THE CHILDREN'S HOLIDAY
"Chola, art thou there?" said little Nao the next morning, peeping in between the mats of the veranda. Nao lived in a pretty pink house next to Chola's, and their gardens joined; so he and the two cousins were great playmates.
"Yes, but I'm busy," said Chola, without looking around. The barber had come to shave his father, and Chola had begged to be allowed to hold for his father the little looking-glass which the barber had brought with him, as he reclined on a rug while the barber shaved him. The barber made his rounds from house to house each day, carrying the tools of his trade with him; and he not onlyshaved his patrons' faces, but their heads as well.
"I only wanted to tell thee that there is a man just outside the gate with a basket," replied Nao, in a tantalizing way; "but if thoumusthelp the barber—"
"There are plenty of men in the street with baskets," returned Chola; but he was beginning to be interested.
"But this man carries a flute," answered his little friend, smiling.
"Oh, it is the snake-charmer!" cried Chola, jumping up.
"I see thou art tired of playing barber. Give me the mirror, and thou mayst run away," said his father.
Out in the street the boys found the man dressed all in bright pink, with a basket on his arm. He had seated himself down in the shade of a tree, and a crowd of children had gathered around him.
Presently he began to whistle on a little pipe or flute. "Look," whispered Nao, as a snake's head pushed up the lid of the basket and crept slowly out. Then another and another followed, until several snakes were crawling and wriggling around in the dust, all keeping time to the music of the flute. Soon the snakes began to climb and crawl all over the man, winding themselves around his neck and arms to the great delight of the children. Finally one of the snakes wound itself around the man's neck; and one around each arm; after which the man piped them back into their basket.
Then he spread the handkerchief on the ground, which was a sign for the children to pay for the show. This was enough to send most of the children flying away; for, though they had enjoyed the performance, many of them were not willing to pay for it. BothChola and Nao, however, threw somecowrieshells on the handkerchief before they left.
"May good luck attend thee, my little masters," said the snake-charmer with a deepsalaam. Then he picked up his basket again and went piping down the street to find another audience.
"Thou hast on thy yellow dress. Hast thou been to the temple?" asked Nao, as he and Chola came back into the garden.
"No, I wait for Mahala. Where can he be?" said Chola, running back into the courtyard.
Mahala was there, busily washing out the inkstand which he always carried to school, while Shriya hung out of one of thezenanawindows talking to him.
"I cleaned my inkstand yesterday, oh, tardy one!" exclaimed Chola.
"Mine, too, is ready," said Mahala, givingit a final polish as he spoke. "Now we will be off."
To-day was the great holiday for the children. It was the festival of Sarasvati, the Hindu Goddess of Learning, who is supposed to be the especial guardian of children.
The boys were going to the temple to lay their inkstands before the queer image of the Goddess of Learning, as was the custom on this holiday festival.
"Thou art not keeping the holiday," called out Nao, looking up at Shriya.
"No, indeed," answered the little girl, shaking her head. "I do not want to be a widow some day; and the grandmother says this is what would happen if I should read books and learn to write while I'm little."
The boys laughed; and then ran out to join the crowd of little boys, who were making their way toward the temples, all dressed in bright yellow in honour of the day, some carryingtheir inkstands stuck in their belts, others swinging them in their hands.
"What shall we do to amuse ourselves?" asked Mahala, after they had dutifully laid their inkstands before the queer image of Sarasvati.
"I know," answered Chola. "We will find the potter and beg a bit of clay from him. It will be fun to make some toys for ourselves."
The boys turned down a street; and there, under a big tree on the river-bank, the potter was at work with piles of damp clay around him. As usual, a lot of children were gathered about him. They loved to watch him take the clay and put it on a revolving wooden wheel before him and mould dishes and jugs and bowls of all sorts and shapes. Each neighbourhood has a potter whose business it is to make the ware for that village; and he does a good trade, for it is the custom amongmany of the people to throw away their dishes after each meal. This of course means that they must have new ones all the time.
"Eh! well, thou wouldst have clay for thy toys?" said the gray-bearded old potter, when the boys explained what they wanted. "Here it is then," he said, good-naturedly, and gave them each a lump of the wet clay. Carrying their treasure carefully the boys hurried back to Chola's garden.
