to pay over ten thousand dollars in gold.
" I can mind you all the better for being large," said the
muni at last ; but the voice trembled that had rung firm and
clear before death and all sorts of terrible dangers, and the
eyes that had never flinched were dimmed with tears.
" I want you to be my elephant, and carry me as the ele-
phants did the men to-day," said Paul at last, clapping his
hands, and starting to his feet.
" I'm hardly big enough for that," said Dhondaram ; " but
I can be your horse. Come you, my Hari-Sahib, get on my
back, and we will go where you will."
And the bare-headed muni, the terror of India, on his
hands and knees went galloping round the bare floor of that
dimly lighted, wretched room, with the pale-faced, blue-eyed,
brown-haired Hari-Paul crowing and laughing and shouting
on his back, his little hands clinging mercilessly to the lock
of long black hair that in Hindu fashion grew from the top of
his horse's head.
It mattered little that he had walked all night with the
boy upon his shoulder, and that he had walked all day in the
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OUR BOYS IN INDIA.
procession : Dhondaram was as wild and happy as Paul. And
yet the boy was not quite happy ; for the very excitement
of the game seemed to bring back to him other hours, — hours
full of sunshine and laughing, — and other surroundings, when
he had not been the Hindu Hari, but —
He tried in vain to catch the dream. It vanished, as it
always had, just as it touched his eyes.
When the sport was ended, Hari, at a loss for something
new, said, —
" Now you must make me dark, just like you, Dhon-
daram."
" I will get something to put on your hands, and let you
see how you like it, my Hari-Sahib," replied the muni. " I
will come back at once, and bring it with me."
He went out, and Paul began to be frightened again
the moment he was alone. He would have followed had he
not found the door locked again. But Dhondaram had only
gone around one corner to a dye-house, where he was sure
he was unknown, and there procured the material with which
he stained the boy's hands and face a delicate brown. They
were not so dark as the muni's, but they were no longer
white ; and Paul was happy. He lay down again, and this
time he was fast asleep in a moment.
He slept soundly. He did not know that the muni, close
to his little brown head, sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning
against the wall, and only half sleeping, anxiously starting up
at every sound ; and that many a time he put his hand out in
the dark to see if all were well with his little god Hari. Near
morning he gently cut off one of the brown curls that clustered
about the boy's head, but it did not disturb him.
When Paul awoke in the morning the room was much
YOU SHALL BE MY HARI-SAHIB.
423
changed. There were two small screens and several mats ;
there was a little fire in a small iron stove that could be
carried about in the hand, burning in one corner, and over it
a woman was cooking the breakfast. She was a Hindu woman,
very delicate and pretty in figure, wearing only a little close-
fitting chouli about her shoul-
ders, that hardly reached her
waist, and a briMit cloth bound
closely about her hips. Her
legs and arms were bare, except
for broad bands of gold and
silver that circled her wrists and
ankles ; and there were large
ear-rings in her ears, and a
little gold star on one side of
her nose. On her toes were
silver rings, that clinked as she
walked on the bare places on
the floor. Beside the fire sat
Dhondaram. Paul knew it was
Dhondaram, for he heard his
voice. But what a change ! A
huge red turban was twisted
about his head in graceful, but
brigandish folds. His beard was shaven off, leaving only a
heavy mustache that looked fiercer than ever. Instead of the
plain muni's frock that was all he had worn, bound at the
waist with a simple girdle, he wore a loose woollen jacket, with
flowing sleeves. An enormous girdle, the same color as his
turban, was wound about his waist ; and he wore a pair of
loose woollen breeches to the knees, and a pair of heavy
DHONDARAM IN AEMOR.
424
OUR BOYS IN INDIA.
sandals on his feet. Leaning against the wall behind him was
a sword almost five feet long.
Dhondaram and the woman were enp-ao-ed in earnest
conversation in a low tone, but Paul could distinctly hear and
understand most of what they said,
"Why should I defile myself?" muttered the woman.
"Am I not a Bramhan woman? Are you not a Bramhan ?
Am I not desolate -that you wander as you do ? Do I not
die every day, till the wind is ever in my bones ? Am I not
cursed by the breath that I breathe, and the food that I eat ?
