 
figure in the middle of the white road, 
until the mission Jutka was well out of 
sight. He strained his eyes as though he would 
still follow it along the winding way that led to 
distant Ballapura. 

Hilda Roi, in her turn gazed and gazed at the 
man, longing that she might have lingered yet 
awhile to talk with him, and hear something of 
what was passing through his mind; for she 
fancied there was a beseeching look in his 
haunted eyes. 

Although distance hid him from her view, she 
could not shut out the vision of him standing 
there, a poor, abject skeleton of a man, with a 
mere rag twisted round his waist and loins, the 
dull hopelessness of his life portrayed in every 
feature, and his very attitude one of utter despair. 

Why was she so strangely attracted by this 
man ? He was only an example amongst many 
millions, who that very day were struggling for a 
pitiful existence amidst the thick darkness of 
heathen India. 

Surging, struggling, crowding millions of men, 
jo? 



The Voice of Conscience 103 

women and helpless little children with minds 
enslaved, and lives darkened because of the 
chains of error, superstition, and idolatry that 
bound them on every side, tormented with fear 
of devil and god, worshipping or abusing one or 
the other as either fear or disgust dictated. 

Struggling for physical existence, and never 
knowing the luxury of being above want, the 
only relief to which they could look forward was 
beginning another form of life in the next birth 
which might be an improvement on their present 
condition, or might, nay probably would, be 
something worse than the life they led at present, 
because they could never be sure of what offended 
or pleased the millions of deities that held sway 
over their puny lives. 

At last Lingappa moved from where he stood, 
and turned his steps homeward. He fully 
meant to reach the village before nightfall, but 
he felt strangely disinclined for much further ex 
ertion, and decided to rest for a time. Accord 
ingly he wandered off the well worn track, and 
found a spot where he could think without fear 
of disturbance. But this was a new desire on 
his part. Why should he want solitude in which 
to indulge his thoughts, he asked himself. He 
was not ill, and why he should be sufficiently 
tired to need a rest was a mystery to him. Had 
the English Dhorasani cast a spell over him ? for 
it was after listening to her singing and her 
strange new music that this peculiar new sensa- 



104 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

tion fluttered within him. At this terrible sug 
gestion he cast a look of fear around. Perhaps 
after all, she was not an English lady as her 
native companions had affirmed. Now he came 
to think the matter over she was not at all like 
the English judge whom he had seen driving 
through the streets of Ballapura. If he had not 
with his own eyes, seen her get into that cart he 
would have thought her a visitor from Kailasa. 1 
Indeed, his object in offering to shew her the 
short path, had been to see if the earth opened 
and swallowed her, or if she disappeared through 
the medium of storm and fire. But she had 
got into the cart and driven off in a very ordi 
nary way, and had even received with her own 
hands the lime he had tremblingly offered as 
he thought she might possibly be an incarnation 
of the Deity. His fear passed away as he re 
membered the smile with which his offering had 
been accepted, and he even experienced a thrill, 
that he could not have defined as pleasure, when 
he dwelt on the thoughts that perhaps a revela 
tion had been afforded him to shew the gods still 
smiled upon his efforts to please them one and all. 
But such pleasant thoughts were of short 
duration, for there was that indefinable some 
thing at work within him whispering quite 
gently but very emphatically that he was wrong 
in his conclusions, and again he glanced round 
to see if any one was near, for it seemed as 

1 Heaven. 



The Voice of Conscience 105 

though the feeling had become a voice which 
said, " No, no, Appa. She was indeed only an 
Englishwoman, bearing to you and others a 
message of the Divine love of the one True 
Living God : she was not one of the millions of 
gods you have worshipped so long." 

It was not surprising that Lingappa should 
have grasped something of the afternoon s teach 
ing, for like all other village boys he had 
attended a pial school, and his mind had there 
fore received a little training. But it was an en 
tirely new process for him to attempt to reason 
about what he had heard. Hitherto the words 
of the Brahman priests had been accepted 
blindly ; but now a new power had unconsciously 
to himself been awakened in his life. 

" Are you experiencing much weariness ? 
Come near unto Jesus, and be at rest, were the 
words they sang," replied Lingappa to the voice 
he fancied was speaking to him. 

" They said Jesus, the true Incarnation of the 
Living God, would give rest to the tired people, 
joy to the sad ones, peace to those worried with 
cares and anxieties ; and when this life was over 
He would take them to be always with Him in a 
beautiful place like Kailasa." The man spoke 
softly, for the voice to which he was responding 
seemed low and tender. He was glad that 
he was alone, because he argued if a lot of other 
people had been near, some others might have 
heard that sweet voice instead of himself. 



106 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

" Come near unto Jesus, and be at rest," 
echoed again and again in his ears. 

" I don t know how to come. I want rest 
from always paying interest to Abu Taleb, and I 
get very tired of making offerings in all the 
temples. There are so many of them : but 
I never get rest by going to Basavana Genesa, 
Maha Shesha, and all the others whose names 
the poojaree knows. It is the priests business 
to say those over, and not for me to try to 
remember. Yes, I ll try this Jesus. One God 
more or less to worship will not make much 
difference, but I forgot the people from Ballapura 
did not say where the shrine of this Jesus was, 
and how can I worship Him, if I cannot take 
flowers and fruit to lay before His image ? " 

" Yes, they told you the shrine was within 
you." 

Lingappa was positive now that some one 
must be hiding in the bushes, so he rose from 
the ground to look around him, but he could see 
no living creature, and yet as he resumed his 
lowly seat, the words came again more distinctly 
than before. 

" Yes, they told you the shrine of Jesus was 
within you." 

He moved away without attempting to reply, 
determined to continue his homeward journey, 
but the spell of the vast solitude descended upon 
him, and seemed to compel him to linger yet by 
the way ; and even when he had walked quite a 



The Voice of Conscience 107 

mile from his first resting-place, he could not get 
away from the impression that some one was 
talking to him. 

" The shrine of Jesus, the Rest-giver, is within 
you." 

" Within me, within me," and he came to 
a standstill in utter consternation as the mean 
ing of the words forced themselves upon him. 

" Our priests consecrate the shrines, and the 
images we make to Vishnu, Shiva, Krishna, 
Durga, Lakshmi, and all the others, and then the 
spirits of the gods come and dwell in them, but 
they never spoke to me like this one does. 
Within me ! If the shrine is there, then the god 
must be there too. I can t see or feel any 
shrine, but I can hear the voice." 

He had never before reasoned in such a man 
ner ; but at that moment conviction entered the 
soul of whose existence he had never so much as 
heard, and he knew certainly that the voice with 
which he had been communing, was a super 
natural one. 

Having reached this point of conviction, to say 
that he was frightened, does not express by one 
ioto the awful fears that assailed him. He put 
his hands to his ears to shut out, if possible, the 
sound of the voice, but try as he would, it was 
there, it was within him, and he could not get 
away from it. He forgot his debt, his lime trees, 
his buffaloes ; he forgot Osman, the Mussulman, 
his desire for a son to succeed him as village car- 



io8 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

penter ; he forgot the threatened famine, and his 
own starving condition ; and he forgot his prom 
ised vow to make extra offerings if the rain 
would only fall. He forgot everything in his 
overwhelming anxiety to get away from himself, 
and that low, soft voice within him. 

Over and over again he assured himself that 
the voice was a new torment for his listening to 
the words of the strangers that afternoon : all 
the deities were offended, and they had sent one 
of their number to live inside him, and he would 
always be hearing the talking : no one else would 
hear it, only he was doomed to this punishment. 
The part he could not understand was why rest, 
peace, joy, and heaven should be the subjects 
upon which the voice kept talking. The stern 
Shiva would never speak like that, for he de 
lighted in destroying his victims. Perhaps after 
all, the protector, Vishnu, was responsible for what 
had happened to him, and so he reasoned on un 
til overcome with fatigue, hunger, and fear, he 
tripped and fell forward, hurt his head against a 
boulder in his path, and was soon deaf to the 
familiar voice within him and to all claims of na 
ture, for he had quietly fainted away. Lingappa 
did not recover sufficiently to move for some 
hours, and continued to lie on, where he had 
fallen, in a half dazed condition. But as full 
consciousness took possession of him, he remem 
bered his afternoon and evening s experience, 
and sat up with a beating heart to listen once 



The Voice of Conscience 109 

more if the voice were still within him. To his 
relief he did not hear it so distinctly. Mechan 
ically he made his way homewards, but it was 
with faltering steps and bent head, or else of a 
surety he must have seen the Mussulman hasten 
ing along with that uncomfortable and heavy- 
looking bundle in his arms. 

The way was very familiar along the beaten 
track, past six shrines and two temples, up one 
straggling uneven street, round a corner, and he 
was at the entrance of the home of his fore 
fathers. 

The smell of the buffaloes revived him, and he 
thought at once of the neglected animals food : 
it was many hours past the time for their usual 
evening allowance, but he could not sleep him 
self until they had been attended to. 

He supposed his wife and little daughter 
would be asleep long ere this, and so he did not 
enter the inner apartment at all that night, but 
instead sought his favourite resting-place on the 
pial, and without sleeping awaited with the half 
dreamy state of weakness for morning to dawn. 

The shrill crow of the early rooster announced 
daybreak at last, and the sleepy villagers began 
to arouse themselves for such tasks as each new 
day brought in its train The dogs hailed the 
breaking day with barks and growls ; the crows 
set up their incessant " caw, caw," the men and 
some of the women, carrying their babies with 
them, went ^off to the fields, the small boys as- 



no Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

sembled at school and began their endless repeti 
tions, the women who were too old to work 
hobbled about and tended the babies left in their 
charge, the unmarried girls ran on errands or 
quarrelled with each other by way of diversion, 
but no bright-eyed Sundari appeared, and no 
sound came from the sick woman lying so still 
in Lingappa s house. 

No one marvelled, for there were scores of 
fever-stricken mothers and wives in the village, 
and far too many little girls to have to scheme 
and arrange for in the way of marriage. Ling- 
appa stirred himself from force of habit, fas 
tened his cloth securely round him, placed his 
dirty turban straight, and then went in search of 
some water to clean his teeth. It was then he 
espied the family chumbu lying at the foot of 
the steps that led to the inner apartment. He 
picked it up, and carried it to the cook-room to 
fill it from the large earthern chatty that willing 
little Sundari always tried to keep full. To his 
dismay that was empty too, and so he called and 
called again for the child to go to the water-hole 
that he might have some water for his teeth. 
His stomach might be craving for food, but his 
teeth must be cleaned. 

There was no answering voice from Sundari, 
who was usually so quick and responsive when 
he wanted her. He must have some water at 
any rate, and as it was quite out of the question 
for him to fetch it, his wife must get up and go ; 



The Voice of Conscience 1 1 1 

for one glance had sufficed to tell him she still 
lay in the same corner she had occupied for 
nearly a week. 

He crossed the mud floor, and stooped to 
speak to the sleeping woman, but drew back in 
terror as he saw her wide open eyes fixed in an 
upward look with a horrible glassy stare. Her 
hands were clenched, and her body drawn as 
though with great suffering. He did not touch 
her, for he was sure she would be cold and stiff. 

" The shaking devil has carried her off to his 
own regions," he said, " I must call the mid-wife." 

Yes, little Sundari s mother was dead. She 
had gone forth in the dark night to the long 
hopeless future that heathenism presents to its 
followers. 

She had gone forth alone, uncared for, un 
loved, like millions and millions of others who had 
preceded her. No ray of light had pierced the 
dark midnight of her soul. How could it when 
she dwelt in a land where the light was as dark 
ness, and when she knew nothing of the Light 
and Life of the World. No one had ever told 
her of a Saviour s love for lost mankind. No 
one had ever whispered of blessed immortality 
beyond the dark river of death that all must 
cross. The daughters of enlightened lands were 
content to dwell in light and love, and bask in 
the sunshine of God s favour. Thousands might 
have hastened to do the urgent business of their 
King, but to sit at ease in Zion was so pleasant 



1 1 2 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

and comfortable, and while they rested, time rolled 
by and death claimed the millions of heathen still 
unevangelized. The message that Hilda Roi had 
brought on the previous afternoon, had come 
too late to reach the woman who lay dying only 
a few yards from where the messengers of peace 
had stood to tell out the words of Eternal life. 



X 

THE UNKNOWN FUTURE 

LINGAPPA was too poor to entertain the 
thought of expensive funeral ceremonies. 
It was quite necessary that his wife s body 
should be put out of the way as soon as possible, 
but he had not enough money to buy the few 
sticks that would be required in building the 
funeral pyre. His indebtedness to the Ballapura 
money-lender made it quite impossible for him 
to raise a new loan. Added to this he was 
weary, hungry, and dispirited, and cared little or 
nothing what happened to himself or to what yet 
remained of the woman who had been his wife. 
Quickly the news spread from house to house 
that the carpenter s wife was dead. The village 
sweeper left his other duties to go the round of 
the village to collect the wood for building the 
pyre; for Lingappa had told him he could not 
pay for the fuel that would be required. The 
old man was not without some amount of sym 
pathy for the trouble that had come to his 
neighbour, but it was only human nature that 
his thoughts should keep circling round the value 
of his own perquisites upon the present occasion. 

113 



1 14 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

He wondered how much the cloth, used to roll 
the dead woman in, would realize, as that together 
with the stakes used in building the funeral pyre, 
was what he usually received in payment for his 
services. 

There was great consternation amongst the 
villagers when it was known that the unfortunate 
woman had died in the house, and Lingappa was 
duly blamed by the gossips for not getting her 
outside so that she might have breathed her last 
on pure mother earth. 

Through such a catastrophe, not only was the 
house in which she had died rendered unclean, 
but the neighbours houses and even themselves 
would also be polluted until the poor worn-out 
dead body was removed and burnt. So it came 
to pass that the poverty-stricken people of the 
village, through fear of pollution, and its attend 
ant consequences, gave freely of their small piles 
of wood to assist in the burning, and willing 
hands prepared the thin emaciated form of Sun- 
dari s mother for the last sad offices of the dead. 
The preparations went quickly forward, and in 
less than four hours all that remained of the 
heathen girl who had grown old before she was 
twenty, was a smouldering heap of ashes upon 
the burning ground outside Lingapura. 

To say that Lingappa mourned for the girl 
who had cooked his food, cleaned his house, and 
became the mother of his children would be im 
puting to him an almost unknown emotion ; but 



The Unknown Future 1 1 5 

he was precise to follow out all the necessary 
purificatory ceremonies connected with her death. 
During the days that he was debarred from en 
tering his house, or of having food cooked in it, 
his mind was full of his bright-eyed winsome 
little daughter of whom he could hear no news 
whatever. No one had seen her since the foreign 
lady had come to tell them of another Swami, 
and no one had heard anything concerning her. 
More astonishing still, than Sundari s disappear 
ance was the fact that Osman the Mussulman 
troubled him no more, and indeed he troubled no 
one in the village. 

This was a" matter for great surprise, for as a 
rule he was at least a weekly visitor to the place, 
and nearly three weeks had passed since the last 
flutter of his long tailed turban had been seen in 
the narrow street of Lingapura. 

August had dawned, and with its opening days 
Lingappa had made a great resolve. As soon as 
the time for the prescribed mourning was ended, 
he would part with his beloved buffaloes, gather 
his few possessions together, and go in search of 
his lost child. 

He had no fear about obtaining food in his 
wanderings. He could surely beg as much by 
the way as he managed to get in the village. 
Without wife or child, his home was desolate 
and his poverty again asserted itself when he 
thought of another marriage. Several of the 
village girls had been offered to him by anxious 



ll6 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

parents ; but he would have to wait many years 
before any of them were old enough to come to 
his house and perform a wife s duties for him. 
There had been too, a growing distaste within 
him for his work in and about the temples, 
and since the night when the mysterious voice 
sounded within him he had lost all zest in per 
forming the pooja that previously had brought 
him some measure of consolation, for he firmly 
believed his acts of devotion would extract some 
blessings from the gods, that he had yet to learn 
neither saw, nor heard, nor spoke. He had 
waited with eager expectations for another visit 
from the English Dhorasani, but she came not. 
The earth yeilded no increase : the ground baked 
harder and harder, while here and there the dry 
surface cracked, and yawning gaps were to be 
seen instead of bending stalks of cholum heavy 
with the ripening grain, or the vivid green of the 
paddy fields smiling in full assurance of a plenti 
ful harvest. 

Rumour penetrated even far away Lingapura 
that the English Government had commenced 
some work, and would employ any man, woman, 
or child who applied to them. In this way, it 
was said, many thousands were earning just 
enough money to buy their food day by day. 
Another item of news was that the English Dhorai 
who preached in the market-place of Ballapura 
was having a great well dug in his compound 
just on purpose to give employment to the 



The Unknown Future 117 

starving people who worshipped the God of the 
English. 

In the isolation of his uncleanness, Lingappa 
heard, thought, planned, and came to his great 
decision : but he could not venture forth in the 
darkness : he felt he must wait for the light half 
of the month, for with all his neighbours his be 
lief in the power of the devils that roamed about 
in the darkness, caused him indescribable pangs 
of fear and dread. He thought out the details 
of his journey without taking any one into his 
confidence, until at lasi he summoned up courage 
to consult the village priest as to an auspicious 
day or moment for commencing his great under 
taking; for unless he had the benediction of a 
smiling star, according to the fixed beliefs of the 
villagers, his journey would only be one long 
series of disasters. 

The village priest of Lingapura was not mor 
ally worse than the class whose representative he 
was: but he was certainly no better than the 
majority of them, and it was not to be expected 
that he would consult the gods and say mantrams 
on behalf of Lingappa without some sufficient 
remuneration. When the carpenter offered to 
give him, as payment for his services at his 
wife s funeral obsequies, and for his consultation 
with the gods on his own behalf, the two fine 
buffaloes which alas had grown thin and poor 
during the last three weeks, the priest s greedy 
eyes glittered with the avarice in which his soul 



1 18 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

was steeped, and he determined to make it as 
easy as possible for the deluded man to obtain 
his heart s desire. 

" Will my undertaking be successful ? " asked 
Lingappa, without mentioning at first that he was 
contemplating a journey. 

Without answering him directly, the priest re 
tired to his private oracle, leaving Lingappa in 
an agony of suspense until he reappeared hold 
ing in his hands two small parcels tightly rolled 
round in a green leaf and tied securely to pre 
vent their contents being seen. These he laid in 
front of the huge image representing the god 
Shiva, and he told Lingappa that if the god fa 
voured him, he would allow him to choose the 
packet containing the white flower, but if he dis 
approved of his plans he would know it when the 
red flower was disclosed to his view. 

With sincere devotion, Lingappa prostrated 
himself before the idol, and with nerveless, trem 
bling fingers selected one of the two bundles. He 
could hardly control himself to hand back the 
small parcel to the priest, who, secure in the 
knowledge that he had put a white blossom in 
each bundle, proceeded in a leisurely fashion to 
unfasten the binding, and reveal to Lingappa s 
strained gaze the innocent little white jessamine 
bloom that was to be the augury of the god s 
smile upon his journey. So far, so good. The 
knowledge that Shiva favoured his plans led 
Lingappa to unfold to the priest what those 



The Unknown Future 119 

plans were, and to beg him to find out the aus 
picious moment for his departure from Linga- 
pura. 

Now the priest was anxious to get those two 
buffaloes into his possession lest Lingappa should 
change his mind and offer him something else in 
payment, and so he made short work over the 
second part of the service he was to render the 
intending pilgrim. After duly consulting his so- 
called oracles, he declared that Lingappa might 
start out the next morning when the morning 
star shone dimly forth, and he heard the first 
faint sound of the holy shell that was blown 
morning by morning to awaken the gods from 
their slumber. 

Lingappa had little sleep that night ; for his 
mind was busy with thoughts of what the com 
ing days would reveal to him concerning his little 
daughter, and mingling with the thoughts of her 
was the remembrance of that never-to-be-forgot 
ten voice that had sounded so clearly within him 
on the night of his wife s death. 

He was on the alert when the midnight crow, 
and the " flap, flap " of the village cocks wings 
were heard, and when a few hours later the un 
musical note of the priest s sacred shell floated 
over the still sleeping village, he rose, picked up 
a small bundle containing his wife s paltry jewels, 
and only pausing to pat his precious buffaloes, 
and to give them a last friendly twist of their 
tails, he set forth in the cool dim hours of the 



12O Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

early morning to commence a journey that was 
to end in his finding something far more precious 
than his little Sundari. 

He had not mentioned his intended journey to 
a soul beside the priest, lest some one should 
have tried to persuade him to remain at home, 
or should offer to walk part of the way with him, 
as these would have been most unlucky omens. 

He had only gone a few steps when the faint 
" tweet, tweet " of an early lizard fell upon his 
nervous ear, and with a great swelling joy he 
recognized that it came from his right side, and 
felt assured with such a good omen at the very 
beginning of his journey, all would be well. 

He did not pause in his walk until the sun was 
well up in the heavens, and then he began to 
look round for a place of shelter from the pitiless 
rays that seemed to scorch his bare back so un 
mercifully. In the distance he saw the bare walls 
of a deserted chatram, and made a cross cut 
from the road, that led to it in a direct line, 
hoping to find some water to drink near the old 
rest-house, as well as a cover from the burning 
heat of the sun. 



XI 

WILLING HEARTS 

THE days of the hot weather that dragged 
out their weary length so mournfully for 
Lingappa brought in their train new 
cares for Hilda Roi v^ho for the time being had 
to leave her visits to the outlying villages in 
abeyance, while she devoted all her time to 
duties nearer home. Often she thought regret 
fully of her inability to return to Lingapura, and 
follow up the teaching of her first visit, but all 
she could do was to wait patiently for days of 
more leisure to come round. 

That glorious shower of rain that had so re 
freshed Ballapura, and the surrounding district 
towards the end of July had been the first and 
the last of the season. Instead of cooling show 
ers, Ballapura and her inhabitants were feeling all 
the intensity of a slow heat wave that lingered 
with a strange pertinacity. 

It seemed as though the bountiful downpour 
of that one night had come to mock the expect 
ant hearts of the few Englishmen and women 
living in Ballapura, and of the ryots in the out 
lying districts. 

Only the grain merchants grew fat and pros- 

121 



122 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

perous ; for the result of the drought told largely 
on the price of grain, which only the rich could 
afford to buy at the ruinous famine prices they 
were asking. 

Men like Abu Taleb had all they needed and 
clamoured more loudly than those who had to 
curtail their two meals a day to one : while the 
masses of the people thought themselves lucky 
if they managed to get one satisfying meal in 
two days. 

Gaunt-eyed famine stalked through the land, 
and the dread spectre of death kept her twin sis 
ter close company. No wonder Hilda Roi was 
passing through a time of anxiety. She had 
heard of famines before, but hearing of them was 
very different from experiencing them. She had 
between forty and fifty orphan and destitute girls 
to feed and clothe, and it soon became a problem 
how to get them the necessary food ; but she was 
determined that the children should have their 
regular meals whatever else they had to go with 
out. She felt that illness and death might prove 
harder to fight than famine, and so day by day in 
spite of diminishing resources the usual quantity 
of rice was measured out, and the children in the 
Mission Home did not know what famine meant 
to those less favoured than themselves, until there 
came a day when Mr. Burton returned home 
sooner than was expected from his trip into the 
country, and brought with him four children 
whom he had found in a roadside hut. They 



Willing Hearts 123 

were slowly starving to death by the side of their 
already dead mother and baby sister. Of course 
Hilda received them gladly and willingly, did all 
she could to win them back to life and childish 
happiness; but two of them died in less than 
twenty-four hours of their arrival in the " Home," 
and the other two were only brought back from 
the verge of the grave through the unremitting 
care of the school-matron, and the warm light 
nourishment that Hilda administered at short in 
tervals. The poor little things were ravenous at 
the sight of food, and would have died the first 
day from over-feeding if they had not been care 
fully watched. 

The sight of these starving little ones opened 
the eyes and the hearts of Hilda s orphan chil 
dren, and it was a glad surprise to her one even 
ing when a deputation of the elder girls came to 
the front veranda of the bungalow, and laying 
aside much of their native reticence propounded 
their plan for helping the people who were so 
much worse off than themselves. 

Krupai, the eldest, was chosen as spokes 
woman, and after much prompting and nudging 
from her schoolmates, and to the nervous ac 
companiment of twisting and untwisting one 
corner of her sari, she began, " Dear Missyamma, 
there is much sorrow in our hearts for all the 
poor people who suffer hunger in these times of 
famine. You always give us plenty to eat." 

" We did not know that others were dying be- 



124 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

cause they had no food," chimed in a second 
eager voice. 

" Gnanamma is better now, and she has told us 
all about it," said a third, and then a shy silence 
overcame the group of impulsive dark skinned 
children, and so Hilda came to the rescue saying, 

" I am sure that you will all thank God that 
He has cared for you, and given you food and 
clothes and shelter. It is of His great love that 
all these good things come to you. Pray to 
Him, too, to shew mercy upon these suffering 
thousands in India." 

" We will, we will," came in a chorus from all 
the girls who at the same time cast expressive 
encouraging glances in the direction of Krupai, 
who was indulging in the nervous pastime of 
cracking her finger joints. However, she soon 
found her voice, and began once again with what 
was evidently an interruption to a prepared 
speech. 

"We would like to do more than pray for 
them. Missyamma has often told us we must 
shew our faith by our works. We have nothing 
of our own. The Missyamma gives us every 
thing. Our food, our clothes, our books." 

" Yes," said Hilda kindly, for she wanted to 
know what was behind all this long speech. 

" We are strong and well. Missy gives us 
plenty to eat : we do not want so much every 
day. Please give us a little bit to eat." 

Hilda divined the plan at once, but she deter- 



Willing Hearts 125 

mined to draw the girls out, and so hear all that 
was in their minds. With this thought she 
smiled back into the faces of her beloved chil 
dren and said, " But how is that going to show 
your faith by your works ? " 

Impetuous little Ratua could wait no longer 
for the slow utterances of the deliberate Krupai ; 
but with expressive gestures and quick words she 
poured out the ideas that had been circulating in 
the minds of the school children ever since the 
advent of the four famine victims. 

" Oh dear, Missyamma, don t you see, if you 
give less rice to us, you will have some left over 
for the people who are so hungry. We all want 
to give a part of our own food to some one else 
every day while the famine lasts." 

Hilda s eyes moistened, even though her heart 
leapt with joy, as she realized the true unselfish 
ness of these children who were willing to deny 
themselves a portion of their own daily food so 
that others might be fed. So after a little more 
talk with them on the matter, she promised to 
give them the same daily allowance of uncooked 
grain, and from it they were to put on one side 
just as much as they wished to deny themselves 
of, and at the end of the week she would buy 
back from them at maiket rates the grain they 
had thus saved, and they were to have the money 
to give as their own special offering towards the 
" Famine Fund," that was being raised through 
out the country. 



1 26 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

Such a generous meeting of their suggestion 
was altogether beyond the expectations of the 
" Deputation," and it was with a great effort that 
they managed to leave the veranda with some 
show of decorum; but their farewell evening 
words which they always essayed in pretty 
broken English were not forgotten. 

" Good-night, dear Missyamma. Sweet re 
pose. God bless you," and they were gone. 

The minute their bare feet were off the ve 
randa, they broke into a run, and regardless of 
scorpions or snakes they made the distance 
across the dark compound seem very short. 
After their race, they arrived almost too breath 
less to communicate the result of their mission 
to the rest of the children who were eagerly 
awaiting their return at the entrance of the 
orphanage. 

The dark eyes flashed and gleamed with pleas 
ure as they talked over how each girl was to go 
up to the basket of grain the next morning, and 
take "out in her hand just as much as she wished 
to give as her share to the collection, and then all 
that was left was to be cooked and divided out 
equally when the meal-time came round. So 
they talked on and planned, and built wonderful 
castles in the air concerning all that their pre 
cious measures of grain would do towards help 
ing their poorer neighbours. 

At last their tongues ceased over even such an 
important topic. The younger children grew 



Willing Hearts 127 

sleepy, and only a few of the elder girls kept 
awake, quietly waiting for perfect silence to reign 
in the one large room where the mats were spread 
for the night. So crowded were the children 
lying upon them, that there was scarcely room to 
walk across the floor without stepping upon some 
of the recumbent bodies. A kerosene lamp hung 
from the centre of the ceiling, and shed a dim 
light, that was only just enough to show that 
here and there amongst the apparently sleeping 
girls, were kneeling forms, prostrate in prayer 
before the True and Living God. This was the 
one opportunity of the day, or rather of the 
night, that the girls who prized a quiet time with 
their Heavenly Father, could secure without fear 
of interruption from their companions. Not 
willful interruption ; but their surroundings were 
not such as were conducive to privacy for quiet 
meditation, reading or prayer. This " Home " 
that had been such a haven of refuge for many 
years, for the long train of orphan and destitute 
girls that had such strong claims upon the love 
and sympathy of the lady missionaries in Balla- 
pura, was scarcely deserving of such a sweet ap 
pellation, and yet it was all that it was possible 
to provide with the limited means the ladies had 
at their disposal. 