Shriya was there in a shady nook, swinging Chola's baby brother gently as he lay in his cradle. His cradle was a kind of little hammock, swung between two bamboo supports, and, as Shriya swayed it gently backward and forward, she was singing:
"Here is a handful of white rice,Here is a bit of sweet,Here is a tamarind ripe and nice,A curry for thee and me."
"The little one is fretful. He is not well; and it may be that he has a fever, the motherfears," said Shriya, stopping her song as the boys came up.
"I will make him a horse to play with," and Chola seated himself and began to mould the clay as he had seen the old potter do.
"I shall make a buffalo like the sacred one that stole the sweets yesterday," said Nao, falling to work.
"Tush! this only sticks to my fingers!" exclaimed Mahala, impatiently, after a few minutes' work.
"Give it to me and let me try," said Shriya, eagerly.
"Thou canst take it; and a good riddance, too," and Mahala held out a pair of dirty hands.
"There!" cried Chola, "here is thy horse, little one; but wait, I must put a saddle on him," he said, as the baby crowed and put out his hands.
"A horse, indeed," laughed Mahala; "it looks as much like a horse as Nao's buffalo."
"I couldn't make the horns stick on mine," grumbled Nao.
"And thou hast forgotten thy buffalo's tail, too!" Chola laughed, heartily.
"But, look," he continued, "Shriya's are the best of all."
Shriya's nimble little fingers had indeed made the two little dolls which she had moulded look very lifelike.
"I shall put a bit of real cloth on their heads for veils," she said.
"We will put them here in the sun to dry," said Chola, admiring his horse as he held it up.
"Ah, and if we leave them here, perhaps 'Sir Banas' will come to the garden to-night and make them all alive," whispered little Shriya, mysteriously.
The children believed that there was astrange being who came during the night and made their dolls walk and talk as if they were alive.
Later on all the family went to the big square near by, where games were going on; and everybody took a ride on the big "merry-go-round," which was very much like the ones we have. Shriya's father put her up into one of the swinging seats, all red and gold, and took his seat in another, for the grown people were as fond of riding in a merry-go-round as the children. The boys were already holding on tight, each in one of the funny little swings; and away they went, the long ends of their turbans flying behind them, until they were too dizzy to see. But this is the fun of a merry-go-round the world over. Then they went home merrily in the warm, dusky twilight, very happy, with their hands and mouths sticky with sweetmeats.
One evening, not long after this, as Cholaand Mahala came home from school, Shriya met them at the garden gate with a very solemn face.
"See," she whispered to Chola, "the priest from the temple sits there talking with thy father. He says the only way to make thy little brother well is to take him to Benares, that he may be bathed in the holy river."
All the family were gathered under the big tamarisk-tree that stood in the centre of the garden. It was their custom to spread mats on the brick pavement under the tree and sit there after the evening meal, the men smoking their bighookahs, while the women, with their faces tightly wrapped in long veils, sat a little back of them gossiping together. As the children slipped into their places, everybody was earnestly watching the old Brahmin priest who sat there, too, looking very fine in his pink turban and red brocaded silk gown; and also looking very wise as he drew various sorts ofcurious lines in the dust about him. When he had finished he looked up and said:
"It is indeed the will of the gods that the little one be taken to the sacred city."
The Ganges is the most important river in India, and the Hindus know it as the "Sacred River." They think that their sins will be washed away and that they will be cured of all illness if they will but bathe in its waters and drink of them.
"It is well said," answered Harajar Chumjeree, after a long pause. "We will make the pilgrimage and bathe in the waters of the holy river; thus will the child be made well and we shall achieve merit."
Chola's baby brother had not been well for some weeks. His mother and grandmother had given him many bitter drinks made from various healing herbs until he cried and would take no more of the nasty things, just as children in our country cry over their medicine.His mother even dressed him in girl's clothes, and then charms were brought from the temple written on pieces of paper, and Lalla, the baby's mother, soaked the ink off the bits of paper in water which she gave the baby to drink. Even this did not make him fat and rosy. So it was this evening that they came to decide to make the pilgrimage.
"But first," went on the wise old priest, "there must be made an offering of money and a white calf to the gods of the temple." This would ensure their making the pilgrimage safely. The Brahmins are very cunning, however, for they live within the temple and get the benefits of the offerings which are sent there.
"Ah, truly, the white calf is not forgotten," muttered the old grandmother behind her veil, but loud enough to be heard. She liked to doctor her grandchildren herself; and was rather jealous of the supposed effects of theBrahmin's paper charms. She and the priest had many hot words as to which of their remedies was the best.
