Part 71 (1/2)
”That's about what it is, miss,” answered the old seaman.
”Do you think the people are drowned?” I inquired, anxiously.
”Well,” replied Captain Bounce, casting, as I thought, rather a contemptuous glance at me, ”people don't in general live under water, miss.”
[Ill.u.s.tration: CHARLEY'S WELCOME HOME.]
”Perhaps they may have had boats,” I said, meekly. ”Do you think boats could have reached the sh.o.r.e in such a storm?”
”Well,” answered the old captain, ”they might have had boats, and they mightn't; and the boats, supposing they had 'em, might have lived through the storm, and at the same time they mightn't.”
This was not giving me much information, and I thought to myself that my friend the skipper did not seem so much inclined for a chat as usual. I turned to look at the sea in search of more pieces of wreck, when I discovered in the distance a dark speck rising out of the water. I pointed it out to the skipper at once, who took his gla.s.s out of his pocket, and after looking through it for a moment exclaimed,
”There's something floating there, and a man clinging to it, as I'm alive!”
As he spoke my brother-in-law came on deck, and also took a look through the telescope. Then he, the captain and every sailor on board became eager and excited. You would have thought it some dear friend of each whose life was to be saved. The yacht was headed in the direction of the object, the boat was quickly lowered, the captain himself, with four sailors, jumping into it, and in another minute they caught in their arms a poor little exhausted and fainting boy as he dropped from the mast of a large sunken s.h.i.+p. We could now distinguish the tops of all the three masts appearing above the waves, for the sea was not deep, and the s.h.i.+p had settled down in an upright position.
Poor Charley Standish was soon in the cabin of the yacht, and after swallowing some champagne he revived sufficiently to tell us his story. The sunken s.h.i.+p was the ”Melbourne,” bound for Australia, and this was Charley's first voyage as a mids.h.i.+pman on board. During the darkness of the night she had been run into by a large homeward-bound merchantman of the same cla.s.s. She sank within an hour of the collision. In the scramble for the boats Charley thought he had but little chance for finding a place; and as the s.h.i.+p filled and kept sinking deeper in the water, an instinct of self-preservation led him to climb into the rigging. Then up he went, higher and higher, even to the topmast; and at last, when the vessel went down all at once, he found himself, to his inexpressible relief, still above the surface.
What most astonished us all was that a boy so young should have been able to hold on for more than an hour to a slippery mast, exposed to the fury of the wind, and within reach, even, of the las.h.i.+ng waves. We sailed home at once to the Isle of Wight, and wrote to the boy's mother, a widow living in London, to tell her of his safety. The boy himself stayed with us two or three days, until we bought him new clothes, and then went to his mother. Great was her joy when she once more clasped him to her loving heart. My brother-in-law took a great fancy to him. He has watched his career, and seen him at intervals ever since. Charley Standish is now a chief mate on board a great merchantman of the same cla.s.s as the ”Melbourne.”
THE Pa.r.s.eES.
The Pa.r.s.ees are supposed to be descendants of the ancient Persians, who, after the defeat of their King Yezdezerd, the last of the dynasty of Sa.s.san, by the followers of Mohammed, fled to the mountains of Khorasan. On the death of Yezdezerd, they quitted their native land, and putting to sea, were permitted to settle at Sanjan, a place near the sea-coast, between Bombay and Surat, about twenty-four miles south of Damaun.
The Pa.r.s.ees are now chiefly settled in Bombay, numbering about one hundred and fifteen thousand souls, or one fifth of the population.
The most enterprising, in a commercial point of view, of the various races of Bombay, are the Pa.r.s.ees, some of whom are even more wealthy than the most successful of the European merchants. They bear the very highest character for honesty and industry, and are intelligent and benevolent. The late Sir Jamsetjee Jeejeebhoy was a faultless model of a merchant prince, in integrity, enterprise, and munificence. He founded a hospital that bears his name, and made himself conspicuous for his active benevolence up to the day of his death.
Great numbers of the poorer Pa.r.s.ees are clerks in the government offices--a species of service for which they are peculiarly fitted, on account of their attention to business, industry, and general intelligence. Their inclinations are essentially pacific; and such a phenomenon as a Pa.r.s.ee soldier is almost unknown.
The Pa.r.s.ees are alive to the advantage of affording a good education to their children; and among the largest seminaries in the city of Bombay are those belonging to this community. A Pa.r.s.ee school is an interesting sight. The children are decidedly pretty; and as they sit in rows, with glittering, many-colored dresses, and caps and jewels, they look like a gay parterre of flowers.
On account of their peculiar religious belief, the Pa.r.s.ees are known also as ”Fire Wors.h.i.+ppers;” but however great their awe for fire and light, they consider them only as emblems of a higher power. The Pa.r.s.ees pay reverence to two kinds of fire--the Adaran, lawful for the people to behold; and the Behram, which must be seen by none but the chief Dustoor, or priest, and must be screened from the rays of the sun. When required for a new temple, a portion of the sacred fire is procured in a golden censer from Mount Elbourg, near Yezd, where resides the chief pontiff, and where the holy flame is perpetually maintained. The Behram fire is said to have had its origin from the natural bituminous fires on the sh.o.r.es of the Caspian, and to have never been extinguished. It is supposed to be fed with sandal and other precious and aromatic woods, and is kept burning on a silver grating.
The Pa.r.s.ees are the only Eastern nation who abstain from smoking. They do not eat food cooked by a person of another religion, and object to beef and pork.
When a Pa.r.s.ee dies, a dog must be present, as it is supposed to drive away evil spirits, who are on the alert to seize upon the dying man's soul. This precaution is called the _sagdad_, or dog-gaze. One of the chief reasons for the great veneration in which dogs are held by Pa.r.s.ees arises from the tradition that in their emigration from Persia to India their ancestors were, during a dark night, nearly driven upon the sh.o.r.es of Guzerat, and that they were aroused and first warned of their impending danger by the barking of the dogs on board their s.h.i.+ps.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Pa.r.s.eE CHILDREN, BOMBAY.]
When a Pa.r.s.ee dies, the body is dressed in clean, but old clothes, and conveyed to its last resting-place on an iron bier; meat and drink are placed at hand for three days, as during that time the soul is supposed to hover around in the hope of being reunited to its late earthly tenement.
[Ill.u.s.tration: A Pa.r.s.eE.]
The Pa.r.s.ee sepulchres are of so peculiar a character as to merit particular notice. Should any of my readers ever go to Bombay, he will find two of these _dakhmas_, or Temples of Silence, in a secluded part of Malabar Hill, though admittance is denied within the walls enclosing the melancholy structures to aught but Pa.r.s.ees. The interior is fitted up with stages or stories of stone pavement, slanting down to a circular opening, like a well, covered with a grating, into which the bones are swept, after the fowls of the air, the dew, and the sun have deprived them of every particle of flesh.