One long, low, whitewashed room, with four 
tiny openings on each side to let in the air, a 
thatched roof, and a mud floor plentifully be 
smeared with cow dung, did duty for a dining- 



128 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

room, a study, and a sleeping apartment. The 
room was old, and, despite the watchful care of 
those in charge of the premises, sheltered various 
kinds of vermin, in addition to the thirty or forty 
children who luxuriated beneath its friendly roof. 
In the Monsoon season, the rain found out all the 
weak spots, and in the hot weather the weak 
spots became weaker, while the cracks widened 
into gaps which proved more than was desirable, 
even in the matter of ventilation. The place had 
been repaired, and added to from time to time 
during the thirty years it had been in existence, 
but it was altogether such a hopeless apology for 
the comfortable houses that Western philanthropy 
provided for the orphan and destitute of their 
own lands, that Hilda longed to set a match to 
the whole pile and lay it level with the ground. 
But she had to restrain her ardent desires in 
this direction, for it certainly was a shelter, and 
until some one came to her aid with an open 
purse that should enable her to erect a building 
that should be more than a mere shelter, she felt 
for the sake of the children she must make the 
best of their present accommodation. She often 
planned for spacious rooms where the girls could 
sleep in coolness and comfort ; for a dining-room, 
and two nice large bathrooms, so that they need 
not take their food and baths in the public way 
they were obliged to, for a flat stone under a tree 
did duty for a bath for the little ones, and a small 
walled-in enclosure served the elder girls in the 



Willing Hearts 129 

same direction. The dining-room they preferred 
to the one that was available, was large enough 
to suit all, for the dome of heaven was its roof, 
and the broad earth its floor. But above all these 
rooms for physical comfort, Hilda planned one 
that should be a quiet retreat, available at all 
hours for those amongst the girls who sought a 
closer walk with God. A room for prayer, and 
the study of God s Holy Word, a room where 
they could be free from the intrusion of the 
younger children, and where at appointed times 
kindred souls amongst them could meet together 
to seek the Divine blessing upon themselves and 
their work. 

It was almost by accident that Hilda discov 
ered how some of the girls were in the habit of 
keeping awake at night until many of their num 
ber were asleep, that they might rise and talk 
with God as friend with friend : and it was then 
she resolved that with God s blessing the day 
should come when her orphan girls should have 
a room of their own which should become fra 
grant with the incense of their prayers. 



XII 

THE MUSSULMAN AGAIN 

OSMAN, the Mussulman, would trouble 
the inhabitants of Lingapura no more. 
When he hurried away so stealthily on 
that memorable night in July, seeking every 
friendly shadow that the moonlight cast, in his 
dread lest he should be discovered with the limp 
form of Sundari in his arms, he had no idea that 
his mean, sordid career was almost ended, or that 
Azrail, the angel of death, was even then follow 
ing closely in his footsteps. He deigned no ex 
planation to his wife concerning the unexpected 
arrival of the little Hindu girl in his home, but 
early in the morning he ordered her to dress the 
child in Mohammedan costume, and escort her to 
the abode of Abu Taleb. He merely added that 
he would himself precede her by a few minutes 
to prepare the sowcar for the latest addition to his 
harem. 

Osman lived in a thickly populated quarter of 
Ballapura, where the poorer classes of Moham 
medans congregated ; his home and his surround 
ings were those of a really poor man, and his 
wife knew none of the luxuries of the veiled 
ladies of her faith. She was accustomed to go in 
130 



The Mussulman Again 

and out on the business of the household, and to 
frequent the bazaars for the sake of purchasing 
the daily food, and thus she came into contact 
with all sorts and conditions of people who 
haunted the crowded streets of Ballapura. 

She knew Ruth and Mary, the two Bible- 
women, who went from house to house reading 
the Christian Scriptures, and she had often passed 
and repassed a certain corner where Mr. Burton 
was in the habit of preaching to interested 
crowds. She would have liked to have lingered 
amongst the coolie women on the outskirts of 
the listeners, but Mohammedan etiquette decreed 
that she should go straight on with her face well 
covered, and not seek to speak to any one by 
the way. 

When Sundari awoke from her long, unnatural 
sleep, she cast wondering and startled eyes around 
the rough outhouse into which Osman had car 
ried her just before daybreak. 

Her head ached, and she felt no inclination to 
move from where she lay, but the conviction 
gradually stole into her mind that she was not in 
the familiar house at Lingapura. When she had 
fully decided this point, she made a movement to 
rise, and find out if possible where she could be, 
but with the first sound produced by the jingling 
of her little glass bangles, Osman s wife appeared. 

The Hindu child and the Mohammedan 
woman gazed at each other in speechless silence 
for about half a minute, and in that long gaze 



132 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

Sundari took in every detail of the strange face 
and attire of this new specimen of womanhood ; 
and the woman in her turn realized in that half- 
minute s scrutiny, the destiny of the lovely child 
standing with the mute, pleading look in her 
starlike eyes which even Osman s noxious drug 
had not robbed of their brilliancy. 

Fatimah was old with anxiety ; she was ugly 
from the cruel fingers of smallpox; she was 
Osman s wife, and she was a devoted follower of 
Mahomet, the prophet of God, but in addition, 
and beyond everything else she was a woman, 
and in that instant s gaze into Sundari s face her 
determination was registered as a vow before her 
God, to save the child from the power of Abu 
Taleb, her husband s employer. 

Her own beloved daughter of tender years had 
been sacrificed in like fashion to the avarice of 
her husband, and to the expansive capacity of 
the rich man s harem. Perhaps her own lack of 
the beauty which the early years of her married 
life had robbed her of, had barely saved her 
from a similar fate ; for she knew only too well 
that in spite of his pious ejaculations, his oft- 
repeated prayers, and the Koran carried so con 
spicuously wherever he went, her husband was 
unscrupulous in his dealings, and that he stopped 
short at no action that would bring the rupees 
into his possession. She judged Abu must have 
paid him a good round price for the lovely 
Hindu girl whom she resolved at all costs to de- 



The Mussulman Again 133 

liver from the clutches of the tiger as she mentally 
named the money-lender. 

Her mother s heart within her beat wildly at 
thought of her own c aring, and she could not 
find her tongue to utter the words and thoughts 
that were rushing through her brain; but the 
undying love for her lost child changed her face 
in a second of time until the ugliness vanished, 
and the brown, deeply-pitted skin seemed trans 
formed ; her small, mean eyes appeared to grow 
larger and become luminous with the reflection 
of her soul s yearning, and so Sundari, quick to 
note the transformation, no longer shrank back 
in fear, but in sweet liquid tones, as though sure 
of help and sympathy, simply said, " I want my 
mother. Where is my father ?" 

" My star, my pearl, my jewel, I know not. I 
will watch over you. No harm shall come to 
you. You shall have coffee and bread, and then 
we will talk about your father and mother." As 
old Fatimah thus sought to reassure the child, 
she led her into another room, a trifle less dirty 
and sordid than the tumble-down shed at the 
back, placed her on a cushion in the corner, and 
disappeared into her cook-room from which the 
smell of fragrant coffee greeted Sundari. 

But it was a new and unpleasant smell to her 
and made her feel faint and sick. 

The village child throve and was healthy in 
the odours emitted by the buffaloes, rats, dogs 
and fowls that shared her own home, but this 



134 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

new smell of coffee was altogether disagreeable, 
and she was planning how to escape from it 
when Fatimah returned with a brass cup from 
which steam and the same strong unpleasant 
smell issued. 

It took all the old woman s powers of per 
suasion to coax the little maiden to try and drink 
the strong coffee, for she had never tasted any 
thing but water as long as she could remember. 

To inspire the child with confidence Fatimah 
drank some herself, and praised its delicate 
flavour, dilated on the beautiful jaggory with 
which it was sweetened, and compared it to 
some wondrous celestial drink that only the 
faithful that reached Paradise would drink of, and 
at last Sundari yielded to her childish curiosity 
and swallowed some of the thick, black, ill- 
smelling stuff, which to the horror and deep dis 
tress of Osman s wife had the effect of making 
her small guest violently sick, and of revealing 
a new secret concerning her to Fatimah who 
then knew of a certainty how the long, heavy 
sleep had been produced. 

The sickness over, Sundari felt better, and ate 
some of the coarse cholum bread moistened in a 
little water, and then she lay down and gave way 
to the sleep that again seemed to overpower her. 

Meanwhile Fatimah moved about with un 
wonted gentleness, so as not to disturb the sleep 
ing child. 

She gathered together various bundles from 



The Mussulman Again 

odd corners, and from first one and then another 
she laid out quaint little garments that had been 
stored up for as manv years as had passed over 
Sundari s head. 

There was a red petticoat lined around the 
bottom with green that at one time had been of 
a vivid hue but was now faded with the years 
that had fled ; there was a thin orange-coloured 
garment, not unlike a Western chemise, orna 
mented and gay with silver tinsel braid ; a bright- 
red silk, short-sleeved jacket opening in a V shape 
down the front, and last of all, a lovely lemon- 
coloured sari trimmed with shimmering gold 
tinsel that gleamed with a reddish glow as the 
rays of the morning sun found their way into the 
dusky abode. 

Fatimah sighed ever and anon as she thought 
of her darling who had last worn these festive 
robes on the day when the Mohammedan grain- 
merchant, the sanctimonious old Abdallah, had 
first set his greedy eyes upon her, and had been 
so impressed with the vision of her sweet quaint- 
ness that he had there and then offered to pay 
her father a good price for her, and Fatimah had 
not been consulted in the matter any more than 
she would have been over the most trivial inci 
dent in her husband s daily business transactions. 
The innocent baby, for so Fatimah always called 
her, had been hurried away, and in less than two 
years had died, a victim to the life she led in the 
rich man s harem, 



136 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

If Osman could dispose of his own child so 
easily it was small wonder that he had no pity in 
his heart for the fate to which he was so care 
lessly dooming the happily unconscious Hindu 
girl. 

While Fatimah was rejoicing in her simple 
plans for decking out Sundari in her lost child s 
holiday attire, and dwelling on the manner in 
which she would enhance the little stranger s 
loveliness by the use of artificial beautifiers so 
well known to Mohammedan women, whether of 
high or low degree, Osman was wending his way 
through the already crowded streets to the house 
of his master, the money-lender, and scheming as 
he went on the possibility of obtaining from Abu 
something beyond the promised discharge of 
Lingappa s debts. 

He meant to dwell at length on the child s ex 
traordinary beauty, and also to hint on all he had 
risked to obtain her ; on his self-sacrifice in pass 
ing her over to his master, and also to recall his 
many past services in a similar direction, but his 
own deep laid schemes and plans were put to 
flight in a very summary fashion by finding the 
sowcar in a state of great excitement over a tele 
gram that had reached him an hour earlier. 

Abu Taleb and Abdallah, the grain merchant, 
were in earnest conversatio n#irf.<#m inner room, 
while one of the head clerks sat at the receipt of 
custom, not transacting his master s business,. butr 
keeping the various clients, who thronged the 



The Mussulman Again 137 

office, even at such an early hour, awaiting with 
promises of the sowcar s speedy attention to their 
needs of the day. 

Osman turned sullen at being kept so long 
from communicating the important news of 
which he felt himself to be the bearer, but he sat 
down amongst the rest of the loiterers, and soon 
his life s training asserted itself and he began to 
turn his spare time to account in trying to find 
out any secrets that might possibly be hidden 
under the dusky exteriors of Abu s debtors. 

He had waited more than an hour, when the 
stately old Abdallah, whose long beard seemed 
to rival his garments in their snowy purity, 
emerged from that inner apartment where he had 
been so long closeted with Abu. 

His appearance was the signal for every one to 
rise and salute him with profound salaams, which 
were repeated again and again, with all due def 
erence to the sowcar who followed, and parted 
from him with all the exaggeration attached to 
Eastern farewells. 

It was a wonder to see Abu s usually serene 
face puckered with anxious care. For once his 
business politeness forsook him, for he did not 
attempt to return the greetings of the men in his 
bazaar. 

But Osman had no intention of being over 
looked, and so with all the cunning of which he 
was master, he bowed insinuatingly before the 
great man, until in his profoundest genuflexion 



138 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

he almost appeared to kiss the beringed toes of 
his master. Most certainly his turban touched 
the embroidery at the edge of sowcar s trousers, 
so closely did he obtrude himself. He gained 
his point, and that was all he cared for at that 
moment. Abu deigned to look down, and as he 
recognized his servant, the settled gloom on his 
face changed somewhat, as he informed Osman 
he wished to speak with him. 

Osman rose and followed him to the sanctity 
of the inner office, with a strange flutter in the 
vicinity of his hardened old heart, and stood in a 
most becoming attitude of humility, awaiting for 
his superior to speak. 

" Oh, Osman, my servant, you have served me 
well on many occasions. You have been faithful 
to my interests and you shall not go short of 
your reward," began Abu in an affectionate tone 
of voice, so different from the imperious tone he 
usually adopted, that Osman s skinny fingers be 
gan to interlace each other in a way indicative of 
a nervous ailment. 

" Osman, thy servant. O Sahib," faltered the 
man, thinking he was expected to speak. 

" Urgent business calls me to Bombay by to 
night s mail. Business that no one but myself 
can attend to, but I require to accompany me 
some one who can find out several details nec 
essary to the successful issue of my undertaking, 
and you are the one to whom I will trust the 
working out of my plans." 



The Mussulman Again 139 

Abu paused, and looked steadily at the man s 
cringing face, as though to give him time to 
reply. 

" In the name of God, the All Merciful, I am 
thy servant," murmured the Mussulman softly, 
but unmistakably, as his hand closed over a 
golden coin that the sowcar pushed towards 
him. 

The money-lender rose from his cushions, and 
with his own hands, closed the door more care 
fully, and then invited Osman to be seated, while 
in a low, intense voice he revealed to him a few 
details concerning the proposed trip to Bombay. 

Osman was quick of apprehension where cun 
ning was needed, and he soon satisfied his master 
that he thoroughly understood all that was ex 
pected of him. 

Not for one moment had he forgotten Sundari, 
and the reward he hoped to extract from Abu for 
his zeal in kidnapping her, but he made as 
though to retire, and the money-lender gave him 
a few parting instructions, telling him to be 
punctual to time at the Ballapura railway station, 
as the train left a few minutes before four o clock 
in the afternoon. 

Then it appeared as though a sudden thought 
struck him, for he turned, and with a servile 
salaam said, " Oh, Sahib, I have carried out your 
orders, and the beautiful Hindu girl is now in 
Ballapura, awaiting your noble commands con 
cerning her." 



140 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

" The beautiful Hindu girl ; what girl ? " asked 
Abu with well assumed indifference. 

" The starry-eyed, angelic little one, radiant as 
an archangel in form and beauty," replied Osman 
with a curse in his heart, even while he called up 
all the powers of descriptive eloquence that he 
was capable of. 

" Oh, yes, I remember ; the new slave girl for 
the women s apartments. She shall wait on my 
favourite wife until I return from Bombay. Bring 
her to the harem before you commence your 
journey," and he waved Osman out of his pres 
ence with the gesture that the man knew quite 
well it was hopeless to dispute. 



XIII 

AZRAIL, THE ANGEL OF DEATH 

AS Osman walked home after salaaming 
himself out of Abu s presence with the 
air of a man wholly devoted to his mas 
ter s interests, he was as nearly in a rage as he 
ever permitted himself to be. He was clever in 
many respects, and therefore a very useful tool 
in the hands of his far cleverer master, who read 
his servant s character and ambitious scheming as 
easily as he read his Koran in the Arabic tongue. 
Abu knew very well that a large reward was ex 
pected from him when the little Hindu girl passed 
into his possession, and so he purposely refrained 
from giving his servant any opportunity of discuss 
ing the abduction with him. Osman fully realized, 
too, the game his master was playing, and in his 
anger at being foiled of his coveted reward, he 
cursed the fate that had led him to interfere in 
Lingappa s affairs. 

The wretched superstitious idol-worshipper, 
Lingappa, had secured a certain amount of res 
pite from paying his lawful debts ; his rich mas 
ter had the gratification of pandering to his own 
weakness for a multiplicity of wives, but he was 
still the poorly-paid agent who at infinite trouble 
141 



142 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

to himself was the instrument fate used to favour 
others. As he mentally reviewed his case, and 
looked at it from his own standpoint, his temper 
did not improve. So disturbed was he, that he 
had no leisure for plans with regard to his im 
pending journey. When he arrived at home, to 
his further disgust his wife had gone to the 
bazaar, and as he could not afford to take ad 
vantage of the prophet s ample provision of four 
wives, he had no one but Fatimah to be both 
loving wife, and obedient slave combined. 

The badge of servility suited Osman admira 
bly in the presence of such men as Abu and 
Abdallah, but he was a veritable autocrat in his 
own home, and in dealing with his master s 
debtors. 

He thought he would try and sleep while his 
wife was still away, for he had given his previous 
night s rest to serving Abu s interests, he assured 
himself as though he had hoped for nothing in 
return, and now two nights journey by rail to 
Bombay loomed ahead of him, and a dangerous 
enterprise to follow when he would need his 
keenest powers to be on the alert. 

So he lay down, and sought to sleep, but 
sought in vain, for his ruffled feelings would not 
be smoothed sufficiently to allow him to yield to 
the demands of nature, and when Fatimah re 
turned an hour later, he was wide awake and 
ready to vent upon her what he dare not betray 
in the presence of Abu Taleb. 



Azrail, the Angel of Death 143 

Fatimah bore his ill-temper meekly as became 
a Mohammedan woman, and moved about more 
energetically than was her wont to prepare the 
savory pillaw he demanded for his meal before he 
set out on his journey. He told her he expected 
to be away on business for quite a week, but 
never mentioned whither he was bound, and she 
did not ask, for, what right had a slave to inquire 
into her master s concerns ? Apart, too, from 
Osman and his business, all her thoughts were 
with little Sundari whom she contrived to keep 
out of his sight. 

At last, the time for his departure to the sta 
tion arrived. He had made no unnecessary 
preparations for the journey. A change of 
clothes, including a finely embroidered shirt of 
Abu s hired for the occasion, his prayer carpet, 
and the Koran tied in one bundle, and a little 
cold rice put up into another was all he needed. 
All was confusion at the branch station of 
Ballapura. Hundreds of natives swarmed the 
third-class carriages of the train that connected 
with the Bombay mail some forty miles down 
the line. 

Abu, in his rich attire, his European portman 
teau, and his servants hurrying to and fro were 
objects of attention to the less favoured trav 
ellers. A good meal, and his self-complacent 
nature had helped him to recover his usual 
equanimity. He had settled himself comfortably 
in a first-class compartment without so much as 



144 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

noticing outwardly the arrival of Osman, but his 
keen eye had signalled him out as soon as he had 
arrived on the platform, and he felt all the more 
satisfied when he saw the Eurasian guard lock 
the door of the third-class carriage within which 
he had disappeared. 

The sunny-faced Bible colporteur, of the Lon 
don Missionary Society, was making the most of 
his opportunity amongst the travellers of all 
tongues and creeds. He succeeded in disposing 
of some dozens of portions of scripture before 
he approached the wealthy Abu to whom he 
had offered a New Testament in Hindustanee. 
Knowing Abu well as a fanatic concerning his 
creed, he was not at all surprised at the insolent 
manner in which he was repulsed, but it made no 
difference to him in his endeavour to bring 
within the reach of all, the words of Eternal life. 

He was more successful with a Parsee gentle 
man who, out of curiosity, as he afterwards ex 
plained to his travelling companions, purchased 
a copy of the gospel of John in the English lan 
guage. 

Telugu, Kanarese, Marathi, Hindustanee and 
Tamil portions of God s Holy Word were offered 
for sale in every one of the third-class compart 
ments, up till the very minute when the guard s 
whistle sounded and the train began to move. 
Even then Yohanappa, the colporteur, ran to 
place in a brown outstretched hand his last little 
gospel of Mark in Hindustanee. 



Azrail, the Angel of Death 145 

When the Ballapura train arrived at the junc 
tion, all was bustle once more, and even the slow 
movements of the natives shewed signs of hurry 
as each for himself sought the most comfortable 
place he could find in the mail train. Osman 
was disgusted to find himself pushed into an al 
ready overcrowded carriage with no chance of a 
quiet sleep by the way, and now that his irritated 
temper had spent itself he began to feel very 
weary. To his relief some of the passengers 
alighted at every station, but others continued to 
take the vacated places until well on to early 
morning when the rush of passengers slightly de 
creased, and he found room in which to stretch 
his cramped limbs. 

As soon as he was in a more comfortable atti 
tude he fell soundly asleep, and did not wake un 
til after the sun was up, and his usual prayer 
hour had passed by. 

For once he had omitted a duty that he was 
most punctilious in performing, and so in spite 
of his surroundings, and the fact that the early 
prayer hour had passed, from long, long years of 
habit he began to repeat. " God is great ; God is 
powerful; God is all powerful," as his fingers 
sought the accustomed beads on which to see 
that he made no mistake, he told off the number 
of times he said over the required formula. 

Although Abu had travelled in the luxury be 
fitting his status in Mohammedan society, he 
was as well pleased as his servant Osman when 



146 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

the journey came to an end, and he found a well 
appointed brougham drawn up at the Bombay 
railway station, waiting to convey him in all due 
style to the house of his uncle, who also practiced 
the art of money-lending. 

According to their prearranged plans, Osman 
sought the Mohammedan quarter of his own 
class where he was to lodge for two or three 
days while he went secretly to work to find 
out certain items concerning the financial posi 
tion of a jeweller of repute who was largely 
in debt to Abu Taleb, and his partner, the grain 
merchant Abdallah. 

There was no doubt that Osman was thor 
oughly tired, and he resolved to have a long 
refreshing sleep before setting to work on the 
following day. To his surprise, he began to pass 
through streets that seemed entirely deserted. 
In some he noticed houses with the roofs taken 
off, and in others it looked as though house after 
house had been pulled down or partly de 
molished, while on nearly every door there was 
a huge cross painted either in white or red, and 
beneath the cross there were some mysterious 
English letters that he did not understand. 
Finally after much searching, and frequently en 
quiring his way from the few passers-by he met, 
he arrived at the house to which he had been di 
rected, and noted that it too had got the mys 
terious markings upon it, and appeared to be 
quite deserted. 






Azrail, the Angel of Death 147 

He called aloud ; he shook the door, and then 
he called again in his most authoritative voice, 
but no one answered from within. By and by 
his repeated cries brought a man and a pariah 
dog from an opposite house. 

He salaamed to the man, and asked with a little 
exaggerated politeness if Omar Sahib lived in the 
street. The man whom he interrogated shook 
his head wearily as he replied, 

" Omar Sahib died of plague last night, and all 
his family have fled to escape being taken to the 
plague camp." 

" Plague ! " ejaculated Osman, startled into 
sudden fear. 

" Yes, every house in this street has been 
visited, and all who have not died, have run 
away unless they have been forced into the 
camp by the English officials." 

Ballapura had been quite free from the 
dreaded scourge, and as Osman was not a 
devotee of the daily papers, he was almost 
totally ignorant of the ravages made by the 
dread disease in the great and populous city 
of Bombay. 

But now his eyes were opened, and opened 
wide with terror that seemed to rob him of his 
usual acuteness. He stood simply staring at his 
informant unable to utter a sound with the 
parched tongue that fear caused to cleave to the 
roof of his mouth ; but the rumble of wheels 
in the distance made him turn mechanically 



148 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

in the direction from which the sound pro 
ceeded, and as he did so, the man to whom 
he had appealed exclaimed, 

" Here they come to search the houses for the 
dead and dying," and he hastily retired within 
his own doorway, lest he too, should be sum 
marily hurried away in company with the loath 
some bodies already packed in the cart for 
the dead. Poor Osman stood, a solitary figure 
in that deserted street, and watched for five 
minutes with a fascination born of his over 
whelming terror, the searchers enter three 
houses, and carry out a corpse from each. One 
he saw very distinctly, brought from the very 
house of Omar, with whom he was to have 
lodged during his stay in Bombay. 

It was the form and figure of a young girl, but 
her nose and ears had been ruthlessly chopped 
off in order to defy identification, and her long, 
black hair was stained with blood, shewing that 
the barbarous deed must have been committed 
immediately her last breath was drawn. It was 
a sickening sight, and one that roused the 
affrighted Mussulman from his torpor, for he 
turned and literally fled along the very way the 
cart for the dead had come. 

The long end of his turban flapped and 
fluttered in the slight breeze; he dropped his 
Koran and the bundle containing his change 
of raiment, but on he went, heedless, breathless, 
panting with his great exertion, with but one de- 



Azrail, the Angel of Death 149 

sire, only to get away from the silent, deathlike 
quarter, and the gruesome sights he had wit 
nessed outside Omar s house. 

The sudden darkness of the tropical night 
descended even while he ran, and such unac 
customed exercise instead of the usual stately 
walk and demeanour he affected, told on the 
fugitive, who was fain to stop from utter ex 
haustion. The feet that ought to have been 
light as feathery wings in aiding his flight 
seemed weighted with lead, and almost before he 
was aware of it, for the second time that week, 
fate in which he believed so firmly, was on his 
track. His foot caught in a nameless something, 
and he fell heavily forward over a warm, breath 
ing body. Happily unconsciousness flung her 
kindly arms around him, and he knew not that 
he had fallen across a still living plague stricken 
man who had been flung out of a neighbouring 
house by his terrified relatives, who dreaded to 
have a dying man found on their premises lest they 
should be compelled to give up all their household 
goods to the hands of the public disinfector, and in 
addition to this, run the risk of having the home 
of their fathers destroyed, and themselves hurried 
forth to live in tents in the open country, or 
worse still, to be kept in a " Segregation Camp " 
for ten days, and then turned out to find home 
and possessions had disappeared, friends and 
relatives dead, and themselves destitute wan 
derers, perhaps to be stricken in their turn by 



150 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

plague, as they stole like resurrected ghosts 
through the streets and bazaars where they had 
once lived in smiling prosperity. 

It was past midnight when Osman came 
to himself, for the moon had risen, and by her 
brilliant light he was able to see the ghastliness 
of his position as he lay across the now dead 
body of a stranger. 

With difficulty he aroused himself for one 
more attempt to escape from a place of such 
horror. Where to go, he knew not, and almost 
mechanically his footsteps led him towards the 
station at which he had arrived earlier in the af 
ternoon. 

But it seemed a weary tramp, and long before 
half the distance had been covered, he again sank 
upon the ground overcome with fear, weariness, 
and want of food, for he had not partaken of a 
good meal since he had eaten so heartily of his 
favourite pillaw that his wife had set before him 
an hour or so before he had commenced his dis 
astrous journey. 

The morning broke just a little chilly, and 
when the sun rose Osman was still lying where 
he had fallen the second time in his exhaustion ; 
but with the warm rays of the sun kissing his 
upturned face, new power seemed to become his 
and he crawled into a sitting posture, all un 
mindful of his morning prayers. 

He sat for a time, and then slowly staggered 
to his feet with a confused idea of finding a place 



Azrail, the Angel of Death 151 

where he could obtain some coffee : he struggled 
along for a few spaces, but his head ached with a 
painful throbbing, and the blood coursed through 
his veins like some fiery liquid : he rubbed his 
hands together but they were burning in a most 
unaccountable manner. Another few steps, and 
he reeled like a man who has drunk too freely of 
arrack, and for the third time he fell heavily on 
the ground, but this time there was no tangible 
object lying in the way to trip unwary feet. 

" Yes, bring him in. There are several beds 
vacant this morning ; five or six of our patients 
died during the night," were the words that 
floated through the dim distance, till they pierced 
poor Osman s deadened brain. Native doctors 
and gentle women nurses ministered with sym 
pathy and love to the new case that had been 
picked up in the street, and brought for admit 
tance to the plague hospital ; but there were 
hundreds of other sufferers claiming their atten 
tion, and so they could not spend any undue 
amount of time with the strange Mohammedan 
man who lay hour after hour in the grip of the 
fell disease that had laid its burning hand upon 
him. From time to time the nurses administered 
such nourishment and medicine as they could, 
and towards midnight one of the doctors lanced 
the huge swelling that appeared under the arm, but 
poor, mean, cringing, avaricious Osman drooped 
beneath the scourge, and within forty-eight hours 
of the time he had set foot in Bombay, his dead 



152 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

body was being hurriedly buried in company 
with scores of other nameless dead. 

No pompous funeral rites were his. No mark 
would ever cover his unknown resting-place, and 
no relatives would resort from time to time to 
his grave in the hope that his spirit hovering 
in seraphic tranquillity around his tomb, would 
be gratified at the sight of their devotion to his 
memory. 



XIV 

ABU S FAVOURITE WIFE 

IF Osman s wife Fatimah had ever been in 
the habit of thinking for herself, or deciding 
her own plan of action, she would have taken 
advantage of her husband s absence for a week, 
by keeping little Sundari in her own home for 
some days at least ; but even the great yearn 
ing mother-love that had sprung up in her heart 
for the beautiful child so unexpectedly thrust 
upon her would not allow her to defy her mas 
ter s orders. She had lived a life of repression, 
amounting to servility, for too many years for 
her to begin to consult her own feelings or de 
sires, and so she had no thought beyond that of 
implicit obedience. 