Have I not already defiled myself a thousand times, till my
penance and purification keep me the day long, and the
voice of the mother speaks feebly now. and sometimes not
at all ? When will this wandering cease, Dhondaram ? When
will these wild ideas of yours have rest ? The boy is well
enough. I wish him no ill. I would do him no ill. I would
injure no one. I hate no one except the ones you hate, and
who have injured you. But why, in ^he blissful moment when
the gods and the mother smile upon me, and place the rose
in my bosom, the attar on my hair ; when the star is once
more in my heaven, and the breath again in my body ; when
I can cook the food that Dhondaram eats, and fan Dhondaram
while he eats it ; when I live again, O jewel of my crown of
joy ! — why ask me to die in this hour, and defile myself again ?
And yet I will do it. Yes, I will feed and bathe the . Feringhi.
Yes, I will care for him. Yes, by the mother, on the neck
of my daughter Gunga, I swear I would nurse a pariah upon
my breast if Dhondaram should ask it."
" Dhondaram does not ask it," replied the muni, " Cursed
be the day, and defiled he that breathes in the hour, that
Dhondaram asks any thing of any one. To the viceroy from
YOU SHALL BE MY HARI-SAHIB. 425
England, to the guru, the pundit, the rajah, Dhondaram
speaks ; and cursed is he who forgets to hear. Who will not
tell you so ? Did you not hear the city howling yesterday
with the name of Dhondaram ? It will howl again and again,
till Dhondaram's thirst is quenched. But to you Dhondaram
does not speak. He thinks ; and you read his thoughts, and
do as it pleases you. Who ever bound thy hand ? Thou art
Kashibai. I am Dhondaram. Thou art the holy mother's, and
I am — well, I am Bhowani's too ; but to you she is soft and
gentle ; she is fairest of all the blest in the paradise of Indra :
to me she is blood and death and cruelty. Who am I, that I
should wish you to do what I would do willingly ? No : the
little Feringhi shall go with me."
He turned to Paul ; and, seeino- that he was awake, he
crossed the room, and bendinof over him he asked, —
" Would the little Sahib like to go into the mountains
with me ? "
Paul's lip trembled. He had been frightened by the con-
versation that he had overheard, and by the new costume
that made Dhondaram look so savage. He realized that
the woman did not like to have him there. In fact, though
•he did not know it, he was homesick ; and the name by which
Dhondaram called him was the last straw. He turned over
on the mat, and began to cry.
" Oh, I am not a Feringhi ! I am not a Feringhi ! I am
not ' something different ' ! I wish it were last night," he
sobbed. " Look at my hands, Dhondaram, look ! I am
black. I am like you."
He held up his little hands. The muni caught them, and
pressed them to his forehead.
"It is last night now, and always will be while Dhondaram
426
OUR BOYS IN INDIA.
is free," he responded solemnly. " You are my Hari, my
god of gods, now and always. It is not that I am rich that
you love me. â– I have given you no gold ornaments. I have,
only a little water here with which to bathe you. I will bring
you some breakfast and sweet limes then, and to-night ,we
will start for the mountains."
" I want to see Gunga," said Paul, still sobbing a little.
At four o'clock that afternoon, right through the crowded
streets of Delhi, a Brinjari chieftain walked slowly, with head
erect, and a little Persian boy beside him, affectionately
clinging to his hand. The light brown skin of the Persian
contrasted peculiarly with the darker hue of the Brinjari chief
in his dashing costume ; and many a one, as they passed,
stopped to look at the bright blue eyes that were so peculiar
and unusual, and shuddered at sight of the ugly sword
hanging over the right shoulder of the chief. Many even
stopped the servant who was carrying a large bundle on his
head behind them, to ask him which of the great men of
his people this one was. But he only stared at thern, and
shook his head. Scott would hardly have recognized little
Paul, and no one in all Delhi repeated the name of Dhon-
daram when they saw the chief.
They stopped at a booth in the outskirts of the bazaar ;
and Dhondaram bought a sack of maize meal, and a small
bunch of little red peppers, which the servant added to the
bundle upon his head.
They even walked directly to the English railway-station,
and in the mountain dialect the servant purchased tickets in
the third-class car for Amritsar. Dhondaram and Paul stopped
for a moment before such a notice as Scott saw on the Cash-
mere gate, then took their places in a car already crowded
YOU SHALL BE MY HARL-SAHLB.
427
with natives. They fell back, and gave them more room than
any one else had in the car ; looking suspiciously at the long
sword, but not suspiciously at Dhondaram.
They stopped when within twenty miles of the city.
Dhondaram was perfectly informed about every thing, and
THE CORN-CHANDLER.
knew that a caravan he wished to join had not yet reached
the station.