"Peace!" said her son; "it is right to obey the gods."
"Shall we go in the 'fire-wagons,' father?" whispered Chola. He thought the "fire-wagons," as they called the railway trains, were the most wonderful and terrible things in the world.
"I like not this flying over the ground with a great noise," answered his father. "But it will take us quickly and at less cost than if we travelled by road."
"Indeed I shall not ride in those 'devil-wagons!'" cried the grandmother, "nor shall the son of my son" (meaning her grandson). "Do you wish him to die before he can bathe in the holy river?"
"In my young days there were none of these fire-spitting things rushing all over ourcountry," she continued, throwing back her veil in her excitement; "people were content to ride in their wagons and palanquins."
Harajar Chumjeree was easy-going, and the mother cared only to start as soon as might be; so the old lady had her own way, and it was settled that they should travel in the big, slow-moving ox-wagon, while she should be carried in her own special palanquin.
THE CHILDREN TRAVEL IN THE BIG OX-WAGON
Thenext day everybody in the house began to make preparations for the journey. Not that they hurried about it as we do. No, indeed! Everything was done very leisurely, though there was a lot of talking and disputing and the giving of contrary orders. At last, however, the great "ruth wagon" drawn by oxen, was ready in the courtyard. It was a heavy and ungainly vehicle withsolidwooden wheels and a canopy closed in with lattice-work and curtains.
The old porter was there, directing and scolding the servants as they piled the rugsand blankets and bags of food and pots and pans and dishes into the wagon. Chola's father and mother had to take all these things with them on the journey because there are no hotels at which they might stay, only camping-places, or "paraos" beside the roads, where the traveller could buy his food if need be and camp for the night.
It was a wonder there was any room left for the people, but they were all finally stowed away; except Mahala's father, who was to take Harajar's place at the shop in the Bazaar while he was away, and the many cousins who were left behind to look after the house.
There was quite a procession when at last the big wagon rumbled out through the gateway.
Behind it came the grandmother, in her "dhoolie-dak," a sort of a litter, or easy-chair, swung between two long poles. This was carried by two men, one in front and one behind,who rested the end of the poles on their shoulders.
Besides the family there were many servants, and several others walked beside the slow-moving wagon. The cook, too, went with them.
"Good-bye!" shouted little Nao from his garden wall as they went by.
"Good-bye!" called out Chola and Mahala to him, from their seats in front beside the driver. The boys were perfectly happy to think of all the new, strange sights they were going to see along the road. They shouted greetings to their friend the potter as they passed him, and also to the old "fakir," smeared all over with ashes, who sat in a little brick hut by the bridge and pretended to make wonderful cures.
"This is more fun than going to school," said Chola, as the oxen plodded along through clouds of dust. The young folks did not mind this, however, for the road was very lively withpeople going into the city, some in bullock-carts, some in big wagons like their own, and there were many on foot carrying big baskets on their heads, while beside them trudged little solemn-faced, dark-skinned children.
At noontime they halted for a rest near an orchard full of flowering fruit-trees, where some beautiful peacocks were sunning themselves on the garden walls, spreading out their great tails and strutting about. These lovely birds are found nearly everywhere in India, and in some parts run quite wild.
"There is a 'Holy Man,'" said Mahala, pointing to a man who was sitting cross-legged by the roadside, with only a cloth wrapped around his waist. His long matted hair hung on his shoulders, and he was saying his prayers with the help of a rosary of beads which he continually passed through his hands.
As the wagon came up, a young man who accompanied the "Holy Man" ran up andheld out a begging-bowl, saying: "Give, oh, charitable people, to this Holy One." Chola's mother threw some cakes into the bowl as the wagon stopped.
"We will become beggars ourselves before we reach the 'Sacred City' if we are going to give to every beggar on the road," grumbled Harajar. "They are as thick as flies in our country."
"It is good to give to a 'Holy Man,'" said the gentle mother. "Maybe he will pray that our babe be made well;" and she sighed as she looked down at the white face of the baby in her arms.
No country in the world has so many beggars as India. Many of them are called "Holy Men" because they do nothing but make pilgrimages from one sacred place to another, living solely on the alms that are given to them.
When they had eaten their lunch, the youngpeople went to explore the garden near them. "Perhaps there are dogs," said Mahala, a little fearfully, but they forgot about dogs when they saw a thicket of sugar-cane down by a stream. "Perhaps we can buy some from the man; there he is now ploughing by the stream," said Chola.