Osman had said, " Dress her in Mohammedan 
costume, and take her to Abu Taleb s house," 
and that was the task she set herself to fulfill as 
soon as the echo of his slippered feet died away 
in the distance. Sundari had fallen into a re 
freshing sleep after her meal of bread and water, 
and felt more like her lively little self as she 
watched with awakened interest old Fatimah s 
preparations on her own account, while her ever 
ready tongue found its natural use in talking and 

S3 



154 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

asking questions, but it was hard to talk to one 
whose language she could not altogether follow. 
She was as familiar with Telugu as she was with 
Kanarese, but Fatimah s Hindustani and Tamil 
presented her with many a puzzle. However 
she managed to understand that she was to be 
taken to another place that was not her beloved 
Lingapura, and when Fatimah assured her that 
she was to live always with a beautiful pale faced 
Dhorasani her heart bounded with joy ; for im 
mediately she thought of the white lady who had 
played the weird music, and who sang about a 
new Swami who loved people instead of hating 
them as all the gods in Lingapura did ; and she 
hoped it was to her house she was to be taken. 
With this hope in her heart, she submitted pa 
tiently, and with some degree of real pleasure 
to being bathed in hot water, and then douched 
in cold. The gentle rubbing of her whole body 
with fragrant saffron, as Fatimah sought to polish 
up her smooth brown skin, sent such a pleasant 
glow through her that she began to forget her 
sorrow at being so far from home and friends. 

Fatimah worked with a will strengthened by 
love ; for the practice of all her little arts and de 
vices brought to her mind the days of old, when 
the prattle of her own lost darling made the dull 
dirty house as a corner of Paradise for her. 

The old woman clapped her hands with glee to 
see how the effect of the child s bright eyes was 
enhanced by the darkening of the eyelids, but 



Abu s Favourite Wife 155 

her short curly hair caused her an infinite amount 
of trouble. All the greasy oil that she lavished 
so abundantly upon it would not reduce it to the 
shining straightness which is the pride of the 
Moslem woman s heart. 

If Sundari could have viewed herself arrayed 
in festive Mohammedan robes, she would have 
said some demon had in a sportive mood, changed 
her into one of the gay heroines of her own 
stories of the Hindu gods and goddesses; but 
Fatimah possessed no looking-glass that would 
enlighten the child as to the transformation that 
had taken place in her appearance, and so she 
was content to believe the old lady s oft-repeated 
information, that she was divinely lovely as the 
attendant black-eyed Houris of the heavenly 
garden where all true believers would enjoy to 
the fullest extent the highest bliss that even they 
were capable of imagining. 

It was a new experience for the village maiden 
of Lingapura, to be dressed, perfumed, and flat 
tered so lavishly and she liked it so much, that 
soon the last sigh of regret for the life of only 
yesterday, had ceased to be drawn. When a 
large white sheet had been thrown all over her 
red petticoat and lemon coloured sari, and 
wound around her in such an ingenious fashion 
that only her dark bright eyes could be seen, 
she was fully prepared to take the hand of 
Fatimah, and trot along by her side in deepest 
content with regard to her unknown future. 



156 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

It was a good thing for the little Hindu maid, 
that her eyes remained uncovered, for all that 
her natural shrewdness saw, and stored up for 
future use, made her forget the fatigue of walking 
in such unaccustomed finery. The child of na 
ture, clad in a ragged sari found locomotion a 
different matter when carrying the burden of 
petticoats, jackets, and sari with the big winding 
sheet added as an extra precaution. 

Several times she tried to slip the heavy cov 
ering off her head, but Fatimah quickly antici 
pated her intention and with many Eastern 
gesticulations, together with words of endear 
ment that Sundari could not appreciate, she 
insisted on the heavy covering being worn until 
she reached her destination. 

Fatimah was always a welcome visitor to the 
secluded women of Abu s household. She stood 
between them and the outside world of which 
not one had ever caught more than a passing 
glimpse, for they were women of high degree 
who could not be allowed to step beyond the 
precincts of their own home. Their lifelong se 
clusion made them entirely ignorant of all they 
were deprived of. Why should they long for 
that which they had never seen ? Sometimes 
they rather pitied Fatimah her freedom. It was 
quite true, the old woman always went about 
closely veiled, but then, the very fact of her 
walking alone through the open bazaars pro 
claimed her of low estate. Better be a high- 



Abu s Favourite Wife 157 

born prisoner according to Mohammedan idea, 
than a free woman of lowly degree. Neverthe 
less it was a little break in life s monotony when 
Fatimah arrived, carrying her tales of the world 
that throbbed, and pulsated with such abundant 
life outside their harem. 

But to-day was the first occasion on which 
she had come burdened with the important task 
of introducing a beautiful new slave girl to the 
women s apartments. The inmates, already con 
sumed with jealousy, one of the other, idleness, 
and general inertia, were not so ready to lend an 
ear to old Fatimah as they usually were, when 
Sundari s outside covering was removed and 
she stood revealed in all her innocent loveliness 
which had been artificially enhanced, in the 
secret desire of Fatimah s heart that the women 
should become jealous of her, and thrust her out 
refusing to receive her in the absence of the 
man on whose favour both the lawful wives and 
the slave girls hung in timid but aspiring expec 
tation. 

There was not one of those down-trodden 
women who in the darkened chambers of her 
soul would not have yielded her prospects in an 
uncertain heavenly Paradise for the earthly bliss 
of being regarded in the light of Abu Taleb s 
favourite wife. 

Fatimah explained her errand to the curious 
women, and answered their questions as far as 
she could, while the wondering Sundari stood in 



158 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

a state of bewilderment at the new scene in 
which she found herself. 

Every one seemed to be talking so fast, and so 
unintelligibly, and she could form no idea of 
what it was all about, except in a vague way that 
she was the object of their conversation ; for with 
every fresh item of information imparted by 
Fatimah, the eyes of the women were turned 
upon Sundari in an enquiring fashion until she 
could stand it no longer, and her over-wrought 
feelings found vent in a loud and unrestrained 
burst of weeping in which cries for her mother 
and father were freely mingled. 

Her tears washed the black pigment from 
around her eyes, and soon the inky mixture 
coursed down her saffron besmeared little face, 
until she presented a woeful appearance indeed, 
and she looked no longer the pretty bright ex 
pectant little stranger who had so lately stepped 
across the threshold of Abu s harem. Her grief 
and abandon did more towards enlisting the 
sympathy of the women, than any other appeal 
that she could have made. Her beauty was a 
good reason for fierce jealousy, but her sorrow 
made her one with them. Fatimah would fain 
have clasped her to her heart, and carried her 
away to her own humble dwelling. 

" Weep not, my pretty pearl," she said sooth 
ingly, " I will love you. I will watch over you. 
I will come to see you every day, and you will 
soon be happy again." 



Abu s Favourite Wife 159 

But Sundari s tears would not cease at com 
mand, now that they had broken forth, and she 
wept on convulsively. 

" Take her away, Fatimah, we want no 
heathen Hindu girls here. Take her away," one 
of the older women ordered ; and Fatimah only 
too willing to obey, was about to throw the heavy 
sheet around her, and carry her off when a won 
derfully sweet voice that had hitherto remained 
silent spoke with the accents of extreme languor. 

" You are not to take her away. She belongs 
to me. My lord told me so just before he started 
on his journey. He said she was to be with me 
always until his return." The soft words spoken 
in Telugu fell like music on Sundari s ears, after 
the confused babel of Hindustani, and she smeared 
her face still more in her endeavour to dry her 
tears that she might see the owner of the friendly 
voice and the familiar tongue. 

Fatimah had no choice but to bid the child 
farewell with many promises of returning early 
on the following day. The other women began 
to quarrel for want of another pastime. The 
demon of jealousy had been aroused in them 
when they heard their lord and master had sig 
nalled out his last married, and up till the present 
his favourite wife Rokaia for a good-bye visit, 
and had left the rest of them without a word of 
explanation. They did not even know he had 
gone on a journey until Rokaia s unlucky inter 
ference on behalf of Sundari. 



160 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

Poor little fifteen-year-old Rokaia had only 
been an inmate of the harem for rather more 
than a year. She was bright and happy as any 
Moslem girl, when she left Madras as the bride 
of Abu, but alas ! for her all things had changed 
when she found she had been brought to Balla- 
pura to despose three older women from the 
changeable affections of her lord. 

He was always kind to her, loading her with 
presents of jewellery and rich clothing, but his 
very , apparent partiality rendered her such an 
object of jealousy and hatred to the other wives, 
as well as to the female servants, that before 
many months passed away she began to droop 
like an imprisoned songstress of the woods. Her 
home became a gilded cage ; her jewels were 
as golden fetters ; her bright silken robes op 
pressed her, and she longed to return to her 
father s house where her own mother was the un 
disputed wife, and she herself had played happily 
with her own brothers and sisters. She did not 
know that her father was wise in his generation, 
and possessed sufficient foresight to establish 
separate homes for each of the three women who 
held sway over his affections. Her days passed 
hopelessly by ; her lustrous black eyes grew 
heavy ; her delicate olive complexion assumed a 
pasty hue ; her shining hair lost its gloss, and her 
rounded limbs shrank until she was no longer 
the bright healthy little Rokaia of one short year 
ago. 



Abu s Favourite Wife 161 

Only her voice remained the same as of old ; 
sweet, full, and pure. 

No wonder Abu had tired of her, whispered 
the inmates of the harem and all but she whose 
eyes were almost sightless with the tears she had 
shed, might know at a glance that the bright lit 
tle Hindu maid had only been introduced in the 
guise of a slave in order to supplant the worn 
out Rokaia with her lord. 

" Had not they all been beautiful in their 
time?" they asked themselves indignantly, for 
there were times when even they rebelled at the 
position they were forced into. 

Truly Sundari found herself in a hotbed of fe 
male jealousy, and there was no escaping from it. 
No trips to the water-hole in the shingle bed out 
side the village, no playing at hide and seek in 
the temples ; no story telling to admiring village 
companions ; no occupation of any sort came to 
enliven for her the dull hours of her first few 
weeks as a member of the money lender s house 
hold. There was not even the pleasure of nurs 
ing Rokaia s baby boy which as the most precious 
inmate of the house had been taken from the 
delicate drooping young mother, to be well cared 
for by a nurse of robust physical health, and 
sound Moslem principles. But in some inex 
plicable fashion, the miserable little Mohamme 
dan wife, and the hitherto untamed village child 
crept into each other s hearts and lives. 

The kindness that Rokaia had thrown into her 



162 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

voice on the day of Sundari s arrival, continued 
to be exerted on behalf of the little stranger, till 
it seemed the most natural thing that Sundari 
should always be found hovering around her 
lounge pillows when she was awake*; ministering 
to her in numberless little ways that only real 
love could dictate ; talking to her of things the 
shut-in Rokaia was as ignorant of as a new-born 
baby, and when she slept, lying beside her, keep 
ing watch like some faithful dog. 



XV 

SOWING THE SEED 

A FORTNIGHT had run its course since 
Sundari s introduction into Abu Taleb s 
household of women, and the master 
who ruled their destinies was still absent. More 
over no message had reached the ears of the 
women folk, and even his favourite, Rokaia, was 
in ignorance as to the date of his return. Fati- 
mah came and went as usual, but her visits were 
more prolonged than in past days, for time had 
only served to strengthen her strange love for 
Sundari. As the days lengthened into weeks, 
she began to talk in troubled tones to the serv 
ants as to what could have become of her own 
master who had never stayed so long away from 
home before. 

Abu s business in Bombay could not be settled 
satisfactorily for the want of the information that 
Osman was to bring him, but Osman did not 
come, and Abu was beguiled by his host to 
drink deeply of all the pleasures the populous 
and wicked city of Bombay offered to men of his 
position, wealth and character. 

The first week fled as on eagle s wings, and 
still Osman delayed to appear with his important 
163 



164 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

news. Another week, and Abu came to himself 
after his self-indulgence, and unwonted dissipa 
tion, and with the shrewdness that seemed to 
have deserted him for the time being, he came to 
the conclusion something must have gone wrong 
with Osman his faithful servant who had never 
before failed him in an emergency. Having de 
cided this point, he communicated with the police 
who set enquiries on foot. 

Impatiently Abu waited for news, and was far 
from reassured when the chief of the police him 
self called to say that a man answering to the de 
scription that he had given of Osman, had sought 
and found the house of one named Omar in the 
Mohammedan quarter of the city. 

But Omar lived in a street which the plague 
had swept almost clean of its inhabitants, and the 
stranger who sought lodgings with him had gone 
away as though disappointed. The next morn 
ing, the house searchers had picked up a bundle, 
containing a change of raiment, a worn prayer 
carpet, and a copy of the Koran. The same 
morning a Mussulman had been found stricken 
with plague, lying about half a mile from the 
railway station. He had been taken to the hos 
pital and had died the same night without dis 
closing his name or his place of residence. 

" What has become of the bundle, you say you 
found ? " asked Abu. 

" It is at the police station, Sahib," answered 
the native policeman, making a respectful salaam. 



Sowing the Seed 165 

" Bring it to me, and if I can identify it, I shall 
think my servant must have been he who died 
of the plague." 

In an incredibly short time, the bundle was 
brought, and Abu bade the man open it, and 
spread out its contents. The faded, dirty scrap 
of carpet used for devotional exercises, and the 
well-thumbed old copy of the sacred Koran, he 
could have kicked in his disgust, but when a 
white muslin shirt with a peculiar pattern of em 
broidery upon it was exposed to view, he seized 
it eagerly, examined it minutely, and then threw 
it down as though a scorpion had stung him, for 
he had recognized the dhobi mark of his own 
clothes, and knew the bundle must have belonged 
to Osman, for he was quite aware of the practice 
of the dhobies to lend out for a small sum the 
clothes of their patrons. 

" The bundle could not have belonged to my 
servant. Take the evil-smelling things away, 
and burn them," he ordered, as a sickly faintness 
overcame him, and he felt like reeling backwards 
on the cushions of his lounge. For almost half 
an hour fear clutched at his heart with icy fingers, 
as the certainty forced itself upon his mind that 
Osman had fallen a victim to the plague, that 
might even then be at work in his own system. 
While he thought, he began to fancy his head 
ached, and his body burned. His imaginations 
carried him far enough to make him feel under 
both his arms to ascertain if the bubo had com- 



1 66 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny I ndia 

menced to put in an appearance. To find no 
indication of it did not really allay his awakened 
fears, and he resolved that he would stay no 
longer in the death-shadowed city, but would 
leave his friend Ebrahim Sait, to conclude his 
business affairs while he himself travelled towards 
peaceful Ballapura as fast as the express train on 
the Gr v eat Indian Peninsula Railway would carry 
him. 

Abu announced his intention of returning 
home that day, but his uncle told him he could 
not possibly arrange to leave by that afternoon s 
mail as he must obtain a medical passport before 
he could be allowed to leave the city. The 
money-lender was already in a state of nervous 
excitement, and when he learned that he must 
be examined by a doctor, and receive his per 
mission to return home, his anger was fully 
aroused, and he declared with many impreca 
tions that he would never submit to such 
tyranny. 

Abu trusted to his wealth, and his standing as 
a leading sowcar, to release him from complying 
with the rules that were all very well for the 
lower orders, and the outcast Hindus : so with 
out paying any attention to his uncle s advice 
that he should drive to the nearest doctor, and 
get his passport signed, he avowed his determi 
nation to take his ticket in the usual way, and 
go home without the interference of any au 
thorities, 



Sowing the Seed 167 

His portmanteau was soon packed, and think 
ing he would on this occasion dispense with the 
intermediary services of a servant, he arrived at 
the railway station, and in all the conscious 
dignity of a prosperous Mohammedan gentle 
man he forced his way through the cosmopolitan 
crowd around the ticket-window and demanded 
a first-class ticket to Ballapura. 

" Yes, Sahib. Will the Sahib kindly shew his 
passport ? " asked the native clerk, deferentially, 
as he noted the wealth of jewels displayed by 
Abu. 

" Passport ? Here is my passport," and he 
pushed some golden coins in payment of his 
ticket, towards the astonished man. 

" The Sahib does not understand. I mean a 
doctor s certificate to say he is in perfect health." 

There were others waiting their opportunity 
to show their passports and to purchase their 
tickets and they began to grow impatient at 
being kept waiting while the rich man argued 
with the ticket-clerk. The people at the back 
jostled those in front, and gradually Abu felt 
himself being hemmed in, while he fancied he 
could again smell the disgusting odour that 
Osman s bundle had emitted, and again he felt 
faint, and the same indescribable giddiness, that 
he had experienced in the early morning, nearly 
overcame him. 

" If you have no passport, Sahib, kindly move 
away and make room for others." The clerk 



168 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

spoke less respectfully than at first, and his voice 
had a far-away sound in it, nevertheless Abu 
moved, and made an attempt to get on to the 
platform where he could see the train drawn up. 
But the entrance to it was guarded by burly po 
licemen who strove to keep order amongst the 
thousands of frightened people, who like Abu, 
were fleeing from the city of destruction. 

With strenuous efforts on the part of the 
guardians of the gate, they were filtered through 
one by one, and made to produce their passports 
to the officers who were in charge of the plat 
form, and Abu was convinced at last that there 
was no hope of getting through the narrow gate 
that meant home, safety, and immunity from 
plague without that official strip of paper, and he 
turned away with supreme disgust just as the 
gates were closed with prompt decision, and the 
surging masses were told the train was already too 
heavily freighted, and no more passengers could 
be taken that day. 

Abu knew there was but one course open to 
him now, and that was to return to his uncle s 
house, confess himself defeated in his attempt at 
surreptitious flight, and sink to the dignity of a 
medical examination. 

" Send for one of our men," he urged. "A bribe 
will soon procure me the necessary certificate." 

" Alas : alas, my son ; only those appointed by 
Government are allowed to sign the official pass 
port, and so you must present yourself in the 



Sowing the Seed 169 

ordinary way at the appointed time and place, 
and be examined by the usual methods." 

" Then let us get through with it at once for I 
must leave this accursed place to-morrow." 

" Patience, patience, peace, my son. God is 
all merciful. God is powerful," said the older 
man mildly but exasperatingly. " Why such 
haste, and such fear ? If you are to succumb to 
the plague, you will die no sooner for remaining 
here a few hours longer. Moreover you cannot 
see the doctors until to-morrow morning. The 
offices close at six o clock." 

No allurements were strong enough to tempt 
Abu abroad that night ; sleep deserted him, and 
fear held him in triumphant embrace. The next 
morning he was amongst the first applicants for a 
passport, and as the rush of business had not 
commenced, the Parsee doctor, who was on duty 
for the first few hours, gave the Mohammedan 
gentleman his best attention. He felt his pulse ; 
he looked at his tongue, and apparently not be 
ing satisfied with the story they told, he produced 
a clinical thermometer and took his temperature. 
Again Abu experienced that horrible uneasy 
sensation, and the doctor happening to glance at 
his face, saw the fear it betrayed, and noted the 
haggard expression of the eyes. His idea that 
all was not well was confirmed when he saw that 
the thermometer recorded a slight rise of temper 
ature. With maddening deliberation he turned 
to the eager man and said, " Sahib, I very much 



170 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

regret that I shall have to detain you for a day 
or so. You have a slight, a very slight rise in 
your temperature, only the matter of a degree 
or so ; it may be due to over anxiety, or it may 
indicate fever, and as you know fever generally 
precedes plague, so that I must, though very 
reluctantly, refrain from allowing you to leave 
Bombay to-day." 

Others were claiming attention, and the force 
of circumstances once more made it necessary 
for Abu Taleb in all the rage of his burning dis 
appointment to make way for them. Passport, 
or no passport: plague or no plague, he was 
fully determined to leave Bombay that afternoon. 
" What is the good of all my wealth, if it cannot 
help me in an emergency like this ? " he muttered, 
and once more summoning his servant, who 
carried his portmanteau, he hired a common 
jutka, and gave the driver orders to take him 
some twenty miles out of Bombay. Dismissing 
the man with a large fee, he made his prepara 
tions for the various detours he had arranged 
while being jolted along in the jutka, and before 
dawn of the next morning he had the satisfac 
tion of finding himself out of the plague infected 
area. His satisfaction was somewhat marred by 
the knowledge that he was thus a good deal fur 
ther from home than he desired to be. 

By the lavish expenditure of his rupees he 
boarded without question a local train that carried 
him many miles on to where he could connect 



Sowing the Seed 171 

with another train, that in the course of twenty- 
four hours would land him at a point from 
whence he could take a slow train that would set 
him down within a bullock-cart journey of Bal- 
lapura. Thus the days of his absence were pro 
longed, and the women of his harem in Ballapura 
having less cause for jealousy because he was not 
there to favour one more than another, grew 
more friendly amongst themselves, and began to 
share in the little diversions that Sundari s advent 
had caused. She was a child of the great un 
known world, and when once her sorrow and 
shyness had worn away her naturally lively 
temperament asserted itself, and she beguiled 
many weary hours for Rokaia by her stories 
of the gods and goddesses of Hindu fame. 
In time, it became quite the event of the 
day for the women to gather around the sick 
girl s mat, and listen with eyes, as well as ears to 
Sundari s lively imaginations. 

Sometimes Rokaia would act the part of in 
terpreter for the sake of the women who did not 
fully follow Sundari s village Telugu. 

Old Fatimah was nearly always a privileged 
listener, for she remembered her promise to come 
every day to see her little favourite. 

One day she begged for a repetition of the 
story the white woman had told on Sundari s 
last eventful day in her old home. This was a 
story the child loved well herself, and she always 
threw all her natural talent into the recital of it. 



172 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

She described the strange woman s wondrous 
garments, and the whiteness of her skin; her 
musical instrument, and her foreign accent in 
talking Kanarese. But all this was merely by 
way of an introduction to the part of the story 
that appealed to them more especially. 

" She told us," Sundari continued in dulcet 
tones, " that a powerful King, who was her friend, 
had sent her with a message to every woman and 
girl in our village. Her friend desired that we 
should all know He loved us very much, and 
would care for us always, and do us good while 
we lived in this birth, and when this life was over 
He would take us to live with Him in a place 
more beautiful than we could imagine Kailasa to 
be." 

" Kailasa means to Sundari, the same as Para 
dise means to us," explained Rokaia. 

Sundari waited for the explanation, and then 
calmly continued, " The name of this great King 
is Jesus. He is different from our gods because 
He does not send some dreadful punishment upon 
us when we forget to do pooja to Him. He 
does not favour men more than women. He 
gives joy, rest, and peace to all alike. We can 
not see Him with these eyes," and Sundari 
touched her own expressive ones, " but we can 
see Him with some new kind of eyes that He 
will give to every one who desires to have them. 

" All this the lady told us, and she promised 
to come back another day, and tell us the rest of 



Sowing the Seed 173 

her message, so that we could learn to love, and 
worship her King Jesus." 

" I wish she would come here too. It is often 
dull and lonely. I would like to hear the beau 
tiful music you say she carried," said Abu s 
eldest wife. " I would like to have those new 
sort of eyes, so that I could see the wonderful 
King for myself. Our master never seems able 
to care for more than one of us at a time. I 
can t understand how this King Jesus can love 
everybody exactly the same," murmured the girl 
who was only the senior wife over Rokaia by a 
few months. 

" I would like the happiness and the rest," 
sighed little Rokaia, " but how can we get it 
when there is no one to show us the way ? " 

" Shall I bring the white Mem Sahib here ? " 
eagerly asked Fatimah. " I know the two native 
women who go about with her, and I know the 
English Sahib who preaches in the vegetable 
bazaar every evening." 

" Would she come if you asked her ? " came 
in chorus from the listening women. 

" If her friend Jesus is kind and loving, and 
wants everybody to know about Him, perhaps 
He would be glad if we knew more about Him." 

" Oh, but we are Moslem women, secluded be 
hind the purdah. I don t suppose He ever 
heard of us. It can only be Hindu women, and 
the white women like the Mem Sahib whom He 
loves," suggested another one in a sad voice. 



174 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

" Well, Fatimah, bring her to see us, while the 
master is still away, and we will ask her all about 
her Jesus," said the eldest of the women in such 
a tone of daring that all the others stood aghast 
at the immensity of the command. 

Fatimah departed with many assurances of 
bringing the lady the next day, and the women 
set about their simple household duties, each one 
with a heart lightened because of the singing of 
the little bird of hope within her. 



XVI 

THE GOOD SHEPHERD 

LINGAPPA S journeying was of neces 
sity a slow undertaking : but he trav 
elled on bravely from place to place, 
often foot sore and weary, for it was seldom he 
obtained even the help of a friendly bullock-cart 
by the way. He begged a handful of food here 
and there, or did a little work in return for a 
meal or a resting-place at night. Always look 
ing for Sundari ; but receiving no news concern 
ing her, he began to feel his old weariness re 
turning as the hope of rinding his child faded 
away, and he realized that he had wandered far 
from the home and companions of his previous 
lifetime. 

One day he reached a village that was in 
habited solely by people belonging to the 
shepherd caste, and he had been received kindly 
by the simple hearted shepherds whom he had 
met leading their flocks some miles away from 
the village to try and find them even the scantiest 
herdage. He had joined himself to the men, 
and stayed on in their company all that day, 
with the result that they had invited him to re 
turn with them at night, partake of their poor 



176 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

provisions, and help in some much needed re 
pairs that were required in the village because 
the carpenter had been ill some months with a 
slow fever. 

Lingappa, tired of his lonely wandering life, 
accepted the proffered hospitality of the strangers, 
and walked back with them, listening to their 
talk of the expected arrival in their village of 
some great Englishman. 

" Who is the Dhorai coming to the village this 
evening ? " asked Lingappa whose curiosity was 
aroused by all he had heard. 

" We do not know. But his servants came 
early this morning : they brought with them two 
bullock-carts quite full of boxes, tents, books, 
and other things," said a younger member of the 
little company. 

" One of the servants went all through the 
village to try and buy a chicken, or even a lamb. 
He wanted milk and vegetables too, and he said 
they were for his master s breakfast." 

" I saw one of the men putting up a white 
tent, half a mile this side of the village, and when 
I stopped to watch him at work he told me his 
master, an English Dhorai was going to live there 
for some days," chimed in another voice eager to 
contribute his item of news to the general fund. 

Their walk was enlivened by having such an 
unusual topic of conversation. They speculated 
upon whom the stranger could be, what he 
would be like and above all what business had 



The Good Shepherd 177 

brought him to their village for some days at 
least. 

Their conversation lasted until they reached 
the sheep folds, but there it received a sudden 
check, for sitting on a large stone near to where 
the flocks were to spend the night, was a beauti 
ful white haired, blue eyed, calm faced stranger 
who for one second neither moved nor spoke : 
the shepherds did not connect him with the 
great Englishman of whom they had been talk 
ing, but fancied him some marvellous old yogi 
whom they had suddenly surprised in the 
reverent act of holy contemplation, and they 
paused as though fearful of disturbing one in 
communion with others, holy and devoted as 
himself. But their superstitious fancies were 
soon put to flight, by the supposed yogi rising 
from his seat, and revealing himself as a vigorous 
well made man in the prime of life. 

His kindly blue eyes twinkled as he saw the 
impression he had produced upon the minds of 
the simple untaught shepherds; for astonish 
ment, fear, superstition and reverence chased 
each other in quick succession across the faces 
of the men. When he raised his right hand to 
his forehead, and with the very intonation of 
their own soft tongue, gave them the customary 
salutation of " Peace be unto you," his conquest 
over their rude natures was complete, and they 
yielded themselves up to the fascination of the 
hour that followed. 



1 78 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

Without being conscious of the fact, they did 
much of the talking themselves, and even once 
or twice thought how ignorant their interlocutor 
must be in the matter of sheep. 

" What animals are these ? " asked Mr. Burton 
for it was he who had arrived thus far on one of 
his itinerating journeys. 

Some of the men exchanged glances as one of 
them replied, " These animals are called sheep." 

" Sheep ; they look just like goats to me." 

" Ah : but you are not used to sheep like we 
are. We are shepherds, and we should know 
directly if a goat got into our flocks." 

" But are the goats not very much like the 
sheep ? I cannot see much difference." 

" They are much the same size and colour, 
and eat the same food, but their habits are quite 
different. We who are used to the sheep and 
goats can easily tell the one from the other." 

" What have you been doing all day with your 
sheep?" was the next innocent question the 
stranger asked. One man laughed softly, for 
the venerable appearance of the unexpected ap 
parition awed him, while his question was in 
tensely amusing. 

" Doing ! why we have been taking them out 
to find their food. From early this morning, we 
have been leading them from place to place to 
get what little grass there is to be found, and 
now we have brought them back safely for the 
night." 



The Good Shepherd 179 

" Why don t you leave them to find their own 
food like the dogs, the crows, and the jackals ? " 

" Because they cannot care for themselves. If 
we did not feed them, and take them to where 
the grass grows, and the pools of water are to 
be found, they would soon die of hunger and 
thirst." 

" I noticed just now, that you counted every 
sheep as it reached the fold. What was that 
for?" 

" Oh, to see we had our right number. Some- , 
times a sheep gets lost from the flock, and then 
we have to go out and look for it until we find 
it, and bring it back. That is why we count our 
sheep." 

" But would you waste your time, looking for 
one sheep that had strayed away ? What is the 
value of one sheep compared with the hundreds 
you have here ? " 

" Yes, indeed, every one of the flock is too 
valuable, and too precious to lose sight of." 

" Suppose you missed a weak, or a sick one 
from your flock, would you trouble about that ? " 

" Those are the ones we have to take the most 
care of, because they cannot look after them 
selves : sometimes we carry our sickly lambs for 
miles, until they are well and strong, and can run 
with the rest of the flock." 

