Part 13 (1/2)

”In this country, great is the tyranny of Temptation, and _there_ is one of the temptations,” gravely announced Salter; ”Rangoon is full of these fascinating _chits_, who have no morals, but are witty, good-tempered and gay. Ma Chit--the name means 'my love'--is said to be irresistible and the prettiest girl in the province; she is Bernhard's housekeeper.”

”His housekeeper!” repeated Shafto; ”why, he told me he lived at the German Club!”

”That may be; but he has a fine house in Kokine. It is not an uncommon situation--that sort of temporary marriage. Ma Chit looks after his interests, rules his household, and makes him comfortable; her people acquiesce. All marriages are easily arranged and easily dissolved among the Burmans. A young man may offer sweets, serenade a girl a few times; if he is acceptable, there's a family dinner, with much chewing of betel nut, and that const.i.tutes the ceremony!”

”What a happy-go-lucky country!” exclaimed Shafto.

”Happy, yes! Lucky, I'm not sure! Well now, don't lose your way; first turn to the right, second to the left, and there is the Strand.

Good night!”

CHAPTER XII

EAST AND WEST

The first and princ.i.p.al sight in Rangoon is the great Shwe Dagon PaG.o.da, and on Sunday afternoon Shafto and his new acquaintance pa.s.sed between the golden lions at its base, and slowly ascended flight after flight of steep brick steps, lined with flower-decked shrines and blocked by dense ma.s.ses of wors.h.i.+ppers, who were swarming up and down.

The temple stands in imposing majesty on a wide platform and dominates the town--in fact, apart from the trade and business element, the PaG.o.da _is_ Rangoon. The splendid edifice is entirely encased in plates of solid gold, and the ”Ti,” which rises from the inverted begging-bowl, is studded with priceless precious stones--emeralds, rubies, sapphires and diamonds--which flash and glitter in the sun.

These have been presented by pious pilgrims from all parts of the province and beyond; for, with the exception of the Caaba at Mecca, no earthly shrine attracts such mult.i.tudes, or receives such generous largesse.

Shafto and his companion having toiled up the steps, worn hollow by millions of feet, halted on the plateau, which was half-covered with little stalls, whose keepers were selling flowers, candles, flags, dolls, and images of Buddha--made in Birmingham. Here were hundreds, nay thousands of joyous gaily-clad wors.h.i.+ppers moving to and fro, a truly brilliant pageant of pa.s.sing life. It was difficult to say which were the more strikingly dressed: the men in brilliant turbans and silk waist cloths, or the women in satin skirts of endless pattern, their chignons wreathed with flowers, wearing a profusion of gold ornaments, and attended by many children.

”Ah, I see you are struck with the spectacle!” said Salter. ”Isn't it an orgy of colour--rose, orange, purple, scarlet? There is nothing more picturesque than a Burmese crowd.”

”Yes, a great show!” rejoined Shafto; ”in gala costume. I can now understand why the national emblem is a peac.o.c.k.”

As they made their way through the throng there was a clanging of melodious gongs and sounds of loud continuous chanting, whilst overhead the far-away sea breeze stirred the bells on the Ti to a silvery tinkle, tinkle.

To Shafto this scene was amazing and impressive; the wonderful golden PaG.o.da with its crown of jewels, the vast mult.i.tudes in many-hued garments, the flowers, fluttering flags, coloured lights, all as it were attuned to the accompaniment of merry voices, sonorous Gregorian chanting, and deep-toned gongs.

And what a labyrinth of shrines! Hours might be spent examining their rich carvings. At one of the princ.i.p.al of these shrines a service was proceeding; to Shafto, it recalled the celebration of ma.s.s in a Roman Catholic chapel, for here were shaven priests intoning prayers on the steps of a decorated altar; here also were incense, lights, and a mult.i.tude of devout people, kneeling, rosary in hand, chanting the responses.

Among the wors.h.i.+ppers Shafto recognised Mee Lay and her cousin Ma Chit, attired in what, no doubt, were their festival toilets. Mee Lay's white jacket was fastened by diamond b.u.t.tons, and large diamonds sparkled in her little brown ears; as for Ma Chit, she was adorned with the national gold necklace, or _dalizan_. In her sleek, black hair were artfully arranged sprigs of scarlet hibiscus, and between her tiny hands, glittering with rings, and uplifted palm to palm, she held a beautiful flower, which, when her devotions were accomplished, she laid upon the shrine with an undulating movement of adoration and grace.

”You see my wife follows her own religion,” remarked Salter, ”and I make no objection. I was brought up as a Baptist, in the very strictest sense of the word. Rosetta, as you already know, is a Roman Catholic; sometimes Mee Lay brings her here; the service and the spectacle are attractive enough, though never so to me. My Nonconformist blood leaves me cold to this sort of display. Mee Lay is a good, religious woman; when you come to think of it, the East is far more devout than the West. She insists that our faith is a mere feeble copy of Buddhism, which had six hundreds years the start of Christianity. There is no doubt that the Buddhists preach most of the moral truths that are to be found in the Gospels, and Buddha was a Deliverer, who taught the necessity of a pure life, of self-denial and unworldliness. He exhorted his disciples to practise every virtue.

But here is the difference between Buddhism and Christianity: Buddha brings a man by a th.o.r.n.y path to the brink of a huge, black chasm, and drops him into annihilation.”

”It seems unsatisfying,” said Shafto. ”Yet, by all accounts, Buddhism is a wonderful religion. I heard a fellow on board s.h.i.+p discussing its code and the extraordinary way in which it has fastened on mankind, and spread. He declared that every fourth human being who came into the world was a Buddhist!”

”So they say,” replied Salter with a careless shrug. ”I doubt if the a.s.sertion would hold water. At the same time Buddha has an enormous number of followers in China, Tibet, India, and Ceylon; they, too, have traditions of a Holy Mother and Child, of a fast in the wilderness, and here, even now, crucifixion is the form of capital punishment.”

”And what do you think about Buddhism in Burma?” inquired Shafto.

”Buddhism will hold its ground, in spite of many converts among the Karens. The Burmans are a sunny, happy people, as you see, who hope for a good time here, and a good time in the worlds to come. They held the same expectations and creed, and wore the same clothes, two thousand years ago; time does not appear to touch them; they are as gay and irresponsible as so many b.u.t.terflies. You know Kipling's lines to Rangoon?”

Before Shafto could reply, Salter quoted in a sonorous monotone:

'Hail, Mother! Do they call me rich in trade?