"I will give you some of the sweet cane, my little princelings," said the man, "if you will give a wreath of flowers to the Sacred River for me," when he learned that the boys were on their way to Benares.
The farmer stopped his oxen in the shade,—for oxen also do all the ploughing,—and began to cut some of the long purple stalks of cane. All at once Mahala cried out, and pulled Chola back, and there, just at their feet, was a pure white snake crawling out from the roots of the cane. It flattened out its head in a most astonishing fashion when it saw them.
Riding an elephant"FIRST THERE CAME A BIG ELEPHANT."
"Behold! a pure white cobra," cried the farmer. "It must mean good luck to you, my young masters. It is a rare sight now-a-days to see one of these white cobras."
The childrensalaamedto it very politely, though they were careful to keep at a good distance. "It is looking for water," said the farmer, as he took a long stalk of cane and gently guided it down to the stream. The snake is another sacred animal of the Hindus, and they would not kill or injure one for anything.
"It may be a sign that the babe will be healed," said the mother, hopefully, when the children came back with their sugar-cane and told about the wonderful cobra. As they were about to move on again, they saw a great cloud of dust down the road. "It is an elephant and many men," said one of the servants. "A great ruler, doubtless," said another, as there came into sight a man on horsebackcarrying a silk banner or flag. It turned out that itwasa great and powerful Rajah going in state on a journey to visit another Rajah, or ruler, of one of the small kingdoms or states of which modern India was formerly made up. And did he not look imposing!
First there came a big elephant, all decorated with silk and gold and silver. On the elephant's back was a "howdah," which is like a big chair with a canopy over it, and in this, sitting cross-legged, was the Rajah,—a big, fat fellow dressed in coloured silks and jewels, with a great diamond-set plume in his turban. The fittings of this "howdah" were most luxurious. It was lined and carpeted with expensive silken rugs, for the making of which certaincastesare famous. There are many kinds of rugs in India; but those of woven silk, like the praying-rugs of the temples, and those upon which the great Rajahs sit in state, are the most beautiful and expensive.These rug-makers are mostly Mohammedans, a religious sect entirely different from the Hindus.
Behind the "howdah" stood a servant holding a big umbrella of fine feathers over the Rajah's head. The driver sat on the neck of the elephant and guided the big beast by prodding him on one side or the other with an iron-shod stick or goad.
After the Rajah, followed many men on horseback, all in fine dress and carrying lances and banners of silk; then a whole troop of servants who guarded the wagons filled with the Rajah's baggage and the presents he was carrying to the other Rajah.
"Isn't it fine to ride like that on a big elephant!" whispered Mahala to Chola, as the children picked flowers by the roadside and threw them before the Rajah's elephant, which is a pretty way the Hindus have of welcoming a person of importance.
"How happy the Rajah must be," said little Shriya, "to be able to ride like that and wear such beautiful jewels!" And all the rest of the day the little folk talked of nothing but the great Rajah and his escort.
At sunset they came to aparao, where they were to camp for the night. It was only a bare piece of ground under some trees, and a few stalls or little shops where one could buy food and fuel to make a fire.
Our party came to a halt among many other bullock-carts, the owners of which were already sitting around on the ground cooking their suppers or bargaining for food at the little booths. Soon, when their own pots and pans were got out, and the dishes and the bags of rice and meal, the cook made ready the supper.
"This is much more fun than eating at home," said Shriya, as the children were gathering big leaves from the trees. These theyused for plates, heaping them up with their boiled rice, and curry, and fish, and all sorts of puddings and sweets.
Meanwhile the oxen tethered close by were eating their suppers of chopped straw. As supper was being eaten, another party stopped at theparaoand camped not far away. There were many servants in the new party, and a fine litter with gold and silk coverings. When the litter was put down, a young boy stepped out, looking very proud and haughty. His servants at once spread a handsome rug on the ground for him to sit on and rushed about waiting on him, taking good care to keep every one at a distance.
"It is a noble Brahmin boy, and he must be a little prince at the very least," whispered Mahala to Chola in an awestruck voice. "See his rich dresses and the airs he puts on."
"Yes, and how he orders every one about him. Nothing seems good enough for him,"replied Chola; "but he has a right to be proud, for he wears the 'Sacred Thread' about him," he continued, looking at the little boy with interest. Around the little Brahmin's neck was a thin cord or thread, which was the sign of his highcaste.