" You seem very kind to your sheep. You 
take them out to find the best food ; you guard 
them at night. You seek them if they are lost, 



180 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

and carry them if they are sick. I should think 
they must always want to stay near you. It 
must be quite an accident if any of them wander 
from you so as to get lost." 

The English Dhorai was too simple altogether, 
and the shepherds could not restrain a good 
laugh this time. 

Even Lingappa, the carpenter, saw the joke, 
for he had witnessed in his one day s company 
with the sheep and the shepherds, the vigilance 
that was needed to keep those wandering sheep 
together. 

The Dhorai s mild face assumed a look of sur 
prise at the outburst of unrestrained laughter, 
and he repeated his question, " Do the sheep 
ever wander from such kind shepherds as you 
appear to be ? " 

" Wander away, O Englishman ! I should 
think they do. Those sheep are absolutely 
without any sense. It is all that we, and our 
dogs can do, to keep them together, as we lead 
them out day by day : they always seem to want 
to go in a contrary direction, and if one more 
silly than another tried to run down a side road, 
the others are sure to want to follow." 

" Then of course they must lose themselves 
sometimes." 

" Yes, but we generally find them, unless they 
are torn by wild beasts, or stolen by the wander 
ing tribes of hill gipsies." 

" Ah well ! you know your business best, but 



The Good Shepherd 181 

it is a mystery to me how you find them, and 
when you find them how you know them." 

" Listen, oh, Dhorai, and I will explain. 
We search for our sheep in places where they 
are likely to have strayed. We call them in 
tones they are familiar with, and often from them 
we get an answering cry, that leads us in their 
direction. We know the sound of their bleat, 
and they know the tone of our voice." 

" When you find your wandering sheep, do 
you punish it, and leave it shut up at home the 
next day, giving it no food or water ? " 

Again, the half clad native shepherds ex 
changed glances which seemed to be challenging 
each other to deny such an atrocious suggestion. 
With a touch of scornful pride in his voice be 
cause the Englishman did not understand shep 
herd nature better, the oldest man among them 
hastened to say, 

" Punish them ! Oh Dhorai ; they are our 
sheep : they belong to us ; we care for them too 
much to starve or beat them." 

The missionary had led his audience up to the 
point he was aiming at, and in another second 
the questioner became the inspired guru, and in 
a flood of simple language, all the more eloquent 
because of its simplicity, he was pouring out to 
the astonished shepherds, the application of all 
the information that they themselves had sup 
plied. In burning words he told them how God, 
the Great Spirit partook of the character of the 



182 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

shepherd, and how the men and women of this 
world were just like the sheep they knew so 
well. 

Even as they cared for their sheep, nourished 
them, protected them, sought them, called them 
by name, brought them back from their wander 
ings, loved them still, so God the Great Good 
Shepherd of all mankind, sought with tenderness 
and love those who in their ignorance and folly 
wandered from Him, trying to choose out their 
own path. 

Like the shepherds too, He planned for the 
good of His sheep; He knew the sound of their 
voice : He counted them over to see that none 
was missing, and rested not day nor night if one 
were out alone, caught in some thicket of prickly 
pear, or lying exposed on some rocky elevation, 
the prey of wild beasts or marauding gipsies. 

The parable went home to the hearts of those 
untutored shepherds, and for the first time in 
their lives, they had received an entirely new 
conception of the character of God. They knew 
well, the destroying God, and the creating God : 
they knew all about the millions of minor deities 
whom it was such a task to propitiate, but the 
Shepherd God was a wonderful new revelation, 
and such a God appealed to them because He 
came so into line with the daily thoughts and oc 
cupation of all the past years of their lives. 

A shepherd God who would not punish for 
misdemeanours ; who would not take their food 



The Good Shepherd 183 

from them ; but who would go on caring for 
them, rescuing them, counting them, calling 
them by name just as they did their own sheep, 
was such a stupendous thought that the whole 
company of shepherds, as well as Lingappa, the 
stranger, was awed into silence. 

The dim stars peeped forth, and shed their 
pale light over the silvery haired speaker, and 
over the weird unclad Eastern shepherds sitting 
in all sorts of uncouth attitudes as their thoughts 
were led slowly, but surely, onward and upward, 
until they could almost fancy they heard the 
tones of the Good Shepherd Himself calling each 
one by name, to some fold of quietness and rest. 

Lingappa s heart beat with a glad new hope, 
like the joyous note of some happy singing bird, 
as the truth dawned upon him that the Jesus 
who gave rest and peace, the Jesus whom the 
English lady had spoken of, must be the very 
Good Shepherd who cared enough for His sheep 
to seek them out until He found them. 

The group dispersed. The shepherds to their 
village homes, and the missionary to his tent 
whither Lingappa watched him, with the resolve 
to follow him later on, when the curtain of night 
should shroud the whole place in darkness. 
Meanwhile the folded sheep were left to the 
guardian care of two watchers, and to such 
silence as a tropical night ever afforded. 



XVII 

BY DAY AND BY NIGHT 

MR. BURTON had left Ballapura, the 
last day of August, purposing to make a 
shorter trip than usual so that he might 
be back at his headquarters station before the 
celebration of the Dipavali festival for which un 
usually important preparations were in train. 

Millions of people in Southern India accepted 
with stoical resignation the evil times that shad 
owed and darkened their beloved land with 
plague and famine, which to them were the nec 
essary results of the Kali Yuga or age of evil, 
which was all too slowly running its course. 
Their hope of deliverance from their present dis 
tresses lay in the return of Krishna upon his 
milk white steed, and to the time when he should 
suddenly appear as their long promised deliverer, 
their eager eyes were turned ; but there were al 
most countless millions in addition to these, who 
cared not for such far off probabilities as the al 
ready long delayed appearance of Krishna. Their 
attention was concentrated upon things present 
rather than upon the expectations of the uncer 
tain future. 

Krishna certainly would not come until the 
* 184 



By Day and By Night 185 

end of the Kali Yuga, and who could tell when 
that would be, whereas Lakshmi, the wife of 
Vishnu, and the goddess of prosperity might be 
propitiated at the present moment by pandering 
to her supposed tastes, and making a great dis 
play to win her favour, upon the nights of the 
annual festival partly dedicated to her. 

There would be an unusual influx of country 
people into Ballapura for the celebration, and 
Mr. Burton wanted to have the entire strength of 
his mission agents to help him take full advan 
tage of the opportunity thus afforded of reaching 
the great number of people that would crowd the 
streets by day in anticipation of the fireworks 
display when the darkness set in. The shepherd 
village was his last stopping place for this trip, 
and he had himself arrived a little in advance of 
his catechists who could not be persuaded that 
walking was such a healthy exercise as the Dhorai 
sought to demonstrate, when they were out on 
tour. 

They were often lost in admiration at the mar 
vellous western energy displayed by Mr. Burton 
as he swung along the rough roads in the early 
morning hours, or after the cool of the afternoon 
had set in, and on the day that the Shepherd 
Village had been reached, the two catechists had 
panted and perspired to keep up with the mis 
sionary, and finally had lagged behind to ride in 
calm content on top of the luggage packed be 
hind two slow going bullocks. Two other carts 



1 86 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

laden with tents and cooking apparatus, had pre 
ceded the party by a good many hours, and 
when Mr. Burton came in view of the village he 
was seeking, he was glad to find his tent pitched 
under a spreading tree, and an appetizing meal 
ready. 

By the time breakfast was over, the sun had 
mounted so far up into the heavens, that it was 
folly to think of going out for a few hours, so he 
sat down to a little camp table, and wrote letters, 
becoming so absorbed in his occupation that he 
did not notice the many curious eyes peeping at 
him through every available aperture. The 
hours passed by, and there was no sign of the 
third bullock cart, nor of the catechists who 
were to accompany him into the village for the 
open air preaching. But Mr. Burton was a 
veteran missionary and when he found that his 
native helpers must have been delayed on their 
way, he set off alone to view the land round his 
tent, and thus walked on until he reached the 
sheep folds where he sat down to wait the com 
ing of his audience ; for he judged the shepherds 
would be returning with their flocks ere the 
darkness set in. As he waited he prayed, and 
while he prayed, the men, whose hearts the Lord 
was preparing to receive the tiny gospel seed, 
drew near, halted, and finally filled with wonder 
they sat down at his feet to receive the message 
of God s love that he to whom they listened, had 
travelled hundreds of miles to deliver. 



By Day and By Night 187 

Viewed from the distant village, the site of the 
missionary s tent could not be mistaken, for the 
camp-fires over which the cook was busy prepar 
ing his master s meal shone out like huge glow 
worms. 

With such signals, Lingappa felt sure he could 
not miss his way even in the darkness that had 
wrapped a mantle of secrecy over the whole 
place. For once in his life, the blackness of 
night had a charm for him as he reflected that 
he could get into the light of the tent without 
any one being the wiser, and he was not at all 
sure that he desired the shepherds to know of 
his intended visit. 

His evening meal was dispatched, and his com 
panions became more talkative than was usual 
with them, for on the whole the shepherds were 
a silent people. All that the strange English 
Dhorai had spoken of, was commented upon, and 
discussed in their simple fashion, until Lingappa 
feared they would never compose themselves for 
their night s slumber. Occasionally he turned 
watchful eyes towards the white tent that 
gleamed in the light of the camp-fires, and he 
was relieved to see the dark forms of the servants 
still moving about. 

But as the shepherds talked on, the fires died 

down, and only the kerosene lamp suspended 

from the tent pole threw out a sickly light. 

It was far on into the night before the anxious 

carpenter found his opportunity, while others 



i88 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

slept, to get across the compound that separated 
the village from the little encampment under the 
spreading tree. He raised himself up cautiously 
from amongst his sleeping companions, and with 
a cat-like tread went down the village streets 
fearful lest that one beacon light should be ex 
tinguished before he reached his goal. Once or 
twice he lost sight of it as the street wound from 
point to point, and he trembled with fear at the 
thought he might have delayed too long in 
starting for the Dhorai s tent. 

Nearer and nearer he approached to the 
friendly light that seemed to beckon him on 
wards to the protection of its companionship. 

He passed three bullock carts, and fancied he 
could see the figures of men stretched beneath 
them, but he did not stop to satisfy himself on 
that point, for it was within the tent that he felt 
there lay light and hope for him, if he could once 
get to know more about the shrine of Jesus, the 
Rest Giver. The voice that still sounded within 
him seemed to assure him that the master who 
dwelt in the tent was the one to tell him many 
things that he longed to know and understand. 

The flap of the tent was up, for the night was 
warm and close, so that Lingappa had a good 
view of the interior of the most mysterious place 
he had ever seen. He lay quietly down on his 
stomach, with his head slightly raised above the 
ground, so that he might see all without himself 
being seen. 



By Day and By Night 189 

The camp cot with its mosquito nets tucked 
carefully in, looked a supernatural object to him, 
but as he peeped secretly, his eyes wandered 
from that, and became riveted upon the figure of 
Mr. Burton, sitting on his camp stool with a 
small book held in such a position that the 
rays from the lamp fell right across its pages, 
while they left his face very slightly in the 
shadow. 

Suddenly, he closed the book, rose, and walked 
to the tent door. Lingappa was so astonished 
that he could neither move nor speak for a sec 
ond, and when he did raise himself from his re 
cumbent attitude, Mr. Burton was so close to 
him that it was useless for him to try and retire, 
without speaking. 

Full of his great desires, he stood revealed be 
fore the missionary, a poor unclothed, unkempt 
heathen man, with soulful eyes aglow with the 
yearning awakened by the sound of the soft per 
sistent voice within him. Ever kindly, ever 
sympathetic, Mr. Burton saw at a glance that 
this was no marauding visitor whom he had 
surprised, and in tones of winning sweetness, he 
said, " Peace be unto thee, O my friend. Come 
within, and share in the light and protection of 
the tent." 

Lingappa obeyed the invitation, that sounded 
something of a command as well. As he stepped 
into the light, he wondered that he had attained 
his object so easily. 



190 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

Soon he was seated upon the floor with his 
glowing eyes fixed upon Mr. Burton, who, by a 
few judicious questions drew from the man the 
object of his midnight visit, and little by little 
he learned the history of the last month of his 
life which he seemed to date from the first day 
of Hilda Roi s visit to Lingapura. " No God 
ever spoke to me like that voice I heard the 
night my wife died, and when you spoke this 
afternoon about God being like a shepherd, I 
wanted to hear more. Show me thy favour, O 
Dhorai, and tell me more about the Shepherd 
Swami, and Jesus Swami of whom the lady 
spoke that day so long ago," concluded Ling- 
appa with a strong appeal in his tired voice and 
face. 

Lingappa was a man in stature and in years, 
but only a little child in the awakening of his 
higher faculties, and so as to a child of tender 
years Mr. Burton explained the wondrous story 
of the God, who so loved the world, that " He 
gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever be- 
lieveth in Him should not perish, but have ever 
lasting life." 

With simple forceful words, he told how this 
God who was so new to the listener on the floor, 
was good and true ; was pure and holy ; was lov 
ing and kind, and was ever desirous of helping 
men and women, boys and girls, rich and poor, 
caste and outcaste to become like Himself in all 
things. 



By Day and By Night 191 

" I suppose you know this God very well," 
said Lingappa half deprecatingly. 

" Oh, yes," and Mr. Burton s face shone with 
the remembrance of all the Lord had done for 
him, " I know Him well and it is because I know 
Him, I am here to tell you about Him, that you 
may know Him, and become like Him too." 

" From my early childhood, my work has 
taken me in and out of the temples. I know all 
the gods by name, yet I never heard of this One 
who does not delight to annoy and persecute His 
worshippers. Did you say your God knows all 
about me, and wants to do me good rather than 
evil?" 

Yes, Lingappa, my friend. He does know all 
about you all your desires, and all your needs. 
He can read your heart at this very moment, 
and knows the thoughts that are passing through 
your mind." 

" I never heard anything like this before, and 
I don t seem to understand what you are say 
ing," he replied despairingly. 

Over, and over again, patiently, gently, and 
wisely Mr. Burton sought to make clear the mys 
tery of God s boundless love, to the man who 
listened but commented not, upon all he heard. 
His heart was being stirred to its very depths, as 
the wonder of it all crept into his soul slowly but 
surely as midnight darkness glides almost imper 
ceptibly into the grey dawn of early morning 
ere the sun arises in all the majesty of his glo- 



192 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

rious power to chase away the last lingering shad 
ows of daybreak. 

" Your words are good ; they sound like tom 
toms at a wedding feast, carrying with them 
beats of good fortune for the future," he burst 
out at last. " But tell me, O wise Englishman, 
does any one else beside you and the lady know 
the secret of the God of love ? " 

" Yes, yes, O Lingappa, many thousands know 
Him, and have proved Him true to all His 
promises of love and benediction." 

" Tell me of some who know Him." 

Willingly but briefly, Mr. Burton told of the 
natives of India who had become followers of 
Jesus, of the people in England, and other Chris 
tian lands, and even of the good Queen Empress 
who though so mighty and powerful herself, 
bowed in humble adoration and love at the feet 
of the God of love who was also King of Kings 
and Lord of Lords. 

The first heralds of morning were at hand, 
and Lingappa rose with a reluctant sigh as though 
he would fain have lingered yet awhile. One 
more question trembled on his lips. 

" Have you, and all those others known about 
the great and True God, only a little while ? " 

" We have known it all our lives." 

"All your life, you are an old man. Your 
hair is white. You must have lived many years. 
Are there plenty as old as you, who know all 
that you have been telling me ? " 



By Day and By Night 193 

" Yes, thousands of people, O Lingappa," and 
in the grey dawn Mr. Burton felt his face burn 
with shame for the thousands who knew the 
truth, and withheld the message. 

Lingappa s hands clutched nervously, and his 
face trembled like a little child s about to burst 
into a cry of distress as he replied, " Thousands 
know the God of Love, and no one came to tell 
me the good news before. Salaam, salaam, O 
great white man. The shadows of night have 
passed, and the light of breaking day creeps o er 
the land," and without another word he stole 
silently back to the village that was awakening 
to a new morning. 

Attentive crowds listened to the gospel-story 
that Mr. Burton and his two catechists told upon 
every occasion during the next two days, and 
again Lingappa crept like a ghostly visitor to 
the white tent when darkness had fallen the fol 
lowing night. The third night he came again, 
but not alone, for like Philip of old he had said 
to the shepherds, " Come and see." Five of 
them responded to his invitation, and heard for 
themselves, the things Lingappa had tried to re 
tail to them, of his quiet talks with the Dhorai. 

" Send us a teacher," they implored at the end 
of the interview, " we will listen to him ; we will 
leave our idol gods, and love and serve the True 
and Living God as soon as we know the way." 



XVIII 

. 

FATIMAH S GUEST 

WHEN Fatimah left Abu Taleb s house 
hold of women, on the afternoon of 
the day that Sundari had succeeded in 
interesting her companions up to the point of de 
siring to see and hear for themselves what Hilda 
Roi had to say about the One who cared for all 
women as much as He did for boys and men, the 
old woman determined to go to the place in the 
bazaar where Mr. Burton was accustomed to 
preach, and try to send a message by one of the 
native men who always stood near the Dhorai. 
This was her plan, but the more she thought of 
it, the more nervous she grew, and as she con 
tinued her walk, she shrank with the timidity of 
a Mohammedan woman at the thought of speak 
ing to a strange man, and that man, one of an 
other faith. She drew her veil closer as she got 
into the more crowded streets, and hardly noticed 
the familiar way she was taking, so engrossed was 
she with thinking of what she should do and say 
to attract the attention of the catechist. Soon 
the smell of fragrant jessamine flowers told her 
she must be near the spot, at the far end of the 
194 



Fatimah s Guest 195 

flower bazaar, from which she could catch sight 
of the Dhorai s white topee as he stood in the 
midst of the usual crowd ; but when she looked 
to make sure she was in the right place, she was 
astonished to see neither crowd nor preacher. 
There were only just the ordinary buying and 
selling, quarrelling and bargaining of an Eastern 
bazaar. 

She did not know whether she was disap 
pointed at not seeing the one she sought, or re 
lieved at not having to brace her failing courage 
up to the point of speaking to an utter stranger in 
order to send her request to the Englishwoman 
whom she felt sure must be in some way con 
nected with the Englishman who told of the 
same kind of friend as Sundari said the lady 
talked about. 

However night was fast approaching, and 
there was nothing more to be done, but to re 
turn to her own quarters, and watch for the 
passing of the reading-women who visited the 
houses in the Pettah, and would talk to any one 
who desired them to do so. 

She retraced her steps, walking on, in abstrac 
tion, in her new effort to try and plan how to 
redeem her promise to the gentle Rokaia, and 
take the English Dhorasani to see her. 

It took her nearly an hour to reach her own 
house, and just as she turned the corner near 
Ganesa s shrine, she saw in the distance a bullock 
cart standing at the entrance to her courtyard, 



196 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

and she surmised Osman, her lord must have re 
turned home at last. She knew how angry he 
would be that she was not in, with a good supper 
awaiting him. She had become used to his long 
absence, and had certainly trespassed upon it, 
growing more and more careless about her home 
duties, as she sunned herself in the light of Sun- 
dari s bright young life. Now she told herself 
she would have to pay dearly for the unwonted 
liberty she had enjoyed during the past three 
weeks. Hilda Roi, the missionary, Rokaia, the 
little Mohammedan wife, Sundari, the beautiful 
slave girl, and her thrilling stories of Jesus 
Swami vanished from her mind as she hastened 
her trembling steps to meet the full force of the 
torrent of anger she quite expected would burst 
upon her as soon as Osman should see her ugly 
old face, for he never forgot to taunt her on her 
lack of female beauty. 

But her fear gave place to astonishment when 
she drew near the cart, to see two strange men 
emerge from her dwelling as though undecided 
what to do next. Their expressionless faces 
underwent no change on seeing the old woman 
standing near the cart. They accosted her in 
Hindustani without as much as making a pre 
liminary salaam, or giving her a respectful title. 
" Is this the house of Osman, the servant of Abu 
Taleb, the money-lender of Ballapura ? " 

" You have arrived at the right house," replied 
Fatimah salaaming low, and quaking with unde- 



Fatimah s Guest 197 

fined dread while she waited for what should 
come next. 

" Come then, O my brother," said the one who 
had first spoken, " let us lift the sick man out, 
and have finished with all the trouble we have 
had in bringing him here." 

" Good for him he was so well provided with 
rupees, or he would have shared the same fate as 
the dog of a servant we left lying dead on the 
road, ten miles away," said the second man in a 
harsh voice. 

Fatimah was a curious woman now, and no 
longer the closely -veiled Moslem female who had 
glided through the streets only a few minutes 
previously, for she had let fall her heavy outer 
covering, and was watching with startled eyes, 
the two men lift from the cart an unconscious 
form, carry it inside her house, and deposit it 
upon the dirty lounge that belonged to her own 
master. 

Without any further word of explanation the 
strange bullock-drivers left the house, and before 
the old woman could shake off the stupid fear 
that enthralled her, they were twisting their bul 
locks tails encouragingly, and cheering them on 
to make the best possible speed they were capable 
of, so as to get away from what they knew to be 
an unpleasant piece of business. 

Fatimah never doubted but what it was her 
husband who had returned in such an unusually 
unceremonious fashion. She knew the Hindus, 



198 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

and the Mohammedans too, often drank toddy 
and arrack until they lay about quite helpless, but 
she had never known her master to forget himself 
in such a way, she whispered, as she approached 
his prostrate body to find out if there were any 
smell about him like she had noticed coming 
from the numerous toddy shops she had to pass 
on her way through the bazaars. 

But it was dark, and she paused to light her 
tiny wick that floated in a meagre supply of 
cocoanut oil. With the lamp in her hand, there 
was a little more assurance in her heart, and she 
even had time to feel rather glad that Osman had 
returned in such a state, for would it not give her 
the opportunity to prepare his meal and have 
everything in readiness by the time he came to 
himself? She raised her lamp, and held it over 
the unconscious form of the man left so sum 
marily in her house. One glance, and the lamp 
dropped from her hands and she herself uttered 
a half suppressed cry as she recognized not Os 
man, her lord, but Abu Taleb her lord s master. 
The lamp fell with a crash spluttering the hot oil 
on the upturned face of the luxuriously reared 
Abu, who stirred and began to mutter incoher 
ently in English, and then to speak more dis 
tinctly in his mother tongue. It was dark, and 
Fatimah knew not where to obtain another 
light ; besides she was benumbed with deadly 
fear as she crouched listening like one fascinated, 
to the ravings of the sick man ; for she concluded 



Fatimah s Guest 199 

he must be ill, or he would never toss and turn, 
and mutter and rave alternately in the way he 
was doing. Once she thought of trying to touch 
him to see if he burnt with fever, but she could 
not tell where his hands lay, and she dare not 
trust herself to touch in the darkness, any part 
of his body that might lie nearest to her. The 
night wore slowly away, and the money-lender 
raved on of loss and gain, of Osman his servant, 
of the death dealing plague, and of his determi 
nation to reach Ballapura in spite of the authori 
ties in Bombay. " Osman is dead. I tell you 
he is dead. The accursed plague has devoured 
him. He is dead, and I shall die too. No, no, 
I won t have the plague. I won t die. I have 
money. I will pay you well," shrieked out Abu 
in a frenzy as the first gray streaks of morning 
found their way into Fatimah s wretched room. 

" The doctor, the doctor, he will cure me ; he 
will save me. I will not die like a pariah dog," 
and Abu rose with a mighty effort from his mis 
erable divan, only to fall back more exhausted 
than before. 

But his delirious ravings had stirred Fatimah s 
brain to action, and she rose from her crouching 
attitude on the hard ground, thinking she would 
go for a doctor. She stepped out into the lonely 
morning street uncertain which way to go or 
whom to call in to see the rich man, lying, in 
spite of his abundant wealth, an outcast in her 
poor home. She walked aimlessly on, the entire 



2OO Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

length of the street, when in the dim distance she 
caught sight of a familiar figure, and hurrying her 
steps she soon overtook a man who proved to be 
a servant acting in the capacity of confidential 
factotum to Abdallah, the grain merchant. 

The street was deserted save for those two, 
and so Fatimah accosted the early pedestrian 
without fear of being seen talking to a man in 
public. In eager words she poured forth the 
story of Abu s unexpected arrival the night be 
fore, and of all the terror she had experienced 
through the hours of darkness as she listened to 
his terrible mutterings and ravings. 

The man showed no emotion at what he heard, 
but promised to tell his master, Abdallah, and 
seek his advice about obtaining the help of a 
doctor ; at the same time he advised her to return 
home, and not to tell any of the neighbours of 
the sick man s presence in her house. 

Osman s wife did return, and now that day 
light had come to chase away some of the phan 
toms of night, she set to work to prepare some 
coffee, thinking Abu might drink a little : but 
when she carried it to his side, she had another 
accession of fear as she noted his bloated face, 
and his glazed eyes. His mutterings had almost 
ceased, and he lay passive, as though too weak 
now to resist any longer the grim spectre of 
death with which he had fought all through the 
hours of night. 

It was drawing, .near the midday hour when 



Fatimah s Guest 201 

the sound of quick running wheels was heard in 
the streets, and a carriage drew up at Osman s 
humble dwelling. Another minute, and the 
stately white bearded old Abdallah crossed the 
lowly threshold. Closely following him came a 
bright faced young Englishman, who as soon as 
his eyes became accustomed to the gloom of the 
place, crossed quickly to where the sick man lay, 
glanced at him professionally, touched his pulse 
lightly, laid his hand on his heart, and then struck 
a match to take a closer look at the face which 
was quickly assuming a gray, ashy pallor visible 
even upon the Mohammedan s olive skin. Ap 
parently the doctor was satisfied, for he turned 
to the silent Abdallah, who had watched his pro 
ceedings with a keen eye, and said, " Sahib, I am 
sorry to say I am too late to save your friend ; a 
few minutes more, and he will be gone," and 
under his breath he whispered as though to him 
self, " May the Lord have mercy upon us. The 
first case of plague has appeared in our midst." 

The two men lingered, Abdallah in fear, and 
the doctor in pity for the man whose life was 
fast ebbing away ; but the lingering was of short 
duration, for in five minutes after their arrival, 
Abu Taleb, the prosperous, the exacting money 
lender of Ballapura had breathed his last within 
the friendly shelter of Osman s poor home. 
Abdallah turned to flee, as the truth forced it 
self upon him ; but the young doctor stretched 
forth a detaining hand, and said, " O Sahib, you 



2O2 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

have come into contact with the plague ; you 
must be thoroughly disinfected at once, and un 
dergo a medical examination every day for the 
next ten days. Do not leave this house until I 
return," and trusting to the venerable looking old 
man s honour, the doctor hurried off to give due 
notice of the strange merchant s arrival from 
Bombay, and his subsequent death from plague, 
for Abdallah had not revealed the identity of the 
dead man. 

, Now the municipality of Ballapura had long 
held itself in readiness for an invasion of the 
plague, and so it came to pass that in less than 
an hour from the reported death of Abu Taleb, 
a score of workers was in Osman s house, burn 
ing all it contained, disinfecting, cleansing and 
purifying the floors, walls, and ceiling to the best 
of their ability. 

The dead body of the supposed merchant was 
placed in a prepared grave, under the supervision 
of the doctor, a few native policemen, and two 
or three government officials who were there to 
see that all necessary precautions were taken. 

Poor old Fatimah was in an agony of distress 
at seeing the wholesale destruction of all her 
home contained, and she felt she could bear any 
indignity that was afterwards thrust upon her 
when she was taken away to be immured, a soli 
tary occupant of the segregation camp that had 
been prepared in readiness for just such an emer 
gency as had that day occurred in Ballapura. 



Fatimah s Guest 203 

The last glimpse that she ever caught of her 
old home was, as she lifted the hastily improvised 
purdah in front of the bullock cart that was con 
veying her away, a policeman in the act of put 
ting a large red cross with the letter " P " beneath 
it, right in the centre of the house-door. 

It had all happened so suddenly. The return 
of Abu ; his death and burial ; the destruction of 
all she held so dear, and now her own hurried 
departure to the plague camp, that she told her 
self over and over again it was all a horrible 
dream from which she would surely awaken. 

Abdallah was not to be trusted. The doctor 
had erred in leaving him for one moment alone ; 
for no sooner had the sound of his carriage 
wheels died away in the distance than Abdallah s 
mind was made up, and like his partner Abu, he 
determined to flee from the place of death. 

With all haste he hurried off home, secured 
some money and valuables, and without a word 
to any one hastened to the railway station, took 
the first outgoing train, and was soon being car 
ried far away from the scene of horror he had 
just witnessed. 




XIX 

SUNDARI S VENTURE 

UNDARI, Sundari," called Rokaia s sweet 
voice, " where are you ? It grows very 
rk, and I do not like being alone. 
Sundari, Sundari." 

" I am here, my jewel. O Rokaia, my sister, I 
will not leave thee. No, not for one moment. 
You have been kind to me. I will stay with 
thee," and she gently stroked the thin hand of 
the little Rokaia who seemed to grow weaker 
every day. 