It was a little lonely country town, on a narrow, rushing
mountain river. Dhondaram, with Paul and his servant,
walked up the bank a little way, and took a native boat, to
be carried to the caravan trail that passed at no great
distance.
As they were about to embark, Paul caught sight of a
little stone figure that looked like a tiny elephant sitting on
428
OUR BOYS IN INDIA.
his haunches, and having fore-feet like his own hands and
arms.
"What is it? what is it?" he asked eagerly, as a native,
bareheaded, came up to the little image, and began to pour
water over it, and to drape it with flowers.
Dhondaram's lips curved scornfully, much as they had
â– >.; -^
^/r
BATHING AN IDOI..
when looking at the image of Kali. He was evidently not
the devout Hindu that many thought him.
"An atom of God," he replied In an undertone. "That
man Is bathing his preserver. He is praying," he said
aloud.
"Do you never pray in that way?" asked Paul: "if you
do, will you teach me ? "
YOU SHALL BE MY HARL-SAHLB. 429
"Why should I pray Hke that?" said the muni. "God
is everywhere. The great essence of Bramha fills all space.
If I would pray to an elephant, it should be to one that God
had made, and not to one that some beggar had manufactured
to earn his bread."
" But I never pray at all, Dhondaram. And now I am
like you, and have a name, and all that ; and I want to learn
to pray. Can't I pray without pounding myself the way you
do ? I tried to do that when I was at the biri wallah's, and
found you were not there ; but it hurt me."
The muni stroked his little hand ; and answered, —
"That was only for the boatmen: 1 was not praying to
God. The great, real Bramha cannot be pleased to see men
hurt themselves. No, no, my Harl ! I know very little : I
am perplexed. Religion is a myth, a folly : God alone is a
reality. There is some way to worship him, but it is not as
I and my people do it. You are little now, but you will know
it all some day ; and when you have found out what God is,
and how he is best worshipped, if Dhondaram is still alive,
you must come back and tell him, and he will kneel at your
feet and worship God, — your God, my Hari."
" How could I come back to you when I am never, never
going away from you, Dhondaram ! " exclaimed Paul. " Teach
me, oh, teach me to pray like you and every one else ! "
They had been floating rapidly down the river, and now
were landed where they had but a short walk over the hills
to the caravan trail. The boat moved away ; and, sending
the servant on ahead, Dhondaram sat upon the ground close
upon the bank of the river, and, drawing Paul to him, said, —
" I will teach you a prayer, little Hari-Sahib, — a prayer
that you will never be told not to say ; and I can show you
430
OUR BOYS IN INDIA.
how to say it. I cannot say it in the language that we are
speaking, but in my own language, the Marathi. You will not
understand it all ; but you can remember it, and know that
you are praying to God."
He bathed his face and hands that he might be clean,
according to his own teaching ; and very slowly he repeated,
and Paul followed him, —
" He amachya Akashantil Bapa, tujhe nam pavitra manile
zavo ; tujhe rajya yevo ; jase akashant tase prithvivarahi tujhya
ichchhepramane hovo ; amachi rozachi bharkar az amhas de ;
ani jase amhi apalya rinyas sodato, tase tu amachi rine amhas
sod ; ani amhas parikshent neu nako, tar amhas waitapasun
sodiv ; kaki rajya ani parakram ani mahima hi sarvakal tujhi
ahet. Amen."
Over and over again they went through the prayer, till Paul
could repeat it almost without a mistake, kneeling by the
muni's side, and closing his brown hands before his breast.
Then suddenly they heard the voice of the servant calling
from the top of the hill, that the caravan was already in sight ;
and taking Paul on his shoulder, Dhondaram hurried on.
Reaching the point where the servant stood, they could
see a dense cloud of dust rising in the plain beyond ; and
through it they could discern horses and camels, and a vast
herd of cattle, with men and women and children all about
them. Paul clung more closely to Dhondaram.
"The little Hari must not fear," he said. "They are all
friends of mine there. I feared they would not be here so
soon. We shall go a little way with them, for they have
news for me ; and you need not be tired any more, for
while we are with them you shall ride upon a fine horse, and
the servant here will ride behind you to hold you fast."
YOU SHALL BE MY HARI-SAHIB. 431
" I would rather ride here on your shoulder," said Paul.
" You will have plenty of chances for this, Hari-Sahib,
when we cannot find a horse."
Several of the leaders now came rapidly riding up to
Dhondaram. They had no difficulty in recognizing him, and,
dismounting, made very low salaams, as though he were a ruler
among them.