Just then a little boy from one of the wagons crept up near andsalaamedbefore him until his head touched the ground.
"Away! do not come so near my master," cried one of the servants, and ordered him off.
"Ha! the servant is right," said the children's grandmother, who was sitting in her palanquin-litter enjoying the lively scene. "When I was young like Shriya, a beggar boy like that would not have dared come so near a noble child." The old woman frowned at the little boy, who crept meekly back to his cart.
Meanwhile the haughty little Brahmin ate his supper, with his head turned away so noone could see him eat, and then, growing tired of respectful glances of the crowd around him, he got into his litter again and the servants fastened the curtains tightly around him.
Chola and Mahala were sleepy by this time, so they just rolled themselves up in quilts on the ground, while Shriya crept into the wagon with her mother. Everybody slept soundly, in spite of the fact that one of the servants was beating a drum most of the night, which they really believed was the way to keep off evil spirits.
The first thing Chola heard when he woke up the next morning was the cook scolding the doves, who were picking out of his meal bags while he was getting breakfast ready.
"Oh, the thieves!" he cried. "They are as bad as the beggars."
"They are hungry," said Chola. "It would not please thee to be scolded if thou wert hungry." Then he and Mahala amused themselvesby throwing pieces of cake to the doves who were picking up their food around the carts, and the green paroquets which came flying out of the trees, where they had been roosting all the night.
They did not see the little Brahmin again. The curtains of his litter were still tightly closed when, after much shouting and running about, the bullocks were at last yoked into the wagon and the little procession rolled away down the dusty road long before the sun came up over the distant groves of mango-trees.
"What art thou guarding so carefully, Shriya?" asked her brother. He and Chola were walking beside the wagon for a change. The lattices were raised so Shriya and her mother and aunt could enjoy the fresh air.
"They are my dolls," said the little girl, sadly, as she patted the bundle beside her. "I take them as an offering to the holy river."
"Poor little woman! Must thou sacrificethy toys, too?" smiled her uncle as he patted her head.
"It is right that she should," answered her mother; for she, too, had thrown her dolls into the sacred river when she was a child, at the yearly festival, when the children must sacrifice their playthings to the great river.
The boys suddenly looked gloomy, for they remembered that the day would come only too soon when they, too, would have to destroy all their toys. Chola wondered to himself as he walked along if he might not at least save the little tiger, painted a bright yellow with red spots, which was his favourite toy.
But the children could not be sad long, with so much going on about them, and they were soon shouting and laughing to a group of children by the roadside who were amusing themselves playing at making "graves." They were heaping up little mounds of dust and sticking flowers in them, which is the nearestthing little Hindu children have to "mud pies."
For several days our little party plodded along the flat, dusty road, camping out at night at theparaos, until at last they drew near the "Holy City of Benares."
THE CHILDREN SEE BENARES AND GO HOME FOR A WEDDING
Onthe road to Benares they found many other people going the same way as they themselves. There were old people, young people, children, beggars of all kinds, priests of all faiths, sick people and well people,—all going to the "Holy City" carrying offerings of flowers and fruits, and all intending to bathe in the Sacred River.
Finally our party made camp just outside the city gates. Here they left the wagon and servants and made their way through the crowded, dirty streets until they finally came down to the banks of the river Ganges.
Such a sight as met their eyes!
"Oh!" said Chola, "all the temples in the world must be here."
"And all the people, too," said Mahala.
"And all the beggars as well," answered Harajar, as they shouldered their way through a crowd of "fakirs" holding out their begging-bowls.
"Nay, speak kindly of all in the 'Holy City.' It may be that our child will be cured," said the gentle mother, as she wrapped her veil around the baby to keep off the hot sun.
The children stopped to stare at the hundreds of big temples of strange shapes which stretched up and down the river back as far as they could see. In front of these temples were terraces and long flights of steps, called "ghats" leading down to the river's edge.
"We will go first to the temple to make an offering," said Chola's father, as they walked past temple after temple full of queer, ugly images.
children making wreaths"THESE THE CHILDREN TWISTED INTO WREATHS AND THREW INTO THE RIVER."
At last, after many inquiries, they found the temple that they were looking for, and put dishes of coloured rice and flowers before a great bronze image with four arms and two big diamonds for eyes, sitting cross-legged just as they did themselves.