" Sundari, my little one, how long is it since 
old Fatimah said she would bring the white 
Mem Sahib to see me, and other women ? " 

" Three days ; and Fatimah has not returned. 
All the women say she has never been away so 
long before." 

" That is true. Fatimah has come every day 
since I have lived here. I wonder why she does 
not return; surely she has fever, or she would 
certainly come." 

" She must be looking all this time for the 
white lady. You know she promised to bring 
her. I am sure she will come as soon as she 
204 



Sundari s Venture 205 

finds her, for Fatimah is good and kind, she 
loves you, my Rokaia, even as I do." 

" I wish, oh how I wish that she would come. 
I want to hear from her own lips all that she told 
you and the other people that day in Lingapura. 
Can t you remember the words she sang, little 
Sundari ? " 

" Alas ! no. I only heard them once." 

" Tell me over again, what you think she said ; 
while I listen to your voice it keeps me from be 
ing too tired. The God, who gives love, and 
peace and rest, must be very wonderful. I would 
that I knew more of Him." 

Sundari set herself right willingly to the task 
of pouring into Rokaia s attentive ears all that 
came to her of Hilda Roi s words spoken that 
last bright afternoon she had spent in her own 
village. Rokaia had heard them over and over 
again, but the mere repetition of the story 
soothed her and she lay with her large sunken 
eyes fixed upon the small face of the young nar 
rator with such intensity, that their glowing 
depths urged Sundari to draw upon her own 
imagination, and so add a few items that neither 
Hilda nor her companions had included in their 
afternoon s preaching. 

" Jesus Swami, who gives joy and peace to all 
women, and rest to the tired ones, lives some 
where close to the English Dhorasani. He is 
too great a God to go out of His beautiful tem 
ple, Mosque do you call it, O Rokaia. He is also 



206 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

too great to live in any of the images that our 
priests consecrate. He is so big that no car that 
was ever made in India could hold Him, and so 
even His worshippers cannot take Him out on 
festival days to get an airing. To be dragged 
through the streets on cars is good enough for 
the less important gods, but Jesus Swami-always 
stays at home, and that is the reason why those 
who want the rest, the joy and the peace, have 
to go to Him. I remember quite well that the 
Dhorasani sang, 

Come near to Jesus, and be at rest. 

You see, my Rokaia, if He were not so very 
great, we could make a little image, call it Jesus 
Swami, ask the priest to call the god into it, and 
then you could go near to it, and then and 

then " but Sundari faltered slightly, for she 

was not sure of the next idea she was about to 
propound, " and then you would go near enough 
to touch the image with your hands, or perhaps 
hold it, like you are holding my hands, and you 
would be quite well, the tired feeling would go, 
and you would be bright and happy like the 
singing birds in the lime trees at Lingapura." 

Sundari had made a supreme effort with her 
inventive genius, for the sake of the companion, 
rather than the mistress whose patience and 
gentleness had won all the wealth of love her 
untamed heart was capable of. She only paused 
to draw a deep breath of satisfaction, before 



Sundari s Venture 207 

setting forth a few more vague ideas, when 
Rokaia interrupted her. " Oh, Sundari, my beau 
tiful one. Images and idols are worth nothing. 
You should not talk of them as if they were 
really gods. God who is the Great and Eternal 
Spirit never condescended to take up His abode 
in a clay or wooden image. There is no God, 
but God, and Mahomet is His prophet. So I 
have often heard my father say when I lived hap 
pily in Madras." 

" Well," continued Sundari, nothing daunted 
at Rokaia s attempt to correct her heathen ideas, 
" well, I said Jesus Swami is too big, and great to 
live inside an idol, and so could not be brought 
to you, and it is certain you cannot go to Him, for 
you are ill and weak ; and even if you were strong 
like I am, you could not go, because you must not 
break your caste by going into the streets." 

" Tell me, O Rokaia, have you never been out, 
and seen the bazzar, and the trees, the big rocks, 
and the shining river ? " 

" No, no, Sundari, such sights are not for 
women like me. I don t know what a river is. 
I never heard of one until you came here and 
told me of the one near your home. When you 
talk about the shining river and the bed of 
stones, I do not understand. But do not talk of 
me. Let us think how I can get to Jesus 
Swami," and the entreaty in her voice caused 
Sundari to pucker up her little brow in thought 
ful contemplation. 



208 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

" If the lady only knew how much you wanted 
to come to Jesus, and be at rest, she might tell 
Him about you, and perhaps as He loves every 
body, He might come to you, as you cannot go 
to Him," she ventured at length. 

" Yes, something tells me that He would come, 
if He only knew how much I wanted to see 
Him. Sundari, I think I shall die soon, and I 
would like to see this friend of the English 
lady s, before Azrail snatches me away." 

While she spoke, Sundari received an inspira 
tion which betrayed itself in the quick with 
drawal of her hands from Rokaia s caressing 
fingers, and the new decision of her voice as she 
said, " O Rokaia, I will go out, I will find Fati- 
mah, and she shall take me to the English lady. 
I will tell her all about you, and her white heart 
will be filled with pity when she hears you are 
sick, and longing for rest, and just one look into 
the face of her Jesus before you die." 

Rokaia was startled, and raised herself on her 
elbow to look searchingly into the face of her 
child companion. What she saw there, calmed her 
own fears, for her heart had bumped and throbbed 
at the immensity of the proposal, for her knowl 
edge of the manners and customs of Moham 
medan women made her shrink from the thought 
of allowing even the little slave girl to expose 
herself to the awful temptations that lay waiting 
beautiful and unguarded females in the wicked 
atmosphere of the open bazaars. 



Sundari s Venture 209 

Alas ! Poor little Gosha wife ! She only 
knew what her own mother, herself a veiled lady 
had taught her in the privacy of her own home. 

But Sundari s mind was made up, and lest 
Rokaia should seek to turn her from her purpose, 
she set her mouth firmly, stopped talking, and 
began to sing instead a weird cradle song with 
which the village mothers of Lingapura often 
used to send their babies off to sleep. She sang 
softly, and to such a good purpose, that soon 
Rokaia s heavy lids dropped over her luminous 
eyes, and the tired girl slept more soundly than 
she had done for days. This was the opportu 
nity Sundari sought, and she moved quietly away 
from the lounge where Rokaia lay, and peeped 
cautiously round to see how the other women 
were engaged. Satisfied on this point that none 
of them would see her she quickly divested her 
self of her petticoat and jacket, and in place of 
them she wound a dirty white outer covering 
around her, in the simple village style she was 
accustomed to. She pulled one end of the im 
provised sari over her black rippling hair, and 
with a last half frightened look at the sleeping 
Rokaia, made her way stealthily out of the 
woman s apartments thinking to slip out the way 
Fatimah had brought her in more than three 
weeks earlier ; but she must have taken a wrong 
passage, for she found herself in quite an un 
known part of the house. She glanced anx 
iously round to find some means of exit ; for she 



2lo Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

was afraid to return the way she had come lest 
she should meet som of the women. As she 
stood for one second undecided as to which way 
to turn, a door hidden by a curtain opened, and 
a man, whom in the half light she thought to be 
Osman, the Mussulman, crossed the room, leav 
ing the door ajar behind him, and letting in a 
stream of daylight, beneath the curtain. It was 
the work of a moment to dart through the open 
door which led into the outer office of Abu 
Taleb s business establishment, rush past a clerk 
half dozing at his post, and thus get into the 
busy bazaar where her flying feet soon carried 
her beyond the reach of any pursuers who might 
take the trouble to find out who she was, and 
what she was doing. But there was no fear of 
this, for the man who had opened the door of 
liberty for the child, was too astonished at the 
rapidity of her action to move for a few seconds, 
And when he did recover himself sufficiently to 
go and ask the sleepy clerk in the office if he 
had seen a little beggar maid rush past him into 
the street, he only received the angry reply from 
the newly aroused sleeper, that the holy prophet 
must have favoured him with a supernatural 
vision. 



XX 

FREEDOM 

SUNDARI experienced a delightfully thrill 
ing sensation surging through and through 
her, when she paused in the midst of a 
crowd of her own country people, to draw 
breath, and to recover herself a little after the al 
together unexpected dash she had made for 
liberty. 

To breathe the outer air even of the stifling 
bazaar was like a waft from her own village. 

The heated and perfumed air of the harem 
had oppressed her terribly, without her really 
knowing what she longed for. Three weeks of 
confinement, shut out from the sight of the blue 
sky above her, and the brilliant sunshine around 
her, had robbed her of some of her sprightli- 
ness ; but once in the open air again, her free 
dom of limb came back. The new sights and 
sounds on every side put fresh life into her, and 
she felt, she could even defy Osman, the 
Mussulman, should she be so unfortunate as to 
meet him. 

Not a qualm of fear touched the village child, 
who all her short life had been accustomed to 
roam the village streets at will, and when she 
211 



212 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

saw other girls her own age, standing at the 
bazaars, bargaining with the vendors or dodging 
in and out amongst the indifferent masses that 
crowded the narrow thoroughfares, she felt re 
newed confidence in her own powers to find old 
Fatimah s house. 

As soon as she knew herself to be some dis 
tance from Abu s house, and safe from pursuit, she 
slackened her pace, and went along more com 
fortably, with an assured air of knowing her own 
business, and so no one interfered with her. She 
had made good use of her eyes when Fatimah 
had conducted her to her new home, and so she 
began to note one sign after another as guides to 
the Mohammedan street she was seeking. 

She passed slowly through the grain bazaar 
which was packed with such a dense mob of 
men that she had great difficulty in threading 
her way between them. Every now and again, 
she heard stray remarks about the forthcoming 
Dipavali festival ; the high price of grain, and 
the starving condition of the people. But she 
pressed on giving no attention to what others 
seemed so absorbed in. The Dipavali did not 
interest her, and she wanted to reach Fatimah s 
house. 

Through Cloth Bazaar, along Flower Street, 
on she went, and then her child s heart suc 
cumbed to the temptation of lingering awhile 
in Bangle row. 

" Oh, the lovely bangles ! " she exclaimed in 



Freedom 213 

an ecstasy of delight, while her eyes assumed 
for the moment, something of the old star-like 
look that had so entranced Osman. What a 
bewildering array it was : Glass bangles of every 
conceivable colour. Blue, green, pink, of all 
shades, plain and variegated. Wax, adorned 
with gold and silver paper. Cheap bangles, and 
expensive bangles. There they were, displayed 
to full advantage in attractive and glittering pro 
fusion. Such a wealth of bangles had never be 
fore greeted Sundari s eyes. 

Fortunate women and girls sat, enduring the 
most exquisite tortures, in having the gay 
baubles passed over their hands that were far 
too large for the tiny circlet they would persist 
in choosing to adorn their smooth brown arms. 
But Hindu hands proved pliable as a bit of putty 
under the skillful manipulation of the expert 
bangle-man ; and Sundari joined with childish 
abandon in the satisfaction of the tortured ones 
when an extra small bangle was coaxed over 
an extra plump hand, and rested as a tight 
fitting band on the wrist. All at once her 
pleasure departed, for she was roused from her 
admiration of the bangles by the rumble of ap 
proaching cart-wheels, and turning round quickly, 
she saw to her dismay the mission cart that had 
been to Lingapura, and inside it the face of the 
lady she was looking for. 

She followed her first impulse, and began to 
run after the fast vanishing cart, but her attempt 



214 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

was useless, for " Billy " the pony was on his best 
behaviour, and it was all the horse-keeper could 
do, to keep from running over some of the peo 
ple in the street. By constant screaming, shout 
ing and lashing out with his whip he did keep 
the course clear, and thus left the pursuing 
Sundari far behind. In her attempt to overtake 
the cart, she had missed her sign post of the big 
temple covered with thousands of small idols, 
that was only two streets away from the Mo 
hammedan part of the Pettah. 

There was no help for her, but to go back to 
Bangle Bazaar, and make a new start, and back 
she went with all the resolution of her de 
termined little character. 

To her delight after a very long walk, she 
found the temple, and then with renewed energy, 
her feet were soon treading the way that led 
directly to Fatimah s door. Her errand was 
nearly completed, and it was with a sense of 
pleasure she anticipated seeing Fatimah s friendly 
old face. 

Another half dozen steps, and her willing 
little feet came to a standstill, and she was 
gazing with perturbed eyes at the closed up 
house with the big red cross daubed on the 
door. 

What did it mean ? Had she after all made a 
mistake? Was this the wrong street? She 
looked round and round. Every door stood 
open except the one she wanted to go in at, and 



Freedom 215 

that was fast closed. She looked up the street, 
and down the street with eyes that became 
dimmed and blurred however much she blinked 
them. 

Her inspiration no longer upheld her ; her en 
durance had come to an end ; the English lady 
and her Jesus had eluded her. The reflection 
proved too much for her, and she sank weeping 
bitterly upon the deserted pial of the plague 
stricken house. 

The great heat of midday was long since past, 
and Sundari had not lain crying very long before 
the women of the neighbouring houses began to 
move about in preparation for their evening 
meal. 

One and another passed by the sobbing child, 
but took no notice except to warn her to move 
away from where she was lying as the house had 
been visited by plague. "What was plague?" 
she wondered. Perhaps a new kind of devil that 
lived only in Ballapura. With this idea, she sat 
up, and sought to stop the flow of tears, and to 
ask the woman who had spoken to her, if she 
knew aught of Fatimah, the wife of Osman. 

The .question was only needed to draw out 
from the poor woman all the indignation pent 
up within her because of the summary fashion 
in which the government officials had acted 
with regard to Osman s house and property. 
She together with the rest of the inhabitants of 
the street lived in hourly terror of being carried 



216 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

away like their old neighbour Fatimah to the 
dreaded segregation camp. 

Gradually many women and children grouped 
themselves around Sundari, glad to find another 
attentive ear to the recital of their wrongs and 
their fears, for every house in the street had been 
visited by the police, and an army of workers 
with their dreadful disinfectants. 

The child listened in benumbed wonder to the 
story of the arrival of the sick stranger at Fa 
timah s house ; of his death and hurried burial ; 
of his assertion that Osman the Mussulman had 
died of plague in Bombay, and of the burning 
and disinfecting process carried on under the 
very eye of the English doctor. When the 
women directed her to look up at the closely- 
barred door with its flaming red cross upon it, 
as a proof of all they said, she turned shudder- 
ingly to obey them ; but soon dropped her eyes 
from the sight, and wailed out in utter despair, 
" Oh Rokaia ! My beautiful Rokaia ! Fatimah 
has gone, and who will bring Jesus to you now ? " 

As far as the Mohammedan women were con 
cerned her words were quite unheeded, for they 
were too absorbed in their own troubles to en 
quire any further into the miserable condition of 
the little Hindu girl who was not even of their 
own faith. While Sundari moaned over Ro- 
kaia s disappointment when she would return 
only to say she had failed in her mission, the at 
tention of the Moslem women around her was 



Freedom 2 1 7 

diverted into another channel, for the word had 
gone round that the English doctor with two 
policemen had appeared for his afternoon s in 
spection of the houses. The women drew their 
veils a little closer, and disappeared like passing 
shadows, within the shelter of their homes, leav 
ing Sundari the sole occupant of the pial in front 
of the marked house. The young doctor, with 
his firm military tread approached where she lay, 
and stopped abruptly in his surprise, at seeing 
the Hindu child lying in her grief upon such a 
dangerous spot. 

For the first time since leaving Lingapura, 
Sundari heard the soft tones of her beloved 
Kanarese, as he said in foreign accents, 

" My little one, you must not lie there. Come, 
get up, and let me feel your pulse," and he smiled 
to reassure her even though he felt anxious lest 
she had inadvertently run into danger. 

Sundari obeyed him, and stood quite passively, 
as he looked at her tongue, and felt her pulse, 
and told her she was all right for the present, but 
that she had better not venture into such a dan 
gerous place again. 

" What is your name, and where do you live ? " 
he asked her kindly. " I will come and see you 
to-morrow to make sure you are still well. You 
see I am a doctor, and I should not like a bright 
little maiden like you to take the plague." 

" I am Sundari, the daughter of Lingappa the 
carpenter." 



218 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

" And where does Lingappa the carpenter 
live, my little one ? " 

" Our village is called Lingapura." 

" Lingapura ; where is that ? I never heard 
of it before." 

" Lingapura is near a river that flows with 
much water in the Monsoon season, but now it 
is dried up and there are only a few water-holes 
to be found." The directions were too vague for 
the doctor, and so he put another question. 

" Why are you so far away from Lingapura, 
and your father, the carpenter ? " . 

He looked so kind, and the way he used the 
soft, sweet Kanarese words made her think of the 
white lady whom she was seeking, and she burst 
out in her own impetuous little way, 

" O white man, I have come to find Jesus to 
take Him to my little Rokaia. She is ill, and 
may not come out. She cannot come to Him to 
find rest and peace, and I am looking for some 
one who will tell Jesus about my Rokaia." 

"Ah, my little one, Jesus is my friend. I 
can help you. Will you be afraid to come with 
me?" 

" Will you take me to Jesus ? Do you think 
He will go to Rokaia when He hears about 
her?" 

For a moment, the young man stood abashed 
before the sweet pleading eyes, and the tender 
little dark face of the Hindu child, as like a 
lightning flash there passed through his mind a 



Freedom 219 

review of his life since he had landed in India, 
and how his ability to lead others to Jesus had 
rather decreased than increased. His confession 
that Jesus was his friend had been made more 
falteringly than Sundari suspected, for he half 
wondered if he had any right to call Him by 
such a sweet name after neglecting Him so 
much. 

" I can take you to a lady who will, I am sure, 
go to see your Rokaia. Will you come with 
me ? " was his answer. 

" Yes, yes, I will come." 

He bade her follow him to a carriage that was 
waiting at the entrance of the street, and told 
her to sit in it until his return. 

In reality she waited an hour, but it seemed 
only a few minutes, so intensely glad was she that 
she was within measurable distance of fulfilling 
her promise to Rokaia. 

The doctor s houses were good ones, and his 
carriage bowled pleasantly along for two or three 
miles through the bazaars and then out on a 
country road, until a large rambling old building 
was reached and the horses turned into the drive 
that led to the Mission House. 

For the second time in her life, Sundari 
fancied she must have changed places with some 
one else, for as the horses came to a standstill, 
the very English lady of all her desires emerged 
from the shady veranda, and she witnessed the 
most curious greeting imaginable. She laughed 



22o Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

quietly behind her drawn sari, as the grotesque- 
ness of the whole proceeding struck her keen 
imagination. 

The doctor lifted his hat from his head, and 
then held out his hand which the lady took in 
one of hers, and they both smiled as the gentle 
man began to talk in an unknown tongue. If 
Sundari could have understood what was being 
said, she would have heard, " Good-afternoon, 
Miss Roi, I am glad to find you in. I have 
brought you a visitor who will explain her own 
errand better than I can. I found her in the 
street where the plague broke out, three or four 
days ago. But I don t think you need be afraid. 
She seems a very healthy little specimen." 

A few words from Miss Roi, in the same unin 
telligible style, and the doctor once more raised 
his hat, turned and made a parting salaam to 
Sundari, jumped into his carriage and was gone. 



XXI 

A SONG AT MIDNIGHT 

HILDA ROI did not recognize the little 
girl who had been so suddenly intro 
duced to her by the young military 
doctor of whom she had but a passing knowledge, 
and so, as he drove away, she turned to Sundari 
who stood motionless taking in every detail of 
the strange place in which she found herself, and 
said, " I am very glad to see you, my little one. 
You must tell me who you are, and why you 
have come here." 

Sundari s heart glowed within her at the kind 
words, but her mouth seemed dumb, and strive as 
she would, she could not force herself to speak. 

She had been exceedingly brave in the thought 
of seeking out the only one who could help 
Rokaia. She had dared much in escaping from 
the harem, and wandering through the streets of 
an unknown town ; but all her bravery had 
centred in the finding of Fatimah, who was to be 
the connecting link between herself, Rokaia, and 
the English lady. The contingency of having to 
make her purpose known to the Dhorasani her 
self had never once entered into her plans, and 
now that Hilda s kindly brown eyes were looking 

221 



222 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

down upon her, and the never to be forgotten 
foreign accent of her Kanarese sounded in her 
ears, a strange perverse shyness overcame her, 
and she was mute from sheer nervousness. She 
drew her sari well up over her head and looked 
upon the ground, while she fidgetted about in 
the most approved style of Hindu maidenly de 
corum until Hilda knew it was hopeless to expect 
an answer, and so she made another attempt to 
win her confidence by saying, " Come with me, 
and you shall see my girls ; some of them are as 
small as you are," and she moved off in the direc 
tion of the girls home. If Sundari could not 
find the use of her tongue, her feet proved more 
amenable to her will power, and Hilda smiled 
happily as she heard behind her the patter of 
bare feet upon the concrete floor of the verandah. 
It was only a few steps across the compound to 
the home, and soon another unusual sight greeted 
Sundari s eyes. 

Girls of all ages were in the school com 
pound. Some were busy preparing the evening 
meal : others were in groups learning their les 
sons for the next day, and a few were gathered 
round the most astonishing piece of mechanism 
that the world had ever produced. Sundari de 
scribed it afterwards to Rokaia, as two thick 
poles of bamboo with rope hanging from the 
top till it nearly reached the ground. In a way 
she could not detect, a girl was fastened to the 
rope, and was being tossed up and down into the 



A Song at Midnight 223 

air by a bigger girl, while all the others laughed 
with delight, and clamoured loudly to be the 
next one to be sent up and down. 

Miss Roi s appearance was the signal for all 
the girls to greet her. Those who were sitting 
rose to their feet ; others put down their water 
pots, and the group around the swing dispersed, 
while " Salaam Amma, Salaam Missyamma," was 
heard from one and all. 

" Salaam, Salaam," returned Hilda touching 
her forehead with her right hand. " I have 
brought this little girl to see you. Give her 
some supper, and try to make her happy for a 
few hours. Where is Nilamma ? " 

" Nilamma is in the matron s room, mending 
some clothes," answered two or three voices at 
once. 

" Thank you. I want to speak to her. Krupai 
and Ratna, take charge of my little friend," and 
Hilda went in search of Nilamma, leaving Sun- 
dari to make herself at home amongst the school 
children. 

But Sundari had not accomplished her purpose. 
It was the white woman she wanted, and not 
this crowd of children so like her own village 
companions except for their look of cleanliness, 
and happy content. 

She made an attempt to run after Miss Roi, 
and gasp out her request that she would go at 
once and see Rokaia, but an interruption came 
from one of the girls. 



224 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

" Little sister, would you like a swing ? " asked 
the bright faced Ratna, and she drew the reluc 
tant Sundari towards the mysterious upright 
bamboo rods. 

Meanwhile Hilda had found Nilamma, one of 
her elder girls in whom she reposed much con 
fidence because of her bright helpful ways, and 
her happy consistent Christian life. 

To her she told the circumstances of the 
strange child s arrival, and finished by say 
ing, 

" Dear Nilamma, if any one can overcome her 
shyness, I am sure you can. Try and find out 
her object in coming here, this afternoon, and 
then you can tell me, and we will see how we 
can help her." 

Nilamma laid her sewing on one side, and 
joined the children round the swing where Sun- 
dari s curly head, and bright eyes soon attracted 
her. 

With gentle persuasion she drew her aside, 
and began showing her first one thing, and then 
another, interesting her in the preparations for 
supper, in the water carrying from the deep well, 
and in the various tasks that the girls were busily 
performing. 

" I can carry water," were the first words Sun- 
dari s loosened tongue uttered as she watched six 
or seven girls coming up the seventy steps lead 
ing from the well. 

" If you stay with us, we will let you carry 



A Song at Midnight 225 

some every day," replied Nilamma, glad that the 
silence between them was broken. 

" Oh, but I can t stay. I must go back to my 
Rokaia. She will be awake long ago, and want 
ing me to get her evening meal ready. I must go 
now, at once. Nilamma, Nilamma, take me 
back," and she looked appealingly into the elder 
girl s kind face. 

" You must have some supper first, and then I 
will go and tell our Missyamma what you say. I 
am sure she will send you back if you only tell 
her where you live. 

" Look at that pretty bungalow with all the 
green leaves growing over it. Burton Dhorai 
lives there. But he is out in the country now, 
telling the village people all about the true God, 
and Jesus Christ, His only son," said Nilamma, 
hoping to divert the child s attention. The 
chords of love for Rokaia were set in motion 
again by the one -word Jesus in Nilamma s long 
speech, and Sundari almost gasped out, " Jesus : 
where does Jesus live ? My Rokaia wants to see 
Jesus and I am looking for some one to take 
Him to her." 

Once more the name of Jesus had proved 
potent to charm away fear, and all shyness, and 
thus it came to pass that long before supper was 
ready Nilamma was in possession of all Sundari s 
history from the day of Hilda Roi s first visit to 
Lingapura. The Christian girl s eyes filled with 
tears at the thought of the little Mohammedan 



226 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

wife s longing to see and know for herself Jesus, 
the friend of women, and she could hardly re 
strain her impatience to rush straight away and 
beg Miss Roi to go without delay wherever Sun- 
dari might lead her. 

" Little Sundari, will you come with me and 
tell our Missyamma everything ? I am sure she 
will go and see your Rokaia. She will tell her 
all about our Lord Jesus, and perhaps she can 
give her medicine that will help her to grow well 
and strong again," said Nilamma. 

" But Rokaia does not want to get well. She 
wants rest and peace. She wants to see Jesus 
before she dies, and ask Him to let her live in 
His beautiful home in Kailasa." 

Hilda had been very busy all day, and when 
she returned from her visit to the school, she lay 
down in her long basket chair, and gave herself 
up to the luxury of half an hour s relaxation. 

She was conscious of plenty that awaited her 
attention; but she left all, and revelled in the 
bliss of inaction as far as it could be inaction 
when her brain would run riot over ways, and 
means ; work and workers. Her half hour 
passed, and she rose, thinking to get a book and 
read until dinner time : she was standing in front 
of her bookcase wondering which book would 
be the most efficacious in chasing away the 
thoughts of mission work and its attendant cir 
cumstances when through the window she espied 
Nilamma coming towards the bungalow ; and 



A Song at Midnight 227 

wonder of wonders, she was actually leading the 
little stranger by the hand. 

Hilda left the bookcase, saying, " Something 
tells me Nilamma s story will be far more inter 
esting than any book I have here," walked back 
to the verandah in time to receive the two 
children. 

Nilamma s face was radiant with success, and 
Sundari s dark eyes sparkled like diamonds in 
motion in anticipation of the result of the news 
Nilamma was to communicate. 

With the pretty demureness that Hilda loved 
to see, Nilamma unfolded her story with Sun 
dari s hand clasped confidingly in hers all the 
time, and so interested did the child become, 
that her shyness of the English lady vanished, 
and she joined in Nilamma s pleading that at 
once they might all start out, find Rokaia, and 
relieve her of all anxiety concerning Sundari, 
and at the same time tell her of Him whom she 
greatly desired to see and know. 

Hilda s heart throbbed in unison with those of 
the children, and so it needed no coaxing on 
their part for her to decide to start off as soon as 
the horse and the jutka could be got ready. 

Meanwhile she sent Nilamma and Sundari 
back to school to have some supper, while she 
herself asked the cook to bring her at once 
whatever dinner was ready. 

Soon the happy Sundari was seated in the 
mission jutka beside the English missionary, and 



228 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

Hilda only diverted her course to the house of 
Abu Taleb, by driving to the mission compound 
to ask Ruth, the Bible woman, to accompany 
her on her errand of love. 

The streets looked very different to the be 
wildered child, from what they did in the broad 
sunshine of midday, and so it was well that 
Ruth, and the driver of the jutka knew their 
way to the house of the wealthy sowcar, for Sun- 
dari was too puzzled to be able to act as guide 
herself. 

Through Bangle Bazaar, and down Flower 
Street deserted in the darkness, Billy sped in 
good earnest, but when he reached the Vege 
table Market, he refused to stir another step. 
The driver coaxed him, whipped him, and coaxed 
him again, but all to no purpose. He either 
stood quite still, or backed into the pials of the 
houses with such determination of purpose that 
Hilda had no alternative, but to alight, and go 
the rest of the way on foot. 

The streets were narrow and dark, and al 
though the inside of the harem had grown so 
familiar to Sundari, she could not recognize the 
outside, but Ruth thought they must have ar 
rived at the right place, and she suggested that 
Sundari should go on a voyage of discovery, and 
if it were the house they sought, prepare the 
ladies for their arrival. 

" You must come too, I told Rokaia I would 
bring you," said Sundari as she felt more as- 



A Song at Midnight 229 

sured of her position after getting accustomed to 
the house in the darkness, and she led Hilda and 
Ruthamma on through the passages and rooms, 
until the faint glimmer of lights, and the sound 
of voices proclaimed the nearness of the 
women s apartments. 

The unwearied feet of Sundari tripped lightly 
on, until she raised a heavy purdah, behind which 
an unusually bright lamp was burning, revealing 
the recumbent figure of a girl on a more com 
fortable lounge than Hilda had ever seen in a 
native house. 