Hastily directing his servant to mount one of the horses
that those before him had brought up, he placed Paul before
him, and gave the bundle to one of the soldiers of the cara-
van who now reached them. Then he pressed Paul's hand to
his forehead, and said, —
" You are safe, little Sahib. You have but to speak, and
they will bring me ; and very soon I shall ride beside you."
Then, turning to the officers, he spoke in a language that
Paul could not understand ; nor could he have heard much,
for the servant immediately drove away with him.
"What news from the Nana?" was what Dhondaram
asked ; and the officer replied, —
" He is still in danger : the wound mends slowly. He
much fears that he may die before the work is completed."
" Send him word from me at once," said Dhondaram,
" that only one of the condemned remains alive. Tell him
that this one is now in these mountains ; tell him that I have
a magnet that is drawing him toward me, and that he shall
hear of his death in less than a month. Tell him to recover ;
but if he dies, tell him to die in peace : Dhondaram has
fulfilled the vow."
He turned abruptly ; and, mounting another of the horses,
evidently caring little how the fellows who had come up on
them disposed of themselves, he rode on, and a moment later
was beside little Paul.
432
OUR BOYS IN INDIA.
The men in the caravan were generally dressed much like
Dhondaram ; and the women often wore long pointed orna-
ments on their heads, to which their veils, or saris, were
attached. Several of them had little naked children in their
arms, and there were other children riding like Paul. Paul
noticed that the cows all had curious saddles, and each one
was laden with a small burden. Before the whole walked an
immense bull, a stately fel-
low, without a burden ex-
cept a garland of flowers.
Some of the merchants
travelling with the caravan
were most elaborately dec-
orated. Their packs were
on their camels' backs, —
sometimes silk and costly
cashmeres, sometimes
precious stones or oils.
They often had servants,
and some of them a few
private soldiers with them.
They were often rolled up
in limitless folds of cloth, over head and all, and always carried
on their shoulders a long-barrelled and richly ornamented gun.
A half hour before twilight the stately bull seemed to be
examining the sun. It was round and red. Very soon he
stopped, and began to eat the grass that grew abundantly in
the valley. Then all the natives along the line, in their scanty
costumes and with long blunt spears, who had been keeping
the cows in motion when they would have stopped to eat,
drove them together, and removed the saddles, letting them
THE MERCHANT.
YOU SHALL BE MY HARI-SAHIB.
433
wander where they would. The horses were tethered by ropes
from their necks to their fore-ankle. Here and there Paul
noticed a man go a little way apart from the rest. They
were Mussulmans, — though Paul did not know what that had
THE DAY'S MAKCH THKOUGH THE MOUNTAINS.
to do with it, — and, dismounting from their camels, before
they set them free they knelt beside them in prayer. They
spread little mats upon the ground, and, taking off their
shoes, stood erect, placing their thumbs to their ears, and
opening their hands so that the psjms were presented toward
434
OUR BOYS IN INDIA.
Mecca : thus they began the prayer. Then they folded their
hands upon their breasts, and with their heads bowed they
prayed again ; then placed their hands upon their knees ; then
knelt, with their hands still on their knees, and continued.
After this they laid their hands upon the ground, and touched
their foreheads several times to the earth.
"That's another kind of praying, isn't it?" asked Paul,
who, with Dhondaram, sat upon a little rug eating the food
that the servant had prepared for them.
" Yes," replied the muni, with a sneer : " they call it
praying."
"Isn't it so good as mine?" the boy asked earnestly.
" God may hear it ; but, if he does, it is through pity,"
replied the muni, with another sneer.
" See if I can say my prayer," said Paul ; and, without
waiting for an answer, he bathed his face and hands in Hindu
fashion, by turning a little water for the purpose from a basin
before him, and catching it in his hands ; then, kneeling
by Dhondaram's knee, he repeated over and over again the
prayer that the muni had taught him, needing much help,
but every time improving. It became dark while he was
praying, and a few torches and a few large fires were lighted
to keep off the wild beasts.
Suddenly a clear voice sounded from no great distance,
chanting in Hindustani the old, old desert hymn of the Mus-
sulman. Paul understood every word.
"Whoever thou art, whose need is great,
In the name of God, the compassionate
And the merciful one,
For thee I wait."
436
OUR BOYS IN INDIA.
"That's pretty good," said Paul, as It sounded again and
again and again from different parts of the caravan, where
Mussulmans were wrapping themselves up for the night.
