The Pariah.
CHAPTER I.
One morning a poor Pariah was seated at the door of his miserable hovel in a solitary spot not far from the bank of a river. He was in a state of the saddest destitution. Famine had ravaged the district. Thousands of his countrymen had died around him, and he expected every moment a similar doom. His wife was lying with a baby at her breast in a corner of the hut, unable to rise from exhaustion. Food indeed was to be purchased at the neighbouring town, but he had no money, and no one in the bazaar would sell food to a Pariah. He made up his mind to die. For days he tasted nothing but the roots of a few shrubs which grew sparingly upon the river’s bank. The whole of that morning he had followed a drove of oxen, and collected their dung in order to obtain the few grains of gram[24]which it might chance to contain. Having washed the ordure, after a hard morning’s labour he obtained about a handful of grain, which he boiled and gave to his wife. He had himself fasted since the previous day. His wife was a young creature, not yet fifteen, though the mother of three children. He loved her with a fondness as ardent as it was merited, and this fondness was now greatly enhanced by the sad circumstances to which they and their children were likely to become victims.
The unhappy husband gazed upon the waters of the river as they flowed solemnly onward, his mind absorbed in his own intense distress. “What is there,” he thought, “in this world to render lifedesirable? Is it not one continued scene of privation to the despised Pariah? Is he not an outcast from every human community but that degraded race of which he is a member? May he not be struck dead if he but cross the path of a Brahmin? If the hand of tyranny is raised to strike, dare he lift up his to ward off the stroke? If his shadow pass over the ground upon which the feet of holy men are treading, is it not pronounced accursed, and he doomed to expiate the fearful penalty of having cast pollution upon the very earth which now denies him sustenance? And yet death is a terrible event. What becomes of the Pariah when the vultures have secured his body, and his bones are reduced to dust? He has no prospect beyond the grave, which shuts him out from all future hope. He has therefore no motive for preserving life, and yet he has a natural dread of losing it. The certainty, however sad, is preferable to the terrible uncertainty that may issue in something worse. The elements of happiness may be found in this world with all its miseries. If I could provide for those around me I should still be comparatively a happy man; I have a wife whom I love, children dear to my heart; could I but give them food, with all this bereavement, I would no longer deplore the condition of a poor Pariah.”
These and similar thoughts passed through the mind of the starving Hindoo as he sat before the door of his hovel, gazing with a vacant expression upon the river. It was here of great breadth and considerable depth. He was at length aroused from his mental absorption by seeing on the other side a horseman riding at full speed towards the bank. He observed the man’s impetuous career, every moment expecting to see him halt; but no—the stranger urged his steed madly onward and plunged into the river. The current, though not turbulent, was rapid, and he was borne down the stream. His horse encumbered with its load—for besides the rider, it had a large pack upon its back—soon began to sink under its burthen. The rider perceiving his peril quitted the saddle and began to swim towards the shore; but he was heavily clad, and the current proved too strong for him.
The horse, released from its encumbrance, rose gallantly above the waters, and succeeded in reaching the bank. The man was soon in extreme danger; he could scarcely keep his head above the surface; his struggles were desperate, but it was evident they could not last much longer. His stomach was already filled with water—his eyes were becoming dim—his senses fading fast; he gasped, turned upon his back, and drifted with the stream.
The Pariah, seeing the stranger’s peril, started from the ground, and, weak as he was, ran to the bank opposite to the spot where the swimmer was struggling, and, plunging into the river, with much difficulty succeeded in bringing him to land. The stranger lay for some time insensible; but by rubbing and rolling him upon the ground, the Pariah finally restored him to consciousness. He looked at his benefactor and pronounced a blessing upon him.
“How is it,” he cried, “that a Mahomedan beholds in his preserver one of a race who consider personal contact with any one not of their own caste a carnal defilement?”
“Pariahs do not think thus. You have been preserved by one whose touch would be pollution to a Hindoo, but which I rejoice to find has been the salvation of a Mahomedan. It is at least some consolation to know that there do exist human creatures who can look upon the outcast without shuddering.”
“I see in you the saviour of my life, and that is to me paramount over all the poor considerations of rank. Civil distinctions, when they destroy social obligations, are a bane; I am willing, if he will permit me, to share the hut of the Pariah.”
“Stranger, you can only have a starving man’s welcome. I am fast going to a better or a worse destiny—a worse I am taught to believe, for death secures no favourable change to the contemned outcast. In yonder hut is my wife with three children dying. Would I could offer you a better asylum.”
“Perhaps my salvation may involve yours. I hope to bring you relief. My horse has reached the shore in safety, and it bears a supply of provisions. Come, let us to your home.”