" Rokaia, Rokaia," burst out Sundari in glad 
accents. " The English lady has come. I have 
brought her to you." It was Hilda s first intro 
duction into a Mohammedan home, and natural 
curiosity would have prompted her to look round, 
and get some idea of the surroundings of the 
shut-in women of whom she had heard much. 
She had formed her opinions of Moslem women 
by those of the lower orders that she had seen 
walking through the bazaars, but this pale, re 
fined, exquisitely dressed young girl was a being 
of quite another sort, and instinctively she low 
ered her voice, and shut out every thought of 
the strangeness of her own position, as she knelt 
on the floor beside the divan, and said, " My little 
sister, are you ill ? What can I do for you ? " 

" I don t know whether I am ill. I am tired, 
always tired. Are you the white lady who 
knows about Jesus ? " 



230 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

" Yes, I know Jesus. He is my friend, my 
Saviour, and my King. Would you like to know 
Him too ? " 

" Yes, yes, Mem Sahib. Tell me all you told 
the people in Lingapura. My Sundari has told 
me all that she remembers, but it does not all 
come back to her." And she turned her eyes 
melting with love upon the little slave girl who 
sat stroking her pale brown hand. 

Hilda too, looked at the little captive maid, 
and her heart went out in tenderness towards 
her, as she recognized in her God s messenger to 
one of the daughters of darkened India. 

And so Hilda began, and told out once again, 
but for the first time in that Mohammedan harem, 
the story of the Saviour s redeeming love, and 
as the tones of her voice penetrated other rooms, 
the heavy purdah was again and again drawn 
on one side to admit silent and wondering women 
who slipped into the room, and curled them 
selves up in comfortable attitudes as they settled 
themselves down to listen for as long as Hilda 
liked to talk. 

Rokaia fixed her luminous eyes on the face of 
the missionary, and gazed at her with an en 
tranced expression, but not a word did she utter, 
until Hilda paused at the end of almost an hour s 
description of how God desired all should come 
to Him through the merits of Jesus Christ His 
well-beloved Son. 

" Are you quite sure He wants^Moslem women 



A Song at Midnight 231 

as well as white women like you ? " at length she 
asked. 

" Yes, I am perfectly sure He wants Moslem 
women, Hindu women, and white women too, 
because one part of His Holy Word says, Who 
soever will, may come, and take of the water of 
life freely, and so you, and every one else must 
be included in that invitation," was Hilda s un 
hesitating reply ; " but my little one are you not 
very tired ? I will come again at a more con 
venient time, and seek your husband s permission 
to instruct you regularly." 

" Yes, yes, come again," was the echo of many 
voices. " Must you go now ? You sang to the 
people at Lingapura, and played some wonderful 
music," came in timid accents from one of the 
women. 

Hilda detected the desire of the woman in her 
faltering words, and said, " I will sing to you if 
you would like me to." 

" Yes, yes," they cried, clapping their hands in 
childish glee. " Sing the words Sundari could 
not remember, about coming to Jesus," and they 
all looked at the child to help them out. 

Sundari was at home, and holding the hand 
of her beloved Rokaia who trembled with delight 
in anticipation of the singing, she quickly ex 
plained what it was they all wanted to hear. 

Hilda remembered quite well what she had 
sung in Lingapura, and soon in the darkened 
room, for the lamp had burnt low, the sweet 



232 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

words of invitation to tired, and weary ones 
floated out on the heavy midnight air. 

" Art thou weary, art thou languid, 

Art thou sore distressed ? 
Come to me, saith One, and coming 
Be at rest." 

As the singer finished, Rokaia drew a breath 
of deepest satisfaction, and said, " It is all very 
beautiful. I wish some one had told me years 
ago, when I could have understood it better than 
I do now. I don t think I feel quite so tired, 
dear Mem Sahib. Please come again soon." 

Many were the farewell salaams given to Hilda 
and Ruthamma, as they left the harem, and 
stepped into the deserted streets of Ballapura. 

It was early morning ere the mission house 
was reached, and the first day of the Dipavali 
festival had dawned. 



XXII 

THE DIPAVALI 

THE first day of the celebration of the 
feast of lamps had dawned, and the in 
habitants of Ballapura were all in a state 
of great activity with all the preparations attend 
ant upon the forthcoming Dipavali. 

Mr. Burton had returned safely from his trip 
into the district, and was busy organizing his 
force of catechists and evangelists so as to reach 
many of the thousands who would flock into 
Ballapura, during the five days set apart for cele 
brating Vishnu s victory over Narakasur, the 
giant, and for propitiating Lakshmi, the goddess 
of prosperity. 

Their work would be in the open streets, and 
in the bazaars where Mr. Burton hoped to have 
preaching carried on from early morning until 
the darkness of night set in. 

His arrangements were completed at last, and 
the important day to which he and thousands of 
people in Southern India had looked forward, 
broke with an unusual sultriness, with not a pass 
ing cloud to dim the sun s rays, or mar the bril 
liancy of the azure sky. 

Mr. Burton, and two of his catechists started 
233 



234 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

out about seven o clock to be in good time at 
the first preaching station, and as he passed Miss 
Roi s house, he paused to say good-morning, 
and to tell her his plans for the day. 

" I suppose you will not be visiting in the 
Hindu houses," he said. 

" No, the Bible women say it is almost useless 
to attempt to gain a hearing from the women 
this week. When you are not so hurried I want 
to tell you of a visit I paid last night to a Mo 
hammedan house. Ruthamma has brought me 
an invitation from one of her pupils, to go to her 
house, and see the preparations for the festival. 
Would it be an influence for good or evil if I 
went ? " 

" I think I would advise you to go. It is good 
to show an interest in these people apart from 
our set purpose in going to see them. There is 
nothing like actual experience of the ways, and 
customs of our Hindu friends whom we are seek 
ing to bring to the knowledge of our Saviour, 
for bringing us into sympathetic touch with 
them. Yes, I should go by all means. An in 
telligent knowledge of the beliefs of those who 
indulge in the practices of the Dipavali, and 
other festivals may be very useful to you in after 
days." 

" Thank you so much. If you think thus 
about it I will certainly go : but my own thought 
was whether my presence might not seem like 
countenancing their absurd beliefs." 



The Dipavali 235 

" Not at all. Going once to gain information 
and experience for the purpose of coming into 
more sympathetic relations with the women, is 
quite different from frequenting the festivals for 
your own amusement. Why do you wear those 
bangles ? Surely they are new ornaments for 
you." 

Hilda smiled, as she glanced at the Hindu 
bangles on her wrists and replied, 

" Oh, the bangles are not ornaments ; they are 
a link between me and the native women and 
girls. The very sight of them proves to them I 
am both human and feminine even as they are. 
Once I heard a man remark to his neighbour 
about me, Oh yes, it is all right. She must be 
a woman for she wears bangles like our women ; 
and I have always had the feeling that on that 
afternoon my bangles secured me an attentive 
audience." 

" Well, I do not think you need have any more 
scruples over visiting at the house of the one who 
has sent for you to see her preparations for the 
festival, than you have in wearing your bangles. 
But I would advise you to return home early, 
before the people get too riotous. I have an 
uneasy presentiment that all is not well in Balla- 
pura just at present. I did not like the sullen 
faces of hundreds of villagers whom I saw loiter 
ing about the streets yesterday. They looked 
altogether different from the crowds who have 
flocked in from a love of pure pleasure. But I 



236 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

must go. Good-bye," and Mr. Burton departed 
with a vigorous step that betokened him in good 
spirits for the coming campaign. 

At three o clock in the afternoon, Hilda or 
dered her jutka, and drove out with Ruth and 
Mary to accept the invitation of Devadasi to visit 
her on this first day of the Dipavali. 

The streets were thronged with eager, excited 
people of all ages and castes, and Ramappa the 
driver had much ado to clear a way for Billy and 
the jutka. Finally, he had to descend from his 
perch in front of the cart, and lead the horse 
through the narrow passage he cleared by dint 
of much shouting and gesticulating, and cracking 
of a ferocious looking whip in dangerous prox 
imity to bare backs and exposed dark limbs. 

The slow progress of the cart gave the occu 
pants an opportunity for conversation, and Hilda 
opened it by saying, " Ruthamma, who is Devad 
asi?" 

" You have never seen her, Missyamma, al 
though she lives in a, house where we often visit. 
Do you remember a house at the corner of the 
Cloth Bazaar where a woman and her two daugh 
ters-in-law live ? " 

" Yes, it is a very clean little place, and we are 
always invited to sit in a little front apartment 
opening on to the road." 

" Yes, yes, that is the place. How well Missy 
amma remembers. Well Devadasi lives there." 

" Why have I never seen her before ? Who is 



The Dipavali 



2 37 



she ? " Hilda saw hesitation plainly stamped on 
Ruth s face, and so she turned enquiring eyes on 
Mary who in her turn admonished Ruth to tell 
the Missyamma all about Devadasi. 

" Dear Missyamma," she began, " you must 
not be grieved or troubled. I did not like to tell 
you, because you are always so sorry for the 
women of our land. Devadasi is young and 
beautiful now. She is even happy in the life she 
leads. In her babyhood, she was dedicated by 
her parents to the infamous temple service that 
Missy knows is practiced in our land. She is 
called the wife of the demon who is supposed to 
live in that big tree at the crossroads near the 
railway station, and has lived all her life in 
the temple dedicated to his service; there she 
has learned to dance and to sing. Now she is 
an inmate of the house we are going to. When 
the Brahmin who has hired her, gets tired of her, 
or when her beauty and accomplishments no 
longer delight him, he will cast her adrift, when 
she will return to the temple, and if the priests 
think she is not likely to prove a source of good 
income to them, she will probably sink lower 
and lower in the life which is hers, because of 
the ignorance and superstition of her parents in 
vowing her to the temple service." 

It was enough. Hilda asked no more ques 
tions during the rest of the drive, for Ruth had 
given her plenty upon which to meditate. 

When they arrived at their destination, the 



238 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

three women whom they usually saw were wait 
ing for them in the little front chamber which 
had been newly cleaned, whitewashed, and deco 
rated for the festival. Hilda admired the fresh 
cleanness of the room, greatly to the pleasure of 
the women, who told her every house in Balla- 
pura had been similarly cleaned, and then they 
drew her attention to a large quadrangular mark 
ing in various coloured powders, in front of the 
house. 

While they were looking at this, Hilda s at 
tention was attracted by a jingle of anklets, and 
a heavy perfume stealing over the atmosphere. 
She turned around, to find herself confronted by 
a Hindu woman of seventeen or eighteen, whose 
natural loveliness of form and feature was en 
hanced by powder, and paint, jewels, flowers, 
and silken garments. 

Devadasi had spent time, ability and money 
upon herself, so that she might create a great 
amount of admiration in the mind of the foreign 
lady whom she had heard much of from the other 
women of the house. 

Her heavy golden-coloured silken sari, with 
its wondrously broad border of crimson and 
white woven in an ingenious Eastern pattern, 
was confined round her waist by a gold dhabu l 
from which scores of little golden bells were sus 
pended. Her smooth round arms, her face and 
neck, had been polished with saffron until they 
1 Belt. 



The Dipavali 239 

were the colour of yellow primroses. The jewels 
that adorned every available part of her body 
were priceless gems of Indian workmanship. 
Diamonds gleamed in her nose, and pearls 
adorned her ears, while surmounting the cluster 
of white jessamine flowers in her hair, was an 
ornament of gold that almost covered the crown 
of her head, like a cap. 

In spite of the heavy jewellery on her ankles, 
her very movement was full of grace, and she 
walked across the floor with the gliding, floating 
motion peculiar to every dancing-dirl in Southern 
India. The jingling of her ornaments, and the 
tinkling of her brave attire, kept time to slow and 
deliberate footsteps. 

Hilda felt slightly embarrassed at the vision, 
and the three women who previously had chatted 
away so pleasantly relapsed into silence, in the 
presence of the newcomer, as though fully aware 
of her superior charms and accomplishments. 
Recovering from her surprise, Hilda hastened to 
make salaam, and to follow up her greeting with a 
few appropriate questions and remarks. Devadasi, 
conscious of her grandeur, and of the admiring 
glances cast upon her by all the women, was 
full of the graciousness she had been taught from 
her babyhood to assume, and asked if Hilda 
would like to visit certain rooms in the house, 
and see for herself, how they were celebrating the 
Dipavali. 

Devadasi acted the part of guide to perfection, 



240 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

and was proud to shew off her superior knowl 
edge, not only before Hilda, but also before the 
Bible women, and the Hindu women of the 
household in which she herself reigned for the 
time being as chief favourite. 

In one room an astonishing collection was ar 
ranged upon and around a European table. This 
Devadasi explained represented the treasure of 
the family, and was to be worshipped morning 
and night during the festival period, under the 
name of Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth. For 
those five days all the goods and chattels of the 
house had become Lakshmi, and they were to be 
reverenced accordingly. 

There were books, a slate, a pencil, a child s 
train, a looking-glass, a doll, cooking vessels, 
brass cups, together with odds and ends of every 
conceivable nature and use, gathered together as 
objects of pooja for the ignorant people, until 
Hilda imagined the superstitious belief of the 
worshippers could go no further. Next she was 
shown the lamp that had been made and dedi 
cated to Yama, the god of death, and of the 
infernal regions. Then piles of fireworks, crack 
ers, and coloured lights that were to be brought 
into requisition on the second day of the festival 
when Vishnu s triumphal entry into the city of 
Naraka the demon, would be celebrated. 

" To-morrow," said Devadasi, " you will see 
Ballapura illuminated from one end to another, 
while thousands of tiny lamps will be hung, 



The Dipavali 241 

wherever there is a space for them, to commemo 
rate the march of the women before Vishnu, 
with lighted lamps, when he returned from slay 
ing the demon. 

" All Hindus will rise early in the morning," 
she continued, " fill their houses with lights, rub 
their bodies with sweet smelling ointments, and 
bathe themselves in hot water. The women, 
children, and men, will all perform the bathing 
ceremony and will then dress themselves in new 
clothes. After this, the chief female in the 
house will take some silver and brass dishes, and 
place wicks in them. This means that she hopes 
the coming year will be a happy one, and will 
witness the removal of all difficulties. Then 
every male in the household will make her a 
present of money ; sweetmeats will be distributed, 
and friends will be invited to dinner." 

" The festival lasts five days, does it not ? " 
asked Hilda as Devadasi paused in her narration. 

"Yes, there will be fireworks every night, and 
the male members of the community will pass 
much of their time in playing games for money 
or jewels. On the last day of the moon, which 
will be the fifth of the festival, all the merchants 
close their accounts for the year. New journals 
and account books will be bought and worshipped 
through the aid of a Brahmin priest. Lakshmi 
will be invoked to render the year prosperous 
throughout its days, and the priests and servants 
will all receive presents of money according to 



242 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

their rank, and after that the Dipavali will be at 
an end." 

Hilda thanked Devadasi for all she had shown 
her, and the explanations she had given with re 
gard to the feast of lamps, and begged that she 
might be allowed to show her some kindness in 
return. 

Devadasi looked well pleased that her efforts 
had been appreciated, and conducted her visitors 
back again to the small apartment at the en 
trance of the house. At a signal from her, two 
female servants approached, each bearing a large 
brass tray. On one were three beautiful wreaths, 
and the other was simply loaded with fruit and 
sweetmeats. With consummate grace, Devadasi 
flung one of the long heavy wreaths over Hilda s 
head and then presented her with a lovely bou 
quet surmounted by a tinsel bird. The Bible 
women were similarly decorated and the servant 
was directed to carry to the waiting jutka the re 
maining flowers and the tray of fruit. Again 
Hilda thanked her hostess for the lavish display 
she had made, and the hearty welcome that had 
been accorded her, and departed under a plenti 
ful shower of rose water sprinkled upon her from 
a curiously shaped silver goblet. 



XXIII 

LAKSHMI S FAVOUR 

FOR once it really did seem as though the 
capricious Lakshmi had been propitiated 
by the many festivities indulged in by the 
devotees who were bent upon winning her favour 
ing smile upon their plans for despoiling Abdallah, 
the grain merchant, of some of his accumulated 
grain. If Osman the Mussulman had lived a few 
days longer, he would probably have revealed to 
Abdallah what he had overheard the conspira 
tors planning in the temple of Basavana at Lin- 
gapura. But he was dead, and his interference 
in other people s concerns was at an end. Abu 
Taleb his master had also crossed the dividing 
line, and the owner of the grain store had mys 
teriously disappeared from Ballapura. He had 
left no instructions behind him, and when his 
clerks and servants saw that he was not a daily 
visitor to the stores, and that they were so en 
tirely free from the surveillance of his keen eye, 
they neglected his interests, and sold only for 
their own profit. 

The night watchman over the piles of shining 
rice, also became lax, and neglected the orders of 
the manager who usually took charge when his 
243 



244 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

master was absent. He was only an ignorant, 
superstitious, degraded, heathen man, but he was 
acute enough to see how his superiors in office 
were neglecting their work, neither was he too 
stupid to follow their example. 

The last night of the Dipavali festival found 
him shaky in the legs, and confused in the head 
with the plentiful supply of toddy that had fallen 
to his lot through the liberality of the loungers 
of various bazaars, and when the darkest night of 
the dark half of October descended upon Balla- 
pura, he was quite prepared to leave the grain 
store to the revels of the night demons while he 
wandered through the streets viewing the illumi 
nations and enjoying the sportive qualities dis 
played by thousands of fizzling, sputtering 
crackers. 

Hundreds, nay thousands of starving men, 
with no hope of a bountiful supply of food in the 
near future, had crowded into Ballapura every 
day of the festival and had returned to their 
village homes at night scarcely restrained from 
looting every one of the grain bazaars that were 
opened so temptingly before their hungry eyes. 
Burning lamps, fireworks, and crackers had no 
power to ease the pain of starvation, and as day 
succeeded day their physical sufferings goaded 
them on almost to desperation. That they were 
not bent on pleasure alone, became so apparent 
to Mr. Burton as the days passed by, that he 
kept a very sharp lookout to try and find if pos- 



Lakshmi s Favour 245 

sible a clue to what was in the minds of the men 
who hung about so sullenly from morning to 
night. The street preaching had attracted thou 
sands of men, women, and children, but they 
seemed to regard it as part of the tamasha, l 
more than anything else. 

" If your God loves us, as you say He does, 
why doesn t He send the rain ? " " If we do 
pooja to your God, will He give us food?" " O 
preacher, tell us how to get food for our starving 
bodies, and we will listen to your words of an 
unseen God." " We are hungry, hungry. We 
and our children are dying, because the rain 
clouds are far distant, and the earth is too 
parched for the grain to grow." These were the 
questions and exclamations that interrupted the 
catechists and the missionary, till as Mr. Burton 
looked over the sea of dark faces by which he 
was surrounded, and noted the unmistakable 
signs of slow starvation wrecking strong men, 
and sapping at the life of women and little chil 
dren, he was fain to cry out in very anguish of 
soul at his own inability to supply the physical 
needs of the crowds around him. His own 
words, telling of Him who was the Saviour of 
mankind sounded for once like a hollow mock 
ery, and with sorrow of heart he ceased preach 
ing, and longed for the power to set before the 
famine stricken people just one good meal. 

The leaven of conspiracy had worked well for 
1 Merrymaking. 



246 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

a month or more, and on that last dark night, all 
was in readiness for the silent and stealthy attack 
on Abdallah s grain store. 

The idea was for a few men to break open the 
store, enter and help themselves to as much as 
they could carry away, pass out, and make room 
for the others so that all might have the chance 
of obtaining at least a few meals of the precious 
grain. All was to be done quietly so as not to 
attract the attention of the inhabitants of Balla- 
pura, for village men alone had planned and 
developed the plot for despoiling the rich man of 
his ill-gotten gains. 

The lamps were lit at last, the illuminations 
shone forth in their last brilliant effort, the 
crackers began to fizz in every possible and im 
possible corner of the town, and every few min 
utes a rocket of unusual splendour ascended 
causing a long, loud note of wondering exclama 
tion ; the tom-toms sounded their harsh voice 
abroad, and all the time silent, excited, famine 
stricken men were finding their way to the dark 
street where the Mohammedan s extensive stores 
were built. 

The watchman was absent enjoying his 
drunken revels, and so there was no one to give 
the alarm. Some one beat the tom-toms louder 
and more discordantly than ever, thus drowning 
the sound of some quick sharp blows aimed at 
the door of Abdallah s front bazaar. A few 
more blows and an opening was made, admitting 



Lakshmi s Favour 247 

two or three of the ring leaders ; desperate 
hands set to work to widen the aperture, and 
soon the boards were being pulled down with 
lightning rapidity by the fingers of men nerved 
to strength through the pangs of hunger, and 
the hope of baskets of shining grain. 

The- throngs gathered in strength, becoming 
denser every minute. Those in the front were 
hemmed closer to the store by the ever increas 
ing human tide pressing up at the back, and in 
order to find breathing room, they poured into 
the opening made in the store, like an army of 
locusts scaling a wall. In, in, they went, till the 
granary too became congested : but it was dark, 
and instead of laying hands on the much needed 
food, they stumbled and fell over each other. 
Another moment, and a tiny wick threw out an 
uncertain flickering light, but quite enough to 
reveal to the looters the heaps of grain they 
were in search of. The sight of the long ex 
pected food proved too much for their famished 
senses, and forgetting their promise of silence 
they set up a wolfish cry of delight as they fell 
upon it, and sought to gather it into the scanty 
cloths around their waists. The still increasing 
crowds in the narrow streets, not understanding 
the cry, took it up, until it echoed, and reechoed 
like the sound of souls in deadly peril. 

The silence was broken, order was gone, and 
the hungry impatient men were turned into a 
pack of wild animals clamouring for the food so 



248 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

long denied them. They fought and struggled, 
and struggled and screamed to get inside the 
stores. Those already within caught the con 
tagion of excitement, and lost all control over 
themselves or their actions. Sacks of grain 
were thrown recklessly out, and coming into 
collision with heads and bodies, burst asunder, 
scattering rice, cholum, ragi, maize, chillies, and 
a host of other food stuffs in all directions. Then 
ensued a mad struggle to obtain the precious 
life preservers. 

Friend fought with friend in the desperation 
of desire, with the result that the food was 
trampled on, and destroyed instead of being 
safely gathered, and tied into bundles. 

Ever and anon, a rocket brighter than usual 
ascended, and cast a lurid light over the surging 
infuriated masses of humanity in that dark street. 
The noise of the tumult grew louder and louder 
until it attracted the attention of the merry 
makers in the illuminated part of the town, and 
they paused in their amusements to listen whence 
the sound proceeded. Looks of consternation 
passed from one to another, and whispered words 
of devils, and demons, giants, and angry gods 
striving for the mastery, made the stoutest heathen 
heart quail. 

Some one began to run, a few more followed 
hard after him; the racers increased, until it 
seemed as though all Ballapura was setting out 
in the one direction. Surely the narrow streets 



Lakshmi s Favour 249 

leading to Abdallah s store would hold no more ; 
but on they pressed, not knowing why or where 
fore. 

The weak soon gave way to the strong, fell 
down and were trampled under hundreds of bare 
feet. There was no hope of any one rising, if 
they once fell beneath the onrush of the ex 
cited thousands, many of whom were intoxicated 
with toddy and arrack, and many others were 
suffering a frenzy of excitement through the 
effects of five days loss and gain in their gam 
bling games. The pleasure seekers mingled 
freely with the looters, and no one appeared to 
seek to stop the spirit of destruction that was upon 
them. Soon other stores as well as Abdallah s 
were attacked, the spoilers carrying off what 
they could, and wantonly destroying everything 
they laid hands on until wholesale looting was 
the order of the night, and destruction spread 
even to the illuminated parts of the town. 

The tiny lamps lit in honour of Lakshmi, the 
goddess, were torn down, the long sheets of 
plate-glass in the bazaars of the Mohammedans 
were smashed into minute fragments, and still 
the excitement went on. By and by, a blaze of 
light shot into the sky, and the affrighted 
rioters stood aghast to see the flames spreading 
from shop to shop as though in mad desire to 
complete the work of destruction they had begun. 
The looters, the rioters, the pleasure seekers were 
checked; for from mouth to mouth the news 



250 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

flashed that Agni, the god of fire, was walking in 
their midst, and was taking his vengeance upon 
them. 

The flames mounted higher and higher, and 
cast quite a brilliant reflection as far as the mis 
sion house where Hilda Roi was in her favourite 
resting-place on the roof. She watched the 
light growing more distinct, and as she watched 
she fancied the noise of a tumult was in her ears, 
and then she descended rapidly to ask some one 
what it could mean. 

But the whole place was deserted. Every 
servant had gone off to see the last of the Dipa- 
vali celebrations, and Hilda was alone except for 
the schoolgirls in the next compound. 

She crossed to the school, and found that the 
confused roar of human voices in the distance 
had aroused the children, and they were all 
awake, and watching the light that now glowed 
over Ballapura like the reflection from some huge 
furnace. 

As they watched and listened, there came the 
quick, precise run of men under orders, and past 
the mission house the English troops from the 
cantonment were hurrying to the scene of the 
disturbance. 

The noise of the thousands of rioters in the 
streets, followed by the glare in the sky, had 
warned the commanding officer that all was not 
well in the native city, and he had promptly 
ordered part of the regiment to proceed to the 



Lakshmi s Favour 251 

town ; but they arrived too late to stop the rav 
ages of the fire or the destruction of the bazaars. 
The sight of the soldiers acted like magic upon 
the infuriated throngs that melted away in all di 
rections leaving the wounded, the dying and the 
dead in the streets ; the wreckage and the plun 
der dropped in their hurried flight revealed by 
morning s light the awful extent of the night s 
Saturnalia. 

Fortunately there was no breeze to fan the 
flames, and so the fire forbore to leap the space 
to the vegetable market. And by dawn of day 
smoldering heaps alone remained of the prosper 
ous Abdallah s property, for strange to say, the 
whole block that the fire consumed belonged to 
the man who had held back his grain from his 
starving townspeople, until the price should rise 
high enough even to satisfy his unholy love of 
gain. Early next morning, the soldiers were at 
work carrying off the dead for burial, and the 
wounded to the plague camp vacated that very 
day by its only occupant, Fatimah, who had es 
caped contagion in spite of the night she had 
spent by Abu s side. 

Mr. Burton and his ready band of helpers, the 
catechists, were most active in their endeavours 
to bring help to the sufferers whose condition 
had not been improved by hours of exposure in 
the open streets. 

Many bodies were charred and disfigured by 
the fire, many others had been reduced to a 



252 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

fleshy pulp in the mad stampede towards 
Abdallah s store. In one street, Mr. Burton 
found the form of a little girl lying, her black 
curly head rested upon the bosom of an old 
Modammedan woman who was quite dead. Her 
heavy outer covering had fallen back revealing a 
face deeply marked with smallpox, and other 
wise plain almost to ugliness. The missionary 
drew the veil tenderly over the dead face, and 
turned his attention to the still living child. 
She was lithe of form, and small in body, so he 
picked her up in his strong arms, and carried 
her carefully towards an improvised stretcher on 
which the mangled body of a little baby lay. 

As he reached it, a military doctor came along, 
and stopped to speak to Mr. Burton, but the 
words were arrested on his lips as he glanced at 
the burden he carried, and exclaimed, 

" Surely this must be my little friend whom I 
rescued from the plague house in the Moham 
medan quarter, a week ago. It is not one 
native child in a hundred that can boast the 
ripples in the hair she has. Ah; poor little 
wounded mite. Take her to Miss Roi, Mr. 
Burton, and I will call and attend to her as soon 
as possible." 



XXIV 

WHAT SUNDARI KNEW 

THE celebration of the Dipavali festival 
in Ballapura had ended disastrously. If 
Lakshmi s smile had been alluring the 
first four days, she certainly withdrew her favour 
on the night of the fifth. The hunger that had 
impelled the villagers to attack Abdallah s store 
remained unsatisfied. Some few of the ring 
leaders had been arrested, tried and sentenced to 
various terms of imprisonment for the part they 
had taken in the riot. Many houses had been 
wrecked or burnt down, and scores of lives had 
been sacrificed. In consequence the poverty 
and distress of the people increased as the rain 
held off, and the hot weather came on. 

The days and weeks that succeeded the tumult 
were busy ones in the mission house. Hilda 
Roi had gladly received Sundari into the Girls 
Home, and with the aid of the matron and the 
skill of the doctor had nursed her back to health 
and strength, and a great measure of happiness. 

But it was weeks before she was well enough 

to be questioned about the last fatal night of the 

Feast of Lamps. While she lay weak and 

ill, Hilda had been out to Lingapura to com- 

253 



254 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

municate with her parents, but had learnt that 
her mother was dead, and her father had gone 
on a journey. One afternoon she resolved to 
try and get the child to talk about the few days 
immediately preceding the night of her accident, 
and so she sat down by her bed, and began to 
peel an orange and give it to Sundari in quarters. 
As she peeled the fruit and divided it into pieces, 
she said, 

" My little Sundari, where do you think I went 
this morning soon after sunrise ? " 

" Perhaps to Lingapura to find my mother 
and father. I wonder why they do not come 
here to see me." 

" No, you have guessed wrongly. I have been 
to try and see your Rokaia, and the women of 
Abu Taleb s household." 

" O Missyamma, Rokaia is dead. I thought 
you knew all about it, and that was why you 
never spoke of her because you thought it would 
trouble me," and Sundari s beautiful eyes glittered 
with tears she could not shed. 

