Part 16 (1/2)
Two or three men volunteered to do this, and they bore him out as Prem Sagar had ordered, and cast him on the roadside without the temple-gates; and he, to whom day and night were to be henceforth ever the same, lay there moaning in the dust.
Late that morning certain pilgrims returning to their houses found him there, and, being pitiful, offered to guide him back. It is said that the first question he asked was, ”When will it be daylight?” And a Dogra of the hills answered bluntly, ”Fool, thou art blind”; whereat the Sansi lapsed into a stony silence, and was led away like a child.
In the tribe of the Sansis, who wander from Tajawala to Jagadhri where the bra.s.s-workers are, and from Jagadhri to Karnal, is a blind madman who bears on his scarred face the impress of a hand. It is said that he can cure all diseases at will, for he is the only man living who has stood face to face with a G.o.d.
THE FOOT OF GAUTAMA
The _Gregory Gasper_, or, as the Lascars insisted on calling her, the _Gir Giri Gaspa_, bound from Calcutta to Rangoon and the Straits, had injured her machinery, and was now going, as it were, on one leg, and going very lamely, across the Bay of Bengal. We had got into a dead calm. The sea and the sky fused into each other in the horizon, and the water around us was as molten gla.s.s, parting sluggishly before the bows of the s.h.i.+p, instead of dancing back in a creamy foam.
”By Jove!” said Sladen, as he leaned over the side and watched the lazy brown swell lounge backward from our course, ”this is a dirty bit of water: that wave should have had a white head to it. I believe we've got into a sea of flat beer.”
”We've got to go to Rangoon for hospital, and this is the out.w.a.ter of the Irawadi,” said a pa.s.senger from his seat. ”We can't be more than sixty miles from the coast, and an Irawadi flood shoots its slime out quite as far as that.”
”I prefer to think it's flat ale. It's too hot to go into physical geography, Burgess”; and Sladen, flinging the half-burnt stump of his cheroot overboard, joined us who sat in torpid silence. The heat was intense. We had tried every known way to kill time, and failed.
The small excitement of the morning, caused by a shoal of turtles drifting by solemnly, had pa.s.sed. They looked like so many inverted earthen pots in the water, and we had wasted about fifty of the s.h.i.+p's snider cartridges on them, until, finally, they floated out of range and sight, unhurt and safe. Then an Indian Marine vessel pa.s.sed us in the offing, and there was a hot discussion between Sladen and myself whether it was the _Warren Hastings_ or the _Lord Clive_. We appealed to the captain, who, being a member of the Royal Naval Reserve, looked with profound scorn on the Indian Marine. He scarcely deigned to glance at the s.h.i.+p as he grunted out:
”Oh, it's one of those d.a.m.ned c.o.c.kroach navy boats: it's that old tub the _Lord Clive_,” and he walked off to the bridge. Ten minutes afterwards we lost the grey sides of the old tub in the grey of the sea, and a dark line of smoke running from east to west was the only sign of the _Lord Clive_, as she steamed through the dead calm at fourteen knots an hour. Then we tried nap, we adventured at loo, and we bluffed at poker. There was no balm in them, and Sladen twice held a flush sequence of hearts. Therefore we sat moody and silent, some of us too sleepy even to smoke.
It was at this moment that the skipper rejoined us, and behind him came his stout Madra.s.see butler, with a tray full of long gla.s.ses, in which the ice c.h.i.n.ked pleasantly.
”Drink, boys!” he said, settling himself in the special chair reserved for him. ”It's the chief's watch, and I've brought you a particular brew, as you seem dull and lonesome, so to speak.”
It was a particular brew, and we sucked at it lovingly through the long amber straws.
”Ha!” said the skipper, ”I thought that would stiffen your backbones.
Phew! it is hot!” and he mopped his face with a huge handkerchief.
Sladen burst out: ”We've got absolutely on the hump. Somebody do something to kill time. Can't some of you fellows tell a story? Any lie will do! Come, Captain!”
”No, no!” said the skipper. ”I'm the senior officer here, and speak last. Here's Mr. Burgess: he's been in all sorts of uncanny places, and should be able to tell us something. I put the call on him--so heave away.”
Burgess, the man who had spoken about the out.w.a.ter of the Irawadi, leaned back for a moment in his chair, with half-closed eyes. He was a short, squarely built man, very sunburnt, with mouth and chin hidden by the growth of a large moustache and beard. There was nothing particular in his appearance; yet in following his calling--that of an orchid-hunter--he had been to strange places and seen strange things.
Sladen, who knew him well, hinted darkly that he had traversed unknown tracts of country, had hobn.o.bbed with cannibals, and held his life in his hands for the past thirty years.
”You've hit on the very man, Captain,” said Sladen. ”Now, Burgess, tell us how you found the snake-orchid, and sold it to a d.u.c.h.ess for a thousand pounds. You promised to tell me the story one day, you remember?”
”That's too long. I'll tell you a story, however”; and Burgess lifted up his drink, took a pull at it, and, picking up the straw that leaned back in a helpless manner against the edge of the gla.s.s, began twisting it round his fingers as he spoke.
”All this happened many years ago----”
”When flowers and birds could talk,” interrupted the Boy; and Burgess, turning on him, said slowly: ”Flowers and birds can talk _now_. When you are older you will understand.”
The Boy looked down a little abashed, and Burgess continued: ”I am afraid to say how many years ago I first went to Burma. I was as poor as a rat, and things had panned out badly for me. Rangoon then was not the Rangoon of to-day, and the old king Min-Doon Min, who succeeded to the throne after the war, was still almost all-powerful. He was not a bad fellow, and I once did a roaring trade with him at Mandalay: exchanged fifty packets of coloured candles for fifty pigeon's-blood rubies. They had a big illumination at the palace that night, and I only narrowly escaped being made a member of the cabinet. I, however, got the right of travelling through his majesty's dominions, wherever and whenever I pleased; but the chief queen made it a condition that I should supply no more coloured candles. She preferred the rubies; and I fancy old Min-Doon Min must have had a bad time of it, for the queen was as remarkable for her thrift as for her tongue. She was as close as that”--Burgess held up a square brown fist before us, and, as he did so, I noticed the white line of a scar running across it, below the knuckles, from thumb to little finger. He caught my eye resting on it, and laughingly said: ”It's a seal of the kind friends I have in Kinnabalu. But to resume, as the story-books say. All this about Min-Doon is a 'divarsion,' and I'll go back to the point when I found myself first at Rangoon, with all my wardrobe on my back, and a two-dollar bill in my pocket. After drifting about for some time, I got employment in a rice-s.h.i.+pping firm, and set myself to work to learn the language. In about a year I could speak it well, and, having got promotion in the firm, felt myself on the high road to fortune. It was hard work: the boss knew the value of every penny he spent, and took every ounce he could out of his men.”
”Bosses are cut out of the same pattern even now,” murmured the Boy.
”The breed don't seem to improve.”