XXXIIIA GLIMPSE OF THE PRIMITIVE
THE miniature Fly Express having crept over the summit now slid down on the other side for a few miles, into Darjeeling. The mountain resort, though upon such high ground, was surrounded by still loftier elevations; a veritable Sanitorium protected on all sides. It contained more buildings of a public nature than the inquisitive Cultus explorers had expected to find; the Sanitorium and bazaar were surrounded by many substantially built structures, generally upon picturesque sites, schools, a convent, villas, bungalows, and here and there native shanties in unexpected nooks and corners. There were valleys within valleys, and hills upon hills; and domiciles were scattered broadcast over the landscape. No time was consumed, however, in gazing around them when they first arrived. The station and bazaar nearby were lively with Nepaulese, Bhootans, Lepchas, members of the hill tribes of Sikhim, inhabitants of the Darjeeling Terai, with a much smaller contingent of English who seemed to be there to keep the rest in order.
The tiny train had hardly come to a stand-still before a Bhootan woman, a fine specimen physically and decidedly noisy in manner, thrust her broad Mongolian visage, with its high cheek bones and slanting eyes, into the little car window where sat Mrs. Cultus. If a demon had suddenly appeared at close quarters and offered to rub noses with Mrs. C. the effect could not have been more startling. The Mongolian, talking and gesticulating and holding a strap in her hand,made it plain to them that she wished to carry their luggage—she was a woman-porter.
Mrs. Cultus, not ordinarily disconcerted by sudden apparitions, was this time fairly taken aback. Aside from the novelty of a woman-porter, her repulsive appearance was disconcerting; the broad cheeks smeared with red pigment and distorted with grimaces seemed to Mrs. Cultus at first glance as more than grotesque, even appalling. Drawing herself up with dignity she gave a piercing look, as if in defiance, only to discover that the Bhootanesque wild grin was intended for a polite smile, and the smile was that of a young girl trying to be serviceable and obliging. Mrs. Cultus burst out laughing, which the Bhootan girl of course mistook for a cordial acceptance of her offered assistance; and forthwith through the window she seized all such loose articles as lay within reach, piling them in a heap on the platform previous to depositing them in her strap which she placed over her forehead and let fall in a loop down her back. Several articles had already disappeared out of the window before Mrs. Cultus grasped the misunderstanding of her own laughter; but when she found the woman was actually doing the heavy work of a porter, and for her personally, Mrs. Cultus’ American ideas about woman’s sphere and woman’s work asserted themselves. As a member of the Ethical-Social Culturist’s-Reversal Association, she must become an impromptu missionary to enter her protest, and even set things right.
“I can’t allow it!†she exclaimed, shaking her head. “Get me a man! a man! why, it’s outrageous! You’re only a young girl!†and Mrs. Cultus turned to look for the Professor who had already gone in search of a man.
The Bhootan damsel grinned once more, as if astonished, then spoke her mind not unlike the historic waiter who “roared it.†“No man!—don’t want a man! I take! I take all! easy!†and proceeded to show how easily she could take all by lifting a huge bundle of travelling rugs, rezais, nearlyas bulky as herself, putting them in the loop of her strap as foundation piece, the smaller heavy things on top, and gave a good grunt of satisfaction when the weight settled on her forehead; and then—smiled again.
Mrs. Cultus, equally practical, at once changed her mind; she concluded it was utterly useless to waste sympathy upon a damsel so eminently qualified to take care of herself; especially since the woman-porter had her own ideas of woman’s sphere, and did not intend to permit any man to take away her trade. If Miss Winchester had been near at the time no doubt she would have been much impressed by the Bhootan grunt of satisfaction for the privilege of carrying luggage; for verily it was a notable addition to her collection.
Such was Mrs. Cultus’ first interview with a specimen of womankind from the immense area of Central Asia, where woman’s rights were already granted after their fashion, and woman’s work performed with a vengeance. Mrs. Cultus little realized that there, in the crowd around her, were not only women-porters, but Thibetan mothers to whom polyandry was no new thing, being in fact a custom of their district. Women who had several husbands because they were the proper things to have; and felt themselves quite equal to do man’s work and a little more, besides. Mrs. Cultus learned this and other items, when a few days later she noticed a pair of rough sandal-boots standing at the door of a hut occupied by a polyandrist household. She was informed that these were equivalent to a notice left outside by one of the husbands that he was on the premises, therefore for the present the others had best keep away. Mrs. Cultus learned, too, that the several husbands were often brothers, hence the household was a more united family than if it were otherwise. Mrs. Cultus was obtaining a realizing sense of relationships among some of the primitives yet upon the earth, and she soon concluded that the more primitive the people the less she personally cared to visit them socially.