" Dead ! O my little sister. I did not know. 
When did she die ? " 

" Listen, O Missyamma, and I will tell you all 
about it. After you went away that night, my 
Rokaia was very happy, and talked much of 
when you would come again. Every day, when 
she woke, she would say, the lady will come to 
day, and tell me more about Jesus who is my 
friend, and when the day passed, and you did 



What Sundari Knew 255 

not return, she would expect you the next day, 
and five days went by, and still you did not 
come." 

" Ah Sundari, my little sister, those were the 
days of the festival, and Abu s younger brother 
who was in the office when I called the next day 
to obtain permission to visit Rokaia regularly, 
said his brother was absent in Bombay, and he 
could not allow me to visit the harem without 
his sanction. He bade me call again after the 
festival, when he thought his brother would 
probably be back." 

" Oh yes, but all the time Rokaia s husband 
was dead, and so was Osman, the Mussulman 
who carried me away from Lingapura." 

" My dear child, how do you know all this ? " 
asked Hilda in astonishment. 

" I will tell you. The last day of the festival, 
we were all so glad to see old Fatimah come in 
again. She had much news to tell us of all that 
had happened since the day she had set out to 
find you. She told us Abu Taleb had died in 
her own house of a dreadful disease called plague. 
She did not know what had come of his body, 
because some policemen took it away in a cart, 
and she said she was afraid that her own master 
must be dead too. 

" When the wives and the slave girls heard 
that Abu was dead, they made so much noise 
with their cries and shrieks that the master s 
younger brother came to see what was the 



256 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

matter, and then Fatimah had to tell him all 
about the dreadful night Abu was in Osman s 
house; but the brother pretended not to be 
lieve her, and he said he had heard all about 
the Mohammedan gentleman who had died of 
plague, and that it was not Abu but some strange 
merchant from Bombay. 

" Then the women of the harem grew quiet 
again, and Fatimah was able to tell us how the 
cruel English people burnt up everything that 
was in her house, and then took her away, and 
kept her living for ten days in a little tent, all by 
herself. On the last day of the festival, they 
told her she could go home because she had not 
died of plague as they expected she would. The 
doctor Dhorai was kind to her, and gave her five 
rupees to buy some new cooking chatties, but 
everything in her house was destroyed, and she 
had nowhere to go to, so she came to see Rokaia 
and the women, and Rokaia bade her stay there 
until the next day when the festival would be over. 

" When night drew on, the women got very 
frightened, thinking that perhaps Fatimah had 
told the truth, and that their master was really 
dead. So we lit all the lamps we had, and took 
them into Rokaia s apartment, and we all sat to 
gether while Fatimah told us again of Abu s 
death till we all believed what she said, and we 
were too frightened to move. After a little 
while, Rokaia said, Let us talk about Jesus who 
loves us, and let us think of when the lady will 



What Sundari Knew 257 

come back again to tell us more about Him/ 
and so we tried to remember all you had said. 

" While we were talking Rokaia sat up on her 
lounge and presently her eyes began to sparkle, 
and she said, I feel so well and rested to-night. 
It must be true that Jesus gives rest to the weary 
ones. Sundari, Sundari : Jesus, my Jesus, and 
then she fell back on the pillows with a strange 
look on her face. I put my arms round her, but 
she was heavy and cold." Sundari paused, and 
the tears fell in shining drops upon her cheeks. 
Hilda gave her another piece of the juicy 
orange, and gently begged her to tell the rest 
of the story another time. 

" Dear Missyamma, let me finish. It does not 
seem so bad when I am talking to you," and she lay 
with the orange in her little brown fingers as she 
continued, " The women began to scream, and 
make a terrible noise, but while they made so 
much confusion within, there was the roar of 
many voices outside, and all the time my Rokaia 
lay quite still, and Fatimah took my arms from 
under her, and said she was dead. 

" But the room was very light, for all the lamps 
were burning, and she looked more beautiful than 
I had ever seen her because the old tired ex 
pression had quite gone. Fatimah folded the 
pretty silk sari around her, and took me away. 
I don t think the other women noticed us go, 
because they were crying and screaming, and 
calling on the name of their holy prophet. 



258 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

" When we were in an outer apartment, Fa- 
timah whispered now that Abu Taleb and Rokaia 
were both dead, she would take me away, and we 
would go back to Lingapura, and live once more 
in the house near Basavana s temple. I felt sorry 
to leave Rokaia, but glad to think I should see my 
father and mother again. 

" Fatimah wrapped me round in a thick sari, 
and we went out into the streets where thousands 
of pretty lamps were burning, and crowds of 
people were all running in one direction. Fati 
mah did not know where they were going, but 
she said there must be some tamasha to be seen, 
and we might as well go too. Then we got in 
amongst a lot of people, and there were so many 
coming behind us that we could not turn back, 
and yet we could not move forward. Fatimah 
put her arms round me to keep me from falling, 
but the crowds pushed us close up to a house 
pial, and she was knocked down, and I fell on 
top of her, and could not get up again. After 
that, Missyamma, I must have gone to sleep, for 
one morning I woke up in this nice bed, and I 
thought that I must be in Kailasa," and a wan 
smile crossed the child s tired little face as she 
brought her story to a close. Hilda forbore to 
comment on what she had heard, but instead 
said, " Now you must lie quite still, and eat your 
orange while I talk, and tell you all I have heard 
to-day. While you have been ill, I have tried 
several times to gain admittance to Abu Taleb s 



What Sundari Knew 259 

harem, but have always been refused my request. 
To-day I went past the money-lender s bazaar, 
and found it all closed up. On making en 
quiries, I was told that the business had been 
transferred to Madras, where Abu s brothers live, 
and that all the women of the harem had been 
taken there too. There was a man sitting near 
the bazaar, and as I knew him well by sight, I 
asked him if he knew the reason for the change, 
and he said, it was supposed that Abu Taleb, the 
great sowcar, had died of plague while visiting 
Bombay ; for neither he nor his servant Osman 
had ever returned to Ballapura. It was also 
thought that his senior partner Abdallah, the 
grain merchant, must have perished in the grain 
riots on the last sad night of the Dipavali ; for it 
was round his granary the tumult had raged 
most fiercely. As both partners appeared to be 
dead, Abu Taleb s younger brothers had decided 
to close up the Ballapura branch of the business." 

" Did Fatimah go with the other women to 
Madras ? " 

Hilda hesitated for one moment as to whether 
she should tell Sundari all the sad news ; but de 
cided it Was better to let her know at once all 
that was to be told. 

" No, little one. Kind old Fatimah must have 
been the Mohammedan woman who was found 
with her arms thrown protectingly around you." 

" Was she hurt like I was ? " 

" No, she was not even bruised. She must 



260 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

have died almost as gently as the beautiful 
Rokaia, and she was buried according to the 
Moslem rites by some of the charitably disposed 
people of her own faith." 

" Rokaia knew Jesus, but Fatimah only heard 
the little I could tell her," was Sundari s quiet 
reply while a sad expression crept into her eyes 
that looked unnaturally large and bright now 
that her face was thinner. 

" I think we have talked long enough, my 
Sundari. I will sing to you. What shall it 
be?" 

" Please sing : 

" Rescue the perishing, 
Care for the dying. 

Old blind Sankamma sang that to me yes 
terday, and I would like to hear it again." 



CHAPTER XXV 

RUTHAMMA S STORY 

" T^ ^TISS ROI, could you spare three or 
I % / 1 four days to take a trip into the dis- 
JL T J- trict next week ? " were the words 
with which Mr. Burton greeted Hilda one morn 
ing a few months after her long talk with Sun- 
dari. 

" The only way that I could spare the time 
would be by leaving my work here," was her 
reply. 

" Well, suppose you decide to do that. There 
are not many Christians out at Little Ballapura, 
but they are struggling to keep open a school f 
and I think if you could look in, and then visit 
some of the houses with our Bible women 
stationed out there, it would be most helpful. I 
am going out on Friday to baptize some people, 
but I shall leave again on Tuesday, and if you 
leave Ballapura the same day, and arrive on 
Wednesday it will give our catechist time to 
clean up the chapel after my occupation of it, 
and I can arrange for bullock carts to meet you 
at the railway station. What do you think of 
the plan ? " 

" Yes, I think I could manage it. Can I re- 
261 



262 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

turn to Ballapura in time for our Sunday serv 
ices ? " 

" Oh yes. I must be back for Sunday too, 
but I want to visit several places besides Little 
Ballapura. You ought to be back easily by 
Saturday afternoon, but it will probably be mid 
night before I arrive." 

Six o clock on the following Wednesday 
found Hilda with her faithful companion Ruth 
at the Ballapura railway station, ready to com 
mence the first stage of their night journey to 
Little Ballapura. 

The train was packed from end to end with a 
seething mass of Hindu humanity. In vain 
Hilda and Ruth tried to obtain a seat in a second- 
class compartment, and at last they had to appeal 
to the station-master, but he was just as unsuc 
cessful in his search as they were. He vouch 
safed the information that owing to the crowd 
of passengers travelling that night, an extra car 
riage would have to be attached to the train, and 
Hilda might have a seat in a third-class com 
partment. 

While he spoke, the carriage was shunted 
along, and the station master called a coolie to 
sweep out a compartment for the English 
Dhorasani. But while he swept with hearty 
good-will, the travelling public pushed forward, 
and took possession of the carriage in over 
whelming numbers, and Hilda again had to seek 
the aid of the station-master. But he was pow- 



Ruthamma s Story 263 

erless to eject the occupants. One man against 
thirty or forty determined seat holders was quite 
unequal to the task before him. The expression 
of his face told plainly that he wished the Eng 
lish lady would find a seat for herself and not 
trouble him over the matter. As he stood with 
a perplexed countenance, a Parsee gentleman 
emerged from a first-class carriage, and the 
station-master explained his dilemma to him, and 
asked if he would allow the English lady and 
her servant a seat in his carriage. Hilda has 
tened to add that she was going only a short dis 
tance, so that she would not be any inconvenience 
to him if he were travelling the whole night. 

" Madam," was his reply, " I am proceeding to 
my home in Bombay, but if you are leaving the 
train before eleven o clock to-night, I shall with 
much pleasure place my compartment at your 
disposal until then." 

" I believe we arrive at our destination at about 
half-past nine. As you so kindly give up your 
carriage to us, I shall most thankfully avail my 
self of your generosity in this matter as the 
business that calls me into the country is im 
portant^ and my work will suffer if I am delayed 
at the commencement of my journey." 

" If the arrangement suits madam, and brings 
even the smallest happiness to her, I am pleased 
to forego, for a few hours, such a small luxury as 
a carriage to myself," was the bland reply of the 
Parsee merchant. 



264 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

And so instead, of being left standing on the 
platform, Hilda and Ruth were whirled along on 
the first stage of their journey in a luxuriously 
cushioned first-class carriage. But the enjoyment 
of the comfort was slightly marred for Hilda be 
cause the Parsee would stand outside on the 
platform rather than intrude his presence upon 
her. She would have enjoyed a conversation 
with this hospitable sun-worshipper, but he gave 
her no opportunity, and she had to content her 
self with a few warm words of thanks when she 
vacated the carriage of which she had deprived 
him. 

True to his promise, Mr. Burton had sent three 
bullock carts to meet the travellers, and soon the 
little wayside station was left in the moonlight, 
and the bullocks were going along at their own 
delightful pace. Neither deep ruts nor boulders 
proved a source of trouble to either the drivers 
or the bullocks. On they went, jolting Hilda, 
and the mattress, on which she lay, almost out of 
the cart. It was vain to call to the bandy man, 
for the motion of the cart was as soothing to him 
as a mother s foot on the rocker of her baby s 
cradle, and before many miles were accomplished 
he was asleep at his post, and the patient bullocks 
were plodding on over the rough road without 
any guiding human hand. 

After about two hours travelling the way be 
came more even, and by the coolness of the air 
Hilda knew she must be crossing the range of 



Ruthamma s Story 265 

hills behind which Little Ballapura lay. Then 
the increased motion told her she must be de 
scending, and she vaguely wondered if she would 
reach the plain whole or in pieces. Her hair 
pins had long before taken refuge in the straw at 
the bottom of the cart, and her hair hung down 
her back in wild disorder, but she dare not take 
her hands from their convulsive hold on the 
bamboo rods that formed the sides of the cart, 
lest she should be pitched forward, on the backs 
of the descending bullocks. 

It was a relief when the foot of the hills was 
reached, and the road stretched ahead on a fairly 
level plain. Hilda breathed rather more freely, 
and even tried to lift up the sack at the end of 
the cart to see how her companions in travel 
were faring, but the other carts were nowhere in 
sight, and she ventured to touch the driver on 
his back with her umbrella to wake him up, and 
ask if the other carts were ahead, but she only 
received a sleepy grunt in reply. By and by, 
she too got accustomed to the uneven motion, 
became drowsy, and finally dropped asleep, and 
woke to find it three o clock in the morning, and 
the cart standing still outside the chapel at Little 
Ballapura, while the cheery tones of the catechist 
were bidding her welcome in the name of the 
little Christian community she had come to visit 
for the first time. The allotted three days flew by 
all too quickly, for there was much to be done, 
both in the school, and in connection with the 



266 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

house to house visitation carried on by the wife 
of Dasappa the catechist. 

The last night had come, and Hilda was alone 
in the little mission chapel where all was quiet 
and peaceful at the close of a busy day. The 
supper was over, and the cot which had been set 
up in a corner of the chapel looked very inviting, 
especially so in face of the fact that she hoped to 
be astir in the morning long before the sun rose 
so that she might be well on her way to Balla- 
pura before the intense heat of midday drove 
her and her companions to take shelter in a 
friendly wayside bungalow where they expected 
to find breakfast awaiting them. 

As Hilda sat wrapped in thought, Ruth glided 
into the chapel, and startled Hilda by saying : 
" Are you very tired, Missyamma ? The moon is 
shining brightly ; it is so cool after the heat of 
the day, and I would like you to come with me 
to my brother s house. My brother s wife is not 
a Christian, do please come and see her. There 
will be no opportunity to-morrow morning be 
cause we leave so early." 

Who could resist the pleading tones and the 
soft beseeching eyes of the dark figure asking so 
earnestly, " Are you very tired, Missyamma ? " 

Certainly Hilda could not, and she answered 
promptly, " Not too tired for a walk with you, 
Ruth." Putting on a light wrap, the two women 
passed out into the moonlight which was shed 
ding a soft radiance all round, lighting up the 



Ruthamma s Story 267 

narrow dirty streets, resting on the gopuras of 
the idol temples, and playing round the little 
chapel which for those who had just emerged 
from it, possessed so many sacred memories. After 
walking quite a short distance Ruth said, " Please 
wait here one minute, Missy," and before Hilda 
had time to reply, she darted from her side, and 
she was left standing in the deserted street of a 
heathen town, not knowing just where she was, 
or what was about to happen. 

However she had not to wait many minutes, 
for Ruth, her friend, and fellow-worker soon re 
turned, and with a happy face said, " It is all 
right, come along, Missy. My sister-in-law will 
talk to you. She is quite alone." 

They walked quickly on, and passed from the 
region of brilliant tropical moonlight into a dark 
courtyard, and from thence into a large room lit 
up by a small wick flaring away in a little grease 
at the top of a native lamp. After getting used 
to the darkness, Hilda saw the object of her visit 
sitting on a mat on the floor. A heathen 
woman, proud of her caste, proud of her devo 
tion to the gods of her fathers, scornful of the 
religion -of others, and without the shadow of a 
desire for anything different from what her an 
cestors had possessed. After a good deal of 
time had been wasted in the customary greet 
ings, and many curious enquiries had been an 
swered, Hilda managed to come to the main 
object of her visit, and amid many interruptions 



268 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

to tell Ruth s heathen relative of Jesus, mighty 
to save, and mighty to keep all who came unto 
Him in faith. She had heard the story of 
Christ s love many times from Dasappa s wife, but 
listened to it with renewed interest as Hilda Roi 
spoke, yet apparently it had no effect upon her, 
for rather than talk about this new religion, she 
was eager to tell all the gossip of the bazaar, and 
the family history of the past six years since her 
young relative had embraced Christianity and 
had left mother, friends, and home to follow 
Jesus. 

Ruth would have liked to linger, but the night 
was wearing on, and Hilda suggested they had 
better return to the shelter of the chapel. In 
silence Ruth complied and once again the two 
were out in the moonlight streets. Suddenly 
Ruth broke the silence by asking in suppressed 
excitement if her companion would like to see 
the house where she was born. 

" Is it far away, dear Ruthamma, because the 
hour is late ? " 

" No, no, Missyamma : it is quite near," and 
the girl pointed to a much larger house than any 
of the others in the street they were walking 
down. 

Hilda took a few steps forward, so that she 
might get a better view of the place that was en 
shrined in her Bible woman s memory as home, 
and Ruth spoke again. 

" My mother lives there now. How I would 



Ruthamma s Story 269 

like to see her to-night, and hear her speak 
kindly to me as she did before I became a Chris 
tian. Since the day I gave up idol worship, she 
has not shown me any love, or spoken one kind 
word to me, and I do so long for my mother s 
love. If she would only love Jesus she would 
love me too." As she finished speaking a cry 
rang out on the still night air, " Brother, 
brother." 

For a moment Hilda was startled, until she 
realized where she was, and what had happened. 
She was standing in a heathen land, outside the 
heathen home of a Christian girl who was an 
outcast from the home and hearts of her rela 
tions, and who dared not to cross the threshold 
or look on the faces of those she loved because 
she had heard the voice of Jesus, and hearing 
that voice had obeyed, and left all to follow in 
His steps. 

After the cry had been twice repeated, a man 
appeared on the pial of the house. He was a 
fair specimen of a well satisfied heathen man, 
with his loin cloth thrown carelessly on, and his 
sacred thread showing conspicuously white against 
his dark skin. He was the brother who had 
come out at the sound of that cry in the street. 

At first he was inclined to be rude, but the 
sight of the strange English woman with his 
sister kept him somewhat in check, for after a few 
questions had been asked, he became more com 
municative, but at the same time steadily refused 



270 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

to allow Ruth to enter the house or to see any 
other members of the family. 

After much pleading Ruth asked in quivering 
accents, " If I may not come in, will my mother 
come out to speak to me ? I do want to see her, 
and hear her voice once again." 

" Yes, perhaps you do. But your mother does 
not want to see you ; she is taking her rice now, 
and cannot be disturbed." 

But Ruth was persistent, and made yet another 
effort, and this time the father s heart within the 
man responded ; for the chord touched by his 
sister was the chord of love. 

She asked no more about her mother, but 
Hilda detected the sound of tears in her voice, as 
she said, 

" Since I went away, brother, you have had 
two little babies born to you. I have never seen 
them. Are they nice little babies ? What are 
their names ? Do let me see them just once. O 
my brother, only once," and she clasped her 
hands entreatingly. 

The father s voice was certainly less gruff as he 
said, " They are now asleep, so you cannot see 
them to-night and to-morrow you will be gone." 

Hilda detected the wavering indecision of his 
tone, and at once promised entire silence for 
both if they might take but one short peep at the 
sleeping children, and in a few minutes, they had 
crossed the forbidden boundary, and that young 
Christian aunt was gazing with eyes of love upon 



Ruthamma s Story 271 

her two small heathen relatives and one of them 
was actually laid in her arms that she might kiss 
and fondle it for a few minutes. 

Soft and low though the voices of the speakers 
were,, as they admired the two plump Hindu 
babies, the sound must have penetrated further 
than they were aware of, for quite suddenly a 
loud and angry feminine voice demanded what was 
going on, and turning round Ruth found herself 
face to face with her mother whom she so longed 
to see, and be reconciled to. 

When the mother saw her daughter such a 
storm of abuse was poured out as made Hilda 
quiver all over. With curses, bitter and deep 
she drove Ruth out of the room. 

" O mother, mother, speak kindly to your 
child," was the despairing cry of poor Ruth as 
Hilda drew her gently away from the sound of 
the angry words that were entering like iron into 
her loving heart. As the friends walked back to 
the chapel they talked of Him who sticketh 
closer than a brother, becoming more precious to 
those who love and trust Him fully than even 
father or mother or any other earthly relation 
can ever be. 



XXVI 

TO RAMASWAMI S BUNGALOW 

THE Shepherd Village, where Lingappa 
had found a refuge, was far removed 
from the world of Ballapura, and no dis 
turbing influence reached the simple minded folk 
there, except that, they too began to feel the 
pinch of the impending famine, and consequently 
the shepherds had to wander further afield to 
find pasturage for their diminishing flocks. 

About half a dozen of the shepherds together 
with Lingappa were strongly drawn towards 
Christianity, and their theme of conversation was 
nearly always connected with the return of Mr. 
Burton, and the settlement of a Christian teacher 
in their midst; but the weeks and the months 
flew by with no message from the great outer 
world, and it required all Lingappa s small stock 
of persuasive powers to keep the spark of hope 
burning within the hearts of the men who were 
his daily companions. 

The cool weather of December and January 
had glided almost imperceptibly into the hot days 
of February, and the scorching hours of March. 
It was quite hopeless to look for rain until June, 
and then there would probably be only a few 
days with passing showers. 
272 



To Ramaswami s Bungalow 273 

The small stock of grain stored in the village 
was getting less and less ; the wells, of which 
there were several deep ones, were running dry, 
the sheep were dying for want of grass, and the 
men began to grow sullen and dispirited. 

The carpenter, whose work Lingappa had been 
invited to do, died, leaving no son to succeed 
him, and the village authorities pressed him to 
remain for the time being. Lingappa loved his 
handicraft, and indeed was quite clever at the 
elaborate carving that all Indian village carpen 
ters have to learn, and so he willingly gave his 
services in return for his food, and a house to 
live in. 

As he became accustomed to his work, and 
went in and out of the temples doing the slight 
repairs that were necessary, the poojaris began 
to notice that the new carpenter was lax in his 
devotion to the gods. 

He never prostrated himself before the idols, 
or carried flowers or limes or cocoanuts as he 
had been wont to do in his old home, and when 
questioned concerning his delinquencies in this 
direction, he answered the poojaris that the Eng 
lish Dhorai had taught him to pray from his 
heart in the secret of his own home to a God 
who was a Great and Mighty Spirit, and who 
could read the secret thoughts of those who 
worshipped and loved Him. But this was quite 
contrary to the teaching of the village priests, 
and they set themselves to stop the spread of 



274 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

such heresy lest others should become tainted, 
and the revenue of their temples suffer in conse 
quence. 

Accordingly, the poojaris instigated the vil 
lagers to organize on a larger scale than usual a 
devil dance to seek to propitiate the demons who 
were supposed to be tormenting the shepherds 
by causing them to wander far and wide vainly 
leading their sheep from place to place in search 
of the food that was nowhere to be found. For 
weeks, the forthcoming devil dance was the topic 
of conversation amongst both old and young, and 
all looked forward to it with feelings of pleasure 
strangely mingled with deep dread. 

Lingappa heard of all the elaborate prepara 
tions that were in train, and privately determined 
to keep out of the sound of the revelry, and so 
on the appointed day he had gone off early with 
the shepherds. 

Night came on, and the festivities commenced, 
mildly at first, but gradually working up to the 
pitch of excitement dear to the native mind. 
Just when the madness was at its height, and 
many hundreds of the villagers had worked 
themselves up to a like frenzy with the hired 
professional dancers, and were throwing them 
selves with zest into the diabolical dancing, and 
whirling round the place of sacrifice, Lingappa, 
the strange carpenter from no one knew where, 
was being branded as the cause of the impending 
famine. Soon a whisper from one and then an- 



To Ramaswami s Bungalow 275 

other, was being passed round amongst the mad 
dened throngs that the goddess Durga was call 
ing out for human blood, and that no rain would 
fall until a bleeding body lay on the sacrificial 
stone. The blood of goats and sheep was not 
sufficient to turn away her wrath from the vil 
lagers who had received a devil possessed man 
in their midst, and she demanded the blood of 
the stranger to flow at her feet ; his skull to add 
to those already around her neck, and his hands 
to enlarge the ghastly girdle around her waist. 

The fiat had gone forth, Lingappa must die, a 
sacrificial victim on the altar of Durgamma the 
goddess of lust, and excited, nay infuriated men 
rushed in haste from the scene of the midnight 
orgy, to bring him a prisoner to the priest who 
should slay him in front of the hideous idol of 
the bloodthirsty wife of Shiva. 

But Lingappa was not to be found either in 
the village or out of it, and while they searched 
in one direction he was tramping away in an 
other with his face steadily set towards Lin- 
gapura. 

When his shepherd friends had returned at 
night he -had made an excuse for leaving them at 
a point some miles away from the sheepfolds 
and had walked on and on, until feeling tired he 
lay down under the shelter of some rocks with 
which that part of the country abounded, and 
had fallen asleep not to awake until the early 
dawn of the following morning. 



276 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

His first waking thought was of an imperative 
need that he should return to Lingapura without 
delay. 

He rose refreshed with his long dreamless 
sleep, and even while the brilliancy of the morn 
ing stars paled before the advent of the sun, he 
began to walk with the determined gait of a man 
who had an important object in view. 

At every step, his spirits rose, and the further 
he proceeded on his unplanned journey, the less 
regret he felt at leaving the shepherd village be 
hind. 

But a week s travelling, with only a chance 
meal now and again, wearied him, and he began 
to wonder if he were in the right direction, and 
how far he could be from Lingapura. The 
country was not familiar, and he half suspected 
that he was not returning the way he came. 

The villages seemed long distances apart, and 
it was seldom he met any one to talk to. Every 
day the heat became more intense, and he found 
he could go but slowly after the sun was well up 
in the heavens. 

On the morning of his eighth day of travelling 
the sun rose like a great fiery ball of molten 
copper, and called him to renewed exertion if he 
were to get any distance within the next three 
hours, but he felt so uncertain as to which way 
to take that he lingered beyond his usual start 
ing time. When he did rise from his resting 
place by the wayside, he took up his turban 



To Ramaswami s Bungalow 277 

which had served as a covering during the night, 
and began leisurely twisting it into its natural 
use around his head. Meanwhile he scanned the 
horizon with anxious eyes. As he looked a dark 
speck loomed up on the long white road behind 
him, and as he watched, it took form, and in a 
few minutes he felt sure it was an approaching 
bullock cart. In half an hour, the cart was along 
side him, and he was asking the driver which 
was the nearest way to Lingapura. The bandy 
man had never heard of Lingapura before, but 
he was inclined to be friendly, and so he offered 
the wayfarer a seat behind the bullocks for the 
next five miles. 

Lingappa, thankful for the respite from walk 
ing with his already blistered feet along the hot 
road, gratefully accepted the questionable com 
fort of the front rail of the bandy. 

Before the bullocks started off again, with 
their uneven jog trot, a voice from within the 
cart bade the driver to mend his pace if he 
meant to reach the bungalow in good time. 

Thus admonished, the driver exerted all his 
powers to urge the bullocks forward. He twisted 
their tails, cracked his whip, spoke encouragingly 
to them, wound up their tails again, and finally 
with many expletives slapped them on the sides, 
with the result that the animals really did break 
into a brisk trot for quite a quarter of a mile ; but 
soon the exertions of both driver and bullocks 
ceased, and their slow going Oriental nature re- 



278 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

sumed its ascendency. The rope that did duty 
for reins hung carelessly across the bullocks, and 
the driver sought consolation in a choice mouth 
ful of much loved betel which he extracted from 
a fold in his loin cloth. He even passed a bit on 
to Lingappa, and then began to be communica 
tive. 

" I am only going as far as a traveller s bunga 
low on this side of the railway station, and there 
I shall have a good meal, and a rest before re 
turning to Little Ballapura this evening." 

" What are you going there for ? " asked 
Lingappa, privately hoping he might come in for 
a share of the good meal. 

" The man inside the cart is the cook of an 
English lady who has been visiting our town. 
He is going on to Ramaswami s bungalow to get 
the Dhorasani s food ready. He carries the rice, 
and the bread, the curry and the chutney, and 
the lady will come when the meal is prepared." 

Lingappa became interested. This was news 
indeed. An English lady, and a morning meal, 
to say nothing of the prospective luxury of a 
traveller s bungalow close at hand, were the 
most interesting items of news he had heard 
since his midnight talks with the missionary in 
the little white tent. 

" Where is the lady now ? " was his next ques 
tion. 

" We left her in Little Ballapura last night ; 
but my elder brother was to be ready with his 



To Ramaswami s Bungalow 279 

cart to bring her on an hour before daybreak 
this morning." 

Again the voice of the servant within com 
manded the driver to cease talking, and to hurry 
his animals along. But Lingappa had plenty of 
food for reflection, and the way seemed all too 
short to the bungalow where he must alight, and 
make a parting salaam to the friendly bandy 
man. 

It must have been eight o clock when the 
shelter of the wayside rest-house was reached. 
The cook was in a hurry, and pressed both 
Lingappa and the driver into his service, to help 
unload the cart, so that he might start his prep 
arations for the morning meal with as little 
delay as possible. 

When he was no longer wanted, Lingappa 
loitered about in the hope that the English 
Dhorasani would arrive, so that he might get a 
glimpse of her and satisfy himself with regard 
to her identity with the white lady who had 
visited Lingapura, on the day of his wife s death, 
and little Sundari s disappearance. 

Then too, he wanted something to eat, and he 
quite expected the driver of the cart and the 
cook would share their meal with him. 