The eyes of his preserver glistened, he touched the ground with his fingers, placed them against his emaciated forehead, and,murmuring a blessing upon the stranger, led the way to his miserable hovel.
Upon entering, the first thing that struck the stranger was the wife of his deliverer stretched upon the ground apparently in the agonies of death; by her side lay two children of the several ages of two and three years, and at her breast was a third attempting to draw that nutriment which the bosom no longer supplied. A tear started into the eye of the husband and father as he saw his guest’s cheek wet with the ready tribute of sympathy.
The horse having reached the bank, had with the common instinct of its nature gone to the Pariah’s hut, where it was standing when its master entered. Having taken off the pack, the provisions were produced, which consisted of cold meats, rice, and a few condiments, with some bottles of Persian wine. The rice was spread out in the sun and carefully dried; meanwhile a small quantity of wine was poured down the throats of the youthful mother and her children, after which they were sparingly fed by the anxious husband, who likewise assuaged the pangs of his own hunger. He and his family rapidly revived after this seasonable administration of relief.
Some hours after the stranger’s rescue from the river, several horsemen appeared on the other side; but seeing that the stream was not fordable and too wide to cross with safety they retired. That very night the Pariah’s guest complained of restlessness. His sleep was disturbed, his throat parched, his pulse unequal and his skin dry. He lay upon some withered grass in the corner of his preserver’s hovel, covered with a shawl which he usually wore round his waist. By the morning he was in a high fever; it augmented rapidly. For several days it increased until he was in a state of delirium; in proportion as he grew worse the starving family got better.
Among the things in the pack, belonging to the stranger, was a small bag containing six thousand rupees in gold. When the provisions were exhausted the Pariah took from this store what was necessary to obtain the requisite nourishment for his family and his guest; this he procured from the neighbouring town, butdid not appropriate a rupee beyond what their domestic exigencies demanded. He attended his guest with a tenderness and attention inspired by his natural kindness of heart and the obligations which he felt under to him for the salvation of his family from starvation. His wife united her attention to his: they feared for their benefactor’s life. They watched by him night and day. His constitution at length overcame the fever, and he rapidly recovered. When his senses returned, he blessed his preservers for their attention. The Pariah placed his bag of money before him and accounted for every piece that had been bestowed. The invalid was several weeks under the humble roof of his preserver before he could proceed on his way.
During his recovery, he had a full opportunity of witnessing the character of his hosts. Both had recovered their natural health. The wife was a small delicate creature, gentle, pretty, with a light graceful figure, and an extremely placid countenance. The man was young and vigorous, short but well knit, and exhibiting a frame capable of great endurance. Their eldest child was a girl scarcely three years old, and beautiful as a cherub. Nothing could exceed the perfect symmetry of its little limbs, and both parents seemed to look with pride upon the budding beauty of their offspring.
“My worthy host,” said the stranger one day to the Pariah, who was seated beside him smoking a small portion of tobacco rolled up in a plantain leaf, “I must shortly leave you. This humble dwelling has been my security, as no one would think of seeking the fugitive in the hovel of a Pariah. You have ministered to me during sickness with a kindness which I never can either forget or repay.”
“Nay, our attentions have been more than repaid by preservation from a terrible death, and had not that been the case they would have been sufficiently requited in your high appreciation of them.”
“You know not whom you have harboured.”
“Nor do I seek to know: it is enough for me that I have saved the life of a fellow-creature. To me it is quite a matter ofindifference who or what you may be; you have proved my benefactor and I shall never forget that I am indebted to you, not only for my own life, but for those lives which are far dearer to me than my own.”
“To-morrow I must quit you. It may perhaps be some consolation to you to know that you saved the life of the Emperor Humayoon. I have been driven from my throne by a rebel, and I must cast myself under the protection of some foreign power until I can regain it.”
The Pariah and his wife prostrated themselves before the Mogul the moment he had proclaimed his regality.
“Rise,” said the Emperor, “and receive my benediction: take this ring and this gold, and may it in future keep you from the privations to which you have hitherto been exposed.”
Saying this, he took from his finger a ring bearing a large ruby of considerable value, and put it into the hand of his host, together with a bag containing two thousand rupees in gold. This was a fortune to a needy family, a provision for life, which they acknowledged with tears of grateful joy. Being now sufficiently recovered to proceed on his journey, the following morning the Humayoon mounted his horse, and quitted the Pariah’s dwelling with prophetic sadness.
FOOTNOTES:[24]Gram is a sort of small bean, eaten by cattle in India.
[24]Gram is a sort of small bean, eaten by cattle in India.
[24]Gram is a sort of small bean, eaten by cattle in India.