After this they went down the long steps in front of the temple to the river's bank, and the baby was bathed in the water with much ceremony.
The children all splashed around and thought it rather good fun. The water was cool and agreeable, and they amused themselves trying to catch the long lines of flower wreaths which went floating by. These wreaths of flowers are thrown into the waters of the Ganges by the pilgrims as an offering to the waters of the "Sacred River."
Little Shriya had brought her dolls. One by one she sadly dropped them, the brightly painted little dolls, made of clay and dressedjust like herself, into the river. At last she held in her arms only the two she had made herself in the garden at home. They had lost most of their arms and legs on the journey, and were sorry-looking little dolls; but Shriya was very fond of them, and she wondered if the "Sacred River" would really miss them if she kept them. With a sigh she decided this would be very wrong, and so she put them, too, tenderly in the water among the floating flowers. She then sat down on the steps and drew her veil over her face and sighed softly, for it would be three whole months before she could have any more dolls.
"Here are our flowers," said Chola, running down the steps with his arms full of yellow marigolds and sweet jasmine, which he had bought from the flower-seller who sat under one of the big umbrellas. These the children twisted into wreaths and threw into the river. "And here is one for the man who gave usthe sugar-cane," he said, tossing a large wreath on the water.
"Here thou wilt see everycastein India," said Harajar, as they sat on the steps drying themselves under a big umbrella after their bath. There were indeed thousands of people; some just getting ready to enter the water; others slipping into their dry clothes after their bath. There were water-carriers, carrying great jugs of the "holy water" to sell to pilgrims to carry with them.
"Look how the smoke rolls up yonder," said Mahala. "The smoke comes from the burning 'ghats.' May the little one not have to be carried there," said his uncle, looking gloomily at the smoke curling up from the edge of the river lower down.
"Nay, speak not of them. 'Tis an evil omen and the gods may hear thee," said the mother, as she held the baby closer to her.
It is the Hindu custom to burn their dead;and, in spite of bathing and drinking the sacred water, many of the poor pilgrims do die at Benares. Indeed, it may be that they die because they do drink it; for you can imagine how dirty the river is with so many, many thousands of people bathing in it all the time. For this reason certain of the "ghats" along the river are set apart as places where bodies may be burned. The bodies are laid on great piles of wood which are set on fire, the families of the dead sitting around lamenting and wailing.
Our party camped some days outside the great gate and took many baths and drank much water. When they finally got home again, everybody was very happy, for the baby was really much better.
"We did well to go," said Chola's father, as he looked at the baby growing fat and well again.
"I think the white cobra helped to bringus good luck, too," Chola said, confidentially to Mahala.
Then word came from the boys' Uncle Achmed that he was coming to the city to take a new elephant back home with him, and that they might go back with him for a visit.
Little Shriya soon forgot to grieve for her lost dolls, for now the grand preparations for her wedding began. It is the custom for our little Hindu cousins to marry very young. But this is only a ceremony. As little Shriya was only nine years old, she would still stay at home and play with her toys until she was grown up, when she would go and live in her husband's family.
If, meanwhile, her boy husband should die and leave her a widow, she would have to go into mourning for him all her life and never marry again. She would have to shave her head and never wear any more pretty, bright dresses or jewels, and only eat one meal a day.Then, too, everybody would have as little to do with her as possible; for even toseea widow is thought to be bad luck. You see that some of the Hindu customs are very unjust to the little Hindu girls. So it was no wonder that Shriya did not want to keep the festival of the Goddess of Learning, for fear it might cause her to be a widow some day.
On the day of the wedding, Shriya stood in the middle of the big room of thezenana, being dressed for the grand ceremony. How happy and excited she was! To-day, for the first time in her life, she was the most important person in the family. She had been bathed with sweet perfumes, and her mother had put all kinds of powders on her face and painted her eyebrows.
"Oh, mother, is it not lovely?" cried the little girl gleefully, as the mother draped a scarf of pale blue silk all shining with gold over her beautiful dress of pink silk.
"Now thou wilt indeed look like a little princess," said the grandmother, as she put a wonderful jewelled head-dress which she had worn at her own wedding on Shriya's head. It was of gold set with many jewels, and little Shriya gave a sigh of pleasure and joyfully clapped her hands when her mother held up a small mirror that she might see herself.