He became very interested in watching all the 
preparations for the forthcoming breakfast as 
Mhadri, the cook, informed him what the first 
meal of the day was called in English, and he 
hovered round the little dining-room in wonder- 



280 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

ing surprise at the white cloth, knives and forks, 
cups and saucers that were produced from a 
basket, and laid on the table ready for use. The 
meal was cooked in good time, but the lady for 
whom it was prepared delayed her arrival, and 
all three of the men relaxed their efforts, and 
threw themselves on the ground to doze away 
the time of waiting. 

Towards twelve o clock, the rumble of cart 
wheels announced the approach of some one, 
and the cook caught up his white calico jacketj 
and ran out to the front of the bungalow as he 
fastened it up. Lingappa followed him rather 
more leisurely, and took up his position behind 
a tree so that he could be an unseen spectator of 
all that might happen. He was just in time to 
see a native girl slip out of the back of the cart, 
run into the bungalow and return with a chair 
which she placed for some one to step upon, and 
while the Dhorasani was making use of the chair 
as a means for descending to the ground, an 
other cart came slowly into the courtyard and 
from it jumped the white haired missionary 
whom he had last seen many miles away in a 
little tent pitched on the outskirts of the Shep 
herd Village. 

Lingappa could restrain himself no longer, and 
rushing from his hiding-place, he threw himself 
before Mr. Burton and sought to kiss his feet as 
he almost sobbed out, " My father ! My father ! " 

There was glad surprise for all the party : 



To Ramaswami s Bungalow 281 

for Hilda immediately recognized the man who 
had been her guide from the village of Linga- 
pura, on to the main road that led to Ballapura. 

The next few minutes were taken up with 
mutual explanations, and the breakfast that had 
been prepared under such difficulties by the cook, 
was quite unheeded, until Mr. Burton had told 
Hilda all he knew of Lingappa, and she in re 
turn had to tell of her meeting with him, and of 
the services he had rendered her. 



XXVII 

SUNDARI S FATHER 

AFTER meeting with Miss Roi and Mr. 
Burton in the wayside bungalow, built 
to gain merit by some dead and gone 
Ramaswami, there was no more weary tramping, 
with blistered feet over hot and dusty roads for 
Lingappa. He shared the cook s curry and rice, 
helped to pack the luggage-bandy, and then 
rode as an inside passenger with the other serv 
ants as far as the country railway station where 
Hilda procured him a ticket, and for the first 
time in his life he stepped into a railway car 
riage, and was carried over the next thirty miles 
of his journey with what, to his simple mind, 
seemed like lightning rapidity. 

The school children were all on the alert, ex 
pecting the arrival of Miss Roi, after her few 
days absence in the country, and when the 
whistle of the train was heard in the distance, 
there was a general running to and fro, to see 
who would be the first to make salaam to the 
Missyamma. 

Six months in the quiet healthy comfort of the 
mission home had improved Sundari wonder 
fully. She had grown perceptibly taller; her 
282 



Sundari s Father 283 

hair too was long enough to gather into a small 
plait, and her simple white muslin sari with its 
narrow yellow border, suited her far better than 
the gorgeous apparel with which Fatimah had 
adorned her, or than the dirty torn apology she 
had worn in the old days at Lingapura. 

Many of the girls had obtained the matron s 
permission to go to the front gate to see Miss 
Roi return, and a few of them including Sundari 
were standing on the veranda when the jutka 
drove up. They all wanted to speak, and be 
spoken to, and while Hilda was chatting away 
to them, the luggage bandies came slowly up. 
First the cook jumped out, and he was followed 
by a dirty, unkempt, almost unclothed stranger, 
at the sight of whom many of the girls retreated. 
Only Sundari and Nilamma remained, for Sun 
dari had grasped Nilamma s hand at the first 
glimpse she caught of the man alighting from 
the bullock-cart, and stood transfixed with an in 
tense look in her eyes as she waited breathlessly 
for him to turn round. It seemed an age to her, 
but in reality it was only a few seconds until she 
was sure her eyes had not deceived her, and then 
she broke away from Nilamma with a glad cry 
of recognition, " My father ! O my father ! " 

The words gave Lingappa an odd choking 
sensation, for the voice was the voice of his own 
beloved Sundari for whom he had been search 
ing for so many long months ; but the owner of 
the voice was a tall, clean, white-robed maiden 



284 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

whom surely he had never seen before now. 
The months that had worked such a change in 
Sundari seemed to have left her father quite un 
touched. He was the same father, but she was a 
transformed Sundari. But was he the same ? In 
outward appearance, yes ; but the grace of God 
had been at work in his heart, and the inward 
man had become so transformed, that he too, 
was a new creation in Christ Jesus his Lord, and 
as Sundari and her father met once again after 
their long months of separation with them both, 
old things had passed away forever, and all things 
had become new. 

Lingappa remained in the mission compound 
for a fortnight, and while there learned much that 
pertains to the Christian life. He attended the 
services in the mission chapel, he learned to pray, 
and to worship the Living and True God in sin 
cerity and in truth. He became the possessor 
of a New Testament in his own sweet language, 
and the knowledge of reading that he had ob 
tained when attending the heathen pial school at 
Lingapura, now stood him in good stead, and he 
was able to read for himself the things relating 
to Christ and His Kingdom. 

A fortnight of Christian companionship had 
worked wonders too, in his outward appearance. 
When he was washed and shaved, and arrayed 
in a clean loin cloth and a white jacket, he 
looked as much a new man outwardly, as he gave 
signs of the new birth inwardly. 



Sundari s Father 285 

It was Sunday morning, and he had been to 
the early morning service. At the close of it he 
had seen a whole family of villagers receive the 
rite of Christian baptism. He had heard the 
questions asked by Mr. Burton, and the unfalter 
ing confession made by the three grown-up 
members of the family, of their renunciation of 
idolatry, and of their faith in Jesus Christ the 
well-beloved Son of God, and their Saviour. 
The whole service had made a great impression 
upon him, and had opened a new train of thought 
for him. 

Paulappa, one of the catechists belonging to 
the mission, had heard Lingappa s story from Mr. 
Burton, and becoming interested in him, asked 
him to share his midday meal that Sunday, and 
this gave Lingappa an opportunity of asking 
many questions with regard to the ceremony he 
had witnessed in the church. Paulappa too, was 
glad to be able to instruct him further in regard 
to things belonging to the Christian life, and the 
meaning of the baptismal ceremony. When 
Lingappa fully understood that baptism was an 
outward sign by which those who received it 
testified their faith in the finished work of Jesus 
Christ, he was anxious to start off at once, and 
beg Mr. Burton to call together the whole Chris 
tian Church in Ballapura, and before the assem 
bled community bestow upon him the outward 
and visible sign of the inward grace that was at 
work in his life and heart. But Paulappa re- 



286 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

strained him, and explained that it would be 
much better for him to wait at least a year, and 
so become quite settled in his principles before 
submitting to a rite that in proclaiming him a 
Christian would also brand him as an outcast 
from all his friends and relatives who were still 
members of the Hindu community. 

Mr. Burton had just returned from the English 
service which he conducted in the cantonment 
chiefly for the benefit of the soldiers stationed in 
Ballapura, and was enjoying the stillness of the 
starlit night as he lay stretched full length in a 
rattan chair out in the compound when a warn 
ing cough, and a rustling amongst the Cretan 
leaves proclaimed the fact that he was not alone, 
and in a few minutes Lingappa was sitting tailor 
fashion on a mat in front of him, and was be 
ginning one of the delightful talks that his soul 
revelled in. 

" Oh Dhorai ! I have eaten your rice, and 
worn your clothes since the full moon of March, 
and now to lighten the darkness of the night, 
only the bright stars shine overhead." 

" Yes, Lingappa, that is true, but hungry men 
must be fed." 

" O my father, I am strong. I can work. To 
morrow, I will return to my own village, and do 
the work I have been accustomed to, since I 
was a little boy by my father s side." 

" It is a very good thought, Lingappa," inter 
polated Mr. Burton, for he could see by the ex- 



Sundari s Father 287 

pression of the man s face, something more was 
working in his mind. 

" To-morrow I will go, but before I go, I want 
to be known as a Christian. I want a new name, 
and a new sign in my life like the people re 
ceived this morning. I left my village in the 
early morning, just as the darkness of night was 
fleeing before the first streaks of dawning light in 
the East. Darkness was in my soul, fear in my 
heart, and heavy chains of sin bound me a 
prisoner at the feet of thousands of evil spirits ; 
but as the dawn chases away the darkness of 
night, and the sunlight dispels the grey mists of 
early morning flooding the whole land with 
brilliant sunshine, so Jesus, the Rest-giver, the 
Good Shepherd has dispelled the darkness of my 
soul, has chased away the fear that held me in its 
deadly grip, and has broken the chains of sin. 
Jesus first brought the dawn of a new hope into 
my life, and now the dawn has expanded into 
morning light. Jesus has come to me. The 
beams of His love are around me. He is my 
light. The darkness has passed." 

Mr. Burton listened in amazement, and did not 
at once speak, for lack of words in which to 
reply to Lingappa s Oriental method of expres 
sion, and he, quick to note the pause, took up 
his theme again. 

" To-morrow I will go back. I will tell my 
friends and neighbours of all I have learned. I 
will live for Jesus in Lingapura till the Dhorai 



288 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

can send a teacher who will be like the full moon 
shining in all her brilliancy on a clear night. 
Till the moon arises I will be as the faintest, 
smallest star shining for Jesus in dark Linga- 
pura." 

Lingappa seemed so full of his purpose that 
his baptism was not again mentioned, and Mr. 
Burton did not refer to it himself, as he felt the 
man needed a testing time. 

He was not anxious to have a long list of con 
verts to total up year by year, but he did desire 
above all things to know of the steadfast life of 
those who professed to be followers of the Lord, 
and so he always arranged for a term of proba 
tion for the many who came forward and desired 
Christian baptism. 

The next morning Mr. Burton, Hilda, Paulappa 
the catechist, Sundari, and her father met 
together in the missionary s study, and with one 
accord they bowed in prayer before the Loving 
Father, to commit Lingappa to His gracious 
keeping ere he set out to take up his mission in 
Lingapura. With true devotion, the natives 
prostrated themselves with their faces touching 
the ground, and one after another the prayers 
ascended on behalf of the one who was going 
forth alone to new and untried experiences. 

It was eight miles to Lingapura, and so Mr. 
Burton arranged that Lingappa should travel 
half the distance by cart. When the prayer- 
meeting adjourned, the cart stood in front of the 



Sundari s Father 



289 



bungalow with the bright morning sunlight 
penetrating every corner of it, and Lingappa 
with sunshine in his heart and on his face 
stepped in, and was driven off amid the hearty 
good wishes of the missionaries, and the little 
knot of natives who had gathered together to 
wish him Godspeed. 

When the bullock cart was well out of sight, 
Mr. Burton opened a small packet that Lingappa 
had begged him to accept at parting, and within 
the folds of the paper he saw the dirty, well 
worn strands of a sacred thread, the most pre 
cious possession of a twice born caste man. 

He showed it to Miss Roi, and said, " Lingappa 
is in earnest. By this sign he means to say he 
has completely severed himself from his heathen 
associations." 



XXVIII 

DAWN IN LINGAPURA 

THE next two years passed rapidly by. 
The threatened famine dealt more lightly 
with the district of Ballapura than it did 
with the Northwest Provinces, and the third 
season the usual Monsoon brought rain in abun 
dance. The brave little water holes, that had 
held out so gallantly during the failure of the 
rains, modestly retired before the inrush of the 
flooded rivers. The wells filled up, grain was 
being sold in the bazaars at normal prices, and 
the disasters that followed the eventful Dipavali 
festival when Lakshmi was credited with hiding 
her face from her devotees, were almost for 
gotten except by the few who had suffered most 
keenly at the time. Only a heap of blackened 
ruins remained to tell the tale of the wealthy 
Abdallah s grain store, for that gentleman had 
never returned to Ballapura, after his hasty flight 
on the day of Abu Taleb s death. 

It was the fourth day in the month of the 
second December that had come and gone since 
the sunny day on which Lingappa had said 
good-bye to the interested group of friends 
gathered together in Mr. Burton s compound, 
and once more he contemplated setting out on a 
290 



Dawn in Lingapura 291 

short journey, but this time he did not consult 
the village priest. Nor did he look around for 
propitious omens. He did rise with the advent 
of the morning star, and start out almost before 
the first grey streaks of dawn preceded the rising 
sun. There was no vague wonder in his heart, 
and no stealthy glances into dark corners, or 
shrinking away from the shadows cast by the 
idol temples around him, for he knew whither he 
was bound ; and there was gladness in his heart, 
and hope in his life. 

The morning air was cool and invigorating, 
and Lingappa walked with a step of a man, 
strong in body and in soul, and so before the sun 
had gained much power, he was well on his way 
to Ballapura, to have an important interview 
with Miss Roi who expected to see him that 
day ; for Mr. Burton had proved a successful 
advance agent on behalf of Lingappa and had 
whispered a secret concerning him to the lady 
missionary. 

It was pay day for the mission agents, and 
at 9 A. M., many of them were already as 
sembled on the veranda of the mission house, 
to receive the money due to them for their 
month s work, and to pour out to Miss Roi the 
encouraging and the discouraging features con 
nected with schools and pupils, open air work, 
house to house visitation, and the other branches 
of missionary effort in which they were one and 
all engaged. 



292 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

When Lingappa reached the now familiar gate 
leading to the mission compound, there was al 
ready a goodly number of natives gathered 
there. They hailed his arrival with apparent 
pleasure, and soon he was seated amongst them, 
chewing his favourite betel while he listened to 
the talk around him and occasionally added his 
quota to the general conversation that was going 
on. 

Once he raised his turban and accidentally re 
vealed the fact that his hair was cut in European 
style. Nor were those around him slow to note 
the change. At once a volley of questions as 
sailed him, and the sound of the excited voices 
on the veranda penetrated to Hilda in her 
study where she was receiving the workers one 
by one. Lingappa smiled comfortably, with 
just a touch around his mouth of that humour 
which brought out strongly the resemblance be 
tween himself and Sundari. Then he coughed 
comfortably too, for somehow he felt he had 
scored a point above some of his native com 
panions who still clung to the tuft of long hair 
hanging from the crown of their heads. The 
cough cleared his throat sufficiently for him to 
begin to tell them why he had decided to part 
with his hair. 

" My friends, you all know how it has been with 
me in Lingapura, since I renounced my heathen 
practices, and turned to the Lord of Light and 
Love and more especially since last hot weather 



Dawn in Lingapura 293 

when I was baptized, and my fellow caste men 
knew I was proud, yes and thankful too, to be 
openly known as a Christian. Up till the time 
of my baptism they tolerated all the new ideas 
I had received ; they let me do the village work, 
and were kind to me in many ways : they even 
listened to all I had to tell them of the New and 
Living Way, but after my baptism they turned 
against me, they persecuted me, they cursed me, 
and sought by all means in their power to drive 
me out of Lingapura." 

" What has that to do with having your hair 
cut like the Dhorai s, O Lingappa ? " asked some 
one impatient to hear an explanation of such an 
unusual proceeding. 

" My friend, listen with patience. I am com 
ing to that point in due course. The poojaris 
were especially bitter, and I know they turned 
into enemies those who were inclined to be my 
friends. The dhobi would not do my washing. 
The sweeper refused to come near the house. 
The people openly cursed me, and threw stones 
at me when I went to the well for my daily 
water ; for I had to go myself as no one would 
draw any for me. Then the barber would not 
shave me, and many a time I thought I should 
have to leave Lingapura, and seek employment 
amongst the Christians of Ballapura; but I did 
want to be a little light in that dark place, and 
so I prayed earnestly day by day, and stayed on 
always hoping in God who never failed me in all 



294 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

my trials. By His grace I overcame many of the 
difficulties, and now every day some of the men 
come to my pial, and listen to the reading of the 
Holy Word, and when the Missyamma and the 
Bible women come out each week, the women 
gather round her, and are glad to learn of Jesus. 
Chikka Basamma carries water for me every day, 
and often cooks my rice, and " 

" Who cut your hair, O friend Lingappa ? " in 
terrupted a young catechist who had just re 
turned from the training school in Bangalore. 

" Oh, yes, my hair, I was forgetting it. Well 
it was like this. When the poojaris persuaded 
the barber I was possessed with an evil spirit 
which would enter him if he shaved me, I knew 
I must try and do it myself, so whenever I had 
the chance I used to loiter round the tree where 
he carried on his business, and I tried thus to 
learn the secret of his trade. Then I bought a 
barber s bag in the bazaar at Ballapura, and one 
day I began to shave myself. With a few cuts I 
managed my chin very well, but when I got to 
the top of my head it was not so easy, and I be 
gan carving out patterns as though I were han 
dling a piece of wood. 

" The back of my head, I could not manage at 
all. O, friends, to shave the back of your head 
is the hardest piece of work a man ever had to 
do." His listeners were silent and sympathetic, 
appreciating fully the evident emotion with which 
Lingappa made the last statement. 



Dawn in Lingapura 295" 

" Well, I had to give it up that day, and when 
the villagers saw me with my cut face, and the 
hair still growing at the back of my head, they 
laughed and jeered and mocked, and advised me 
to pray to my new God to send me a barber. 

" While they were thus seeking to make my 
life a misery to me, I remembered the looking- 
glasses I had seen in the Dhorai s house, and I 
thought if I had a glass that would show the 
back of my head I could surely shave that too. 
Then I walked into Ballapura, and told the 
Dhorai my trouble, and asked if he could get 
me some looking-glasses. The Dhorai laughed 
kindly at my forlorn half shaved condition, and 
took from his drawer some sharp scissors and a 
razor, and shaved me himself." 

" Bravo, bravo, well done," clapped Lingappa s 
hearers. 

" When I went back to Lingapura, the people 
were astonished to see me shaved far better than 
the village barber could have done me," con 
tinued Lingappa with conscious pride, " and the 
next week Burton Dhorai sent me eight little 
looking-glasses that had come from Bangalore. 
These I fixed up round my room, and after a 
good many attempts and failures I succeeded in 
shaving my head all round. But it took me a 
long time, and I always had pains in my neck 
after twisting about so much, and at last I re 
solved to be done with the troublesome business, 
so I cut off my topknot, and now I shall never 



296 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

shave my head again," and as he concluded his 
story he took off his turban once more to show 
the admiring group around him a well shaped 
head with its crown no longer disfigured with the 
long hair twisted into a kind of knotted curl that 
is the joy and pride of every Hindu s heart. 

While he talked on, one and another had been 
in and out of Miss Roi s study, and had gone 
away with heavier money bags and lighter hearts 
because of the sympathy and helpful counsel that 
had been extended to them. 

At last all had been paid, and the workers had 
assembled for their monthly consecration meet 
ing of prayer and praise. Then all had sepa 
rated, and only Lingappa with his well grown 
daughter Sundari remained on the verandah. 

Hilda smiled at them, and said they might 
have their talk together while she had her break 
fast. After which she would be ready for a chat 
with Lingappa herself. 

Sundari had stayed on in the school while her 
father had bravely faced his life amongst the 
heathen opposition of Lingapura, and while 
there, she had made the most of her opportuni 
ties for her studies, and had just made a very 
creditable pass in the third standard. She was a 
general favourite amongst her school compan 
ions, perhaps because she was such a willing 
worker both in the cook room, and in carrying 
the water from the deep well in the compound. 
But better than all, she had definitely made 



Dawn in Lingapura 297 

choice of the Christian life, and had yielded her 
heart to the power of the Holy Spirit. 

Standing side by side with her father she had 
received Christian baptism, and with him, too, 
she had confessed her faith in, and love for her 
Saviour, and had been publicly received as a 
member of the native Christian Church in Balla- 
pura. 

She and Nilamma had become fast friends, and 
together they often talked over their strong de 
sire to become workers for God. She would 
never forget her experiences in Abu Taleb s 
harem, and over and over again she declared her 
determination to be like Ruth, the Bible woman, 
a messenger of the Lord s to go in and out 
amongst her own country women, and if possible 
also, amongst the women of Rokaia s faith, to 
carry the good news of deliverance from the 
power of sin through the merits of the Lord 
Jesus Christ. 

Lingappa was not ignorant of Sundari s de 
sires, and his heart thrilled with joy every time 
they talked over the blessedness of being the 
servant of God. He shared with her the hopeful 
looking forward to the time when she should be 
old enough to leave school, and to commence to 
work in the village where she had been born. 

As often as they met, they reverted to the 
same pleasant theme, first with regard to Sun 
dari s own aspirations, and then concerning 
Nilamma s most cherished plans that she too 



298 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

should become a teacher. While Hilda Roi sat 
at her solitary breakfast, and afterwards took a 
hurried glance through her daily letters, the 
father and daughter talking together at one end 
of the veranda became so engrossed in the dis 
cussion of their usual topic, that they did not 
notice the flight of time, and Lingappa arose 
rather unprepared to respond to the bhoy s sum 
mons, calling him into Miss Roi s study. 

It took him almost an hour to reach the point 
of his visit, and it was only when Hilda intimated 
it was time to go he said, 

" The season has been a good one. The lime 
trees flourish, and my garden is still left to me. 
True the buffaloes are gone, but what of that ? " 

" You are much happier in Lingapura, are you 
not?" 

" Yes, the opposition has almost ceased. If I 
had a wife," and he cast his eyes on the ground 
becomingly, " she could do much work for the 
Lord amongst the women of our village." 

" I wish we had some one who could take up 
regular work there." 

" The Missyamma is happy. She has so many 
young females to call her mother. They can 
cook rice and carry water ; they can clean the 
house, and they have been to school, and learned 
to read and write." 

" Yes, O Lingappa ; I am indeed happy, but 
my children are all still young, and only learning 
to do all these things." 



Dawn in Lingapura 299 

" Yet, the Missyamma must have a few well 
grown girls ? " 

" True, there are three or four growing up now, 
but to me, they seem still only children needing 
a mother s care." 

Lingappa prefaced his answer with a long- 
drawn sigh. " I am a poor man. I have no one to 
cook my rice. No one to clean my house. No 
one to call me master," he said in a tone of self- 
pity which changed into one of delicate insinua 
tion as he continued, 

" I suppose the Missyamma could not spare 
one of her daughters to cook a poor man s 
rice." 

"That quite depends, Lingappa, upon whom 
the poor man is, and which of my daughters he 
wants." 

After that the way was easy for Lingappa to 
discuss the question of his marriage with one of 
the Christian girls from the mission home. 

He declared he had no choice in the matter. 
Whichever one Hilda could spare the best, he 
would gladly receive ; but when one or two names 
of eligible girls were mentioned to him, he put 
them on -one side in such a way that Hilda saw 
very clearly some special one had attracted 
him. 

" Sundari has a friend in the school a good 
girl. She wants to be a teacher. Can she cook, 
and carry water ? " 

Hilda gave a little gasp as she realized Ling- 



300 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

appa s thoughts were hovering around her be 
loved Nilamma. 

At the close of another half hour s conversa 
tion, Lingappa became much more definite, and 
said positively that he wanted Nilamma for his 
wife, but would give way in deference to the 
Missyamma, and take another one instead if 
Missyamma so willed it. 

But the Missyamma had become used to such 
proposals of marriage, and was by no means in 
clined to take upon herself the responsibility of 
substituting another in place of Lingappa s de 
cided choice, and so she parted from him at last 
with the promise that she would have a few quiet 
words with Nilamma concerning him. 

As he walked homewards that night, glad in the 
hope of once more having a wife in his home, 
Nilamma stood in the missionary s study listen 
ing with downcast eyes, nervously twitching fin 
gers, and beating heart to the surprising news 
that Lingappa, Sundari s father had asked for her 
in marriage. Neither by word nor sign did she 
betray her own feelings in the matter, but with 
due maidenly propriety signified her desire to do 
exactly as the Missyamma wished her to. 

" Oh no, my Nilamma, I cannot decide such an 
important question for you. You must make up 
your own mind on this occasion, and give a very 
decided yes, or an equally decided no, to our 
friend Lingappa," said Hilda in reply to Nilam- 
ma s vague words of partial assent, and then she 



Dawn in Lingapura 301 

proceeded to tell her all she knew for and against 
the prospective husband, but it all sounded very 
cold and formal to her loving English heart, 
and she longed to assure the pretty little native 
girl that there must be some love on Lingappa s 
part, but he certainly had not mentioned any such 
sentiment. 

He wanted some one to cook his rice, carry 
his water, and clean his house, so he had said, 
but Hilda believed in her own power at read 
ing hearts, and she felt certain Lingappa s eyes 
had betrayed a deeper feeling when he had so 
cleverly turned the discussion round to Nilamma, 
Sundari s dearest friend ; and so she ventured to 
say, " I believe he cares very much for you, dear 
Nilamma, and I am sure he will be good to you. 
Think about it, pray over it, and come back in a 
week s time and tell me what answer I shall 
give to Sundari s father for you." 

Sundari was hovering about outside, all impa 
tience to know what was keeping Nilamma so 
long in the Missyamma s study, and when Nil 
amma joined her she could not hide her secret 
from the friend and companion of many happy 
days. It was with much shy reserve that Nil 
amma at last yielded to her importunities, and 
when the wonderful news was out Sundari 
clapped her hands with real pleasure and cried, 
" O my Nilamma : that is why my father always 
asks me so many questions about you, and I 
have told him how I love you, and how I want 



302 Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India 

to be so good and kind like you are. O Nilamma, 
my Nilamma, say yes, say yes." 

In due course, Nilamma did say " Yes," and 
she has never had reason to regret her decision, 
for she has proved Lingappa to be a true Chris 
tian companion in the walk of life. She rests in 
the love of her husband who is brave in endurance, 
true to his convictions, and a loyal servant 
of the Heavenly Master whom she herself truly 
loves. 





WORKS BY WTTTTATVT 


FT T TOT GRIFFIS, L. H. D. 


A AlAKKR OF THK 


work in his spirit. He 


NEWOBIKNT 


thoroughly understood the 
Oriental and may be re 




garded as the discoverer 


SAMUEL R o u B i N s 


of that quality which has 


BROWN. Pioneer Educa 


been challenged as to its 


tor in China, America, 


existence the "gratitude 


and Japan. The Story of 


of the Oriental*. He led 


his Life and Work, izmo, 


a wonderfully varied and 


illustrated, cloth, net 


busy life as teacher, pas 


jjl.lj. 


tor, missionary in Amer 




ica, China, and Japan. 


The name of Samuel 




Robbins Brown is only 


VEHBECK OF JAPAN, 


too little known by the 
rising generation for it 


A CITIZEN OF No 


must ever hold an impor 
tant place in the history, 


COUNTRY 


not only of missions, but 


A life story of foundation 


of general progress. 
Brown was a pioneer in 


work inaugurated by 
Guido Fridolin Verbeck. 


the instruction of the 


Illustrated, izmo, cloth, 


deaf and dumb, and also 


$1.50. 


of the higher education 




of women as he secured 
the formation of the first 


"As a biography the work 


chartered woman s college 


candid, with subordina 


adopting the standards of 


tion of detail and impres 


the men s colleges. He 
made an almost faultless 


sive massing of essentials. 
Aside, however, from the 


translation of the NewTes- 
tament into Japanese 


interest as a biography 
which attaches to the 


which is still the standard. 


book, the invaluable and 


He stimulated and 
brought to America the 


permanent addition which 
it makes to our literature 


first Chinese students who 
went abroad for an educa 
tion. He raised up many 
pupils who carry on his 


on Japan adds further 
consequence to other im 
portant features of the 
volume," Public Oflnion. 


[FLEMING H. RETELL COMPANY 
NEW TOBK CHICAGO TORONTO 





WORKS OF REV. 
W. L. WATKINSOIST 



STUDIES IN 
CHRISTIAN 
CHARACTER 
WORK AND 
EXPERIENCE 

2 vols. i6mo, cloth. Gilt 
top. Each, $1.00 net. 

" This author has what 
this poor world needs 
vision". Newell Dwigbt 
Hillfs. 

"Mr. Watkinson excels 
in apt illustration of his 
themes, and shows an 
uncommon power of 
drawing fresh and in 
structive lessons from 
familiartexts." TbeOut- 
look. 



THE BANE AND THE 
ANTIDOTE 

JLTSfO OTHEH SEHMOWS 

i2mo, cloth, $1.00 net. 
"He is allegoric, epigram 
matic, magnetic. Full of 
the breath of the breeze 



and the light of the sun 
his sermons are a tonic 
and a stimulant. He 
urges the truth in senten 
ces that tingle and burn. 
Though he has a crisp, 
fresh way of saying things 
he never strives for effect, 
he is never unnatural. 
There is a presence every 
where of an intelligent 
and enthusiastic patriot 
ism." Chicago Stand 
ard. 



THE BLIND SPOT 

AXI) OTHXR KKHMOXS 

i2mo, cloth, $1.00 net. 
Overbrimming with 
literary riches, familiar 
with nature s laboratory, 
whence he draws numer 
ous charming hints and 
emblems; he is a master 
of spiritual appeal, spirit 
ual stimulation and spirit 
ualizing effects. " Metho 
dist Review. 



FLEMING H. RETELL COMPANY 

NEW YORK CHICAGO TORONTO 
LONDON AND EDINBURGH 



^ 

{ 






v 

COLLEGE