"It would be," replied Dhondaram, "if they meant it."
" How are we to sleep?" asked Paul, who noticed for the
first time, that, instead of the sun, it was the moon that was
shining brightly ; and in the moonlight, the plain before them
that had appeared so fresh and green with its grass and little
flowers was now but a barren mass of ragged rocks outlined
against the shadows, and by the moon there seemed to rise
a huge mountain. Paul had not seen it before, and eagerly
asked, —
" Where did that come from, Dhondaram ? "
" It is only a cloud," said the muni, " driven up by cur-
rents of air through the gorges. One sees very curious
things here in the mountains. But we shall have a good
place to sleep. They have prepared a tent for us." And
rising, he took Paul in his arms, dreading even to let him
touch his little feet to the uncertain ground, and carried him
to a low camel's-hair tent, of black and white stripes, under
which they both crept, and where Paul slept as soundly on
the strong arm of Dhondaram as though it had been upon a
soft white pillow in the cottage at Beverly Farms.
The next day the caravan wound up a river-bank. Ragged
mountains rose up almost directly out of the water. Upon
their rocky sides deodars were growing, straight as arrows,
though they were rooted only in clefts of the rocks in almost
perpendicular precipices, and fed only on the dying lichens,
and icy rills from the melting snows up above.
Paul looked long and earnestly at the snowy peaks.
" Where have I ever seen snow before ? " he asked
Dhondaram.
YOU SHALL BE MY HARI-SAHIB.
437
" In your home, Hari-Sahib," he repHed.
"Have I a home?" he asked again. Dhondaram looked
down at him. He was riding now before the muni. The
blue eyes looked up wonderingly,
" You must go to it, my treasure. You shall go to it.
Dhondaram will not keep you."
- , •—'^^—^ji - ^^ -
UP AMONG THE SNOWS.
" But I want you to go, too, Dhondaram. Where is it ?
Is it far from here ? " asked Paul.
"Far?" the muni laughed. "Far? Yes: it is far from
here." There was a strange tremor in his voice : it was very
unnatural. Paul said suddenly, —
"But you will go, Dhondaram? You must go. Where
is it?"
" You shall know before long. You shall know all about
438
OUR BOYS IN INDIA.
it," remarked the muni sadly ; " and you will not forget old
Dhondaram. No, you will not forget him."
Paul threw one arm around the muni's neck : tears filled
the clear blue eyes, and ran down over the brown cheeks.
They were not so brown as at first. The dye was not lasting,
and was wearino- off. Dhondaram would not have renewed
THE GOLDEN TEMPLE.
it for the world. His treasure was the pale-faced boy. There
were tears, too, in the muni's eyes.
When they reached Amritsar they only remained to visit
the beautiful golden temple, in the centre of the clear, cold
mountain lake, and to exchange a few sentences in a language
that Paul could not understand, with several bands of munis
and pilgrims that were there.
The city was greatly disturbed by notices posted every-
YOU SHALL BE MY HARI-SAHIB.
439
where, stating that the great Guru, or the high priest of the
golden temple, had seen in a vision that his holy father, who
lately died, had been transformed into a fish, and was then
swimming about in the lake. On account of this he forbade
any one, under penalty of death, to catch a fish in the lake.
The greater part of the population of the city was composed
of poor or pilgrims, who depended chiefly upon the fish in
the lake for food, and something like starvation stared them
in the face. But Paul cared very little for Amritsar or the
mandate, as he held fast to the muni's hand, and looked only
into his face.
It produced no effect on the boy when the muni said to
him, " We must go to Massuri : it is a hard journey, but we
will make it easy for the little Hari-Sahib," any more than it
would if he had said " We will go to the other end of the
world to-morrow." If Dhondaram only went with him he did
not care.
With a small escort of mountaineers they started into the
defiles, the soldiers taking the lead and bringing up the rear.
Sometimes the way led through beautiful valleys, with
lovely flowers, and giant trees, and roaring mountain streams,
with little bridges across them that were composed simply of
branches of birch-trees twisted together ; and they would sag
and bend and tremble when they were on them. But Paul
clasped the muni's hand so much the closer, and followed
where he led, only keeping quiet when he was frightened, and
laughing when he was not.
His face and hands became quite white again ; and he
asked to have them once more colored, "With a black that
will go all over me, and last till I am a great man like
you."
440
OUR BOYS IN INDIA.
But the muni only assured him that he had no more of