The grandmother decked her out with many other kinds of jewelled ornaments, long earrings that hung down to her shoulders, beautiful pearls, and a gold collar around her neck. Then she put on bracelet after bracelet of gold and silver until her arms were almost covered from shoulder to wrist, and she had to hold them stiff like a doll. And her fingers were so covered with rings that she could hardly move them at all. Last of all the grandmother threw over her a long veil of silk tissue, spangled with gold.
What would you think of a little girl dressedin all these beautiful things and being barefooted? Shriya would much rather have rings on her toes than shoes and stockings. Shedidhave rings on her toes, too, and silver bands on her ankles as well.
The last thing the grandmother did was to hang wreaths of jasmine flowers all over her. It was no wonder that she had to be pushed along by some one! She could not possibly have walked by herself.
How pleased little Shriya was! Everybody was admiring her and giving her good wishes. The boys were quite jealous, for they felt that every one was paying more attention to a girl than to either of them.
"Next year I shall be married, too," said Chola, trying to console himself.
boy standing at door of tent with older man sitting on the ground outsideTHE MARRIAGE OF SHRIYA.
But just then some one called out that the bridegroom was coming, and all the children ran out to meet him. The little bridegroom rode a spirited pony, and looked as fine as alittle Rajah in his white silk dress with golden flowers embroidered all over it, and in front of his turban a handsome jewelled ornament. He had shoes on, and around his neck were chains of jewels and precious stones. Behind him came a long procession of relatives and friends. When he got to the door, all the little girls, Shriya's little friends, surrounded him and led him into the courtyard. Chola and Mahala were very busy running around giving each guest a wreath of jasmine to hang around their necks, and a wand of sandalwood, which was lighted like a candle and gave off a sweet perfume as it burned.
A beautiful arbour of flowers had been put up in the inner courtyard, under which the bride and groom sat side by side.
The old Brahmin priest was there, of course, to perform the marriage ceremony. He made asalaamto the north and south and the east and the west, a sign of politeness to the "goodspirits" who were supposed to be present; and, after many long prayers, the grandmother put a silver cord around the bride's neck, after which the guests threw handfuls of rice which they took from a great copper bowl before the bridal couple.
Just as all the little girls were marching around the courtyard after the ceremony, followed by the bride and groom, what should naughty Jam, the pet monkey, do but snatch some of the rice out of the bowl, and rush with it to the roof, where he sat chattering and throwing it down on the heads of the guests. This greatly amused the children; but the old Brahmin was very angry. So Chola had to pretend to scold the little monkey:
"Thou shalt come down and taste the bamboo rod, naughty one!" he cried, looking up at his pet. But Jam only chattered the harder and threw more rice and made up his mind to stay where he was.
"'Tis a good saying of ours—'Never trust a boy or a monkey.' Eh, Chola?" said his Uncle Achmed, who had just got there in time for the wedding, laughing.
But Jam was quite forgotten when a great beating of drums was heard outside and in came the dancing-girls and the musicians.
All the company then sat around the court and watched thenautch-girls, as they are called, dance. They never thought of dancing themselves, deeming it too much work. All the time the musicians were beating their drums and playing on the funniest sorts of instruments imaginable, like queer-shaped mandolins and zithers; and it was more like a screechy noise than like music—just a monotonous singsong chant.
But this was not the end of the gaieties. There were many dinners to be given. So the cook-room was in a perfect hubbub, and you may believe that the grandmother was makingeverybody fly around. But she found time to scold the crowd of beggars who were hanging around the doors however, though at the same time she saw to it that they got the scraps that were left.
"It is well to be good to the poor at all times," she said.
"Ah, but this is the best thing of all!" exclaimed Chola to Mahala, as he and his cousin and Nao sat side by side on a mat in the pretty garden that evening and saw the wonderful fireworks. There were queer animals and birds, all made up with coloured lamps and fires; and all through the trees were hung lanterns, made of big yellow gourds with coloured lights inside them. All the while the musicians thumped on their drums, and everybody was very gay and merry.
THE LITTLE SAHIB SEES THE BIG ELEPHANTS
"To-dayI must take the young elephants home," said Uncle Achmed, when the wedding festivities were over. "Are the two little princelings ready to go with me?" he continued, smiling at his two little nephews.
"Indeed we are," exclaimed the two boys, wild with delight, though they did not whoop or jump about as boys probably would do elsewhere. Little Hindu children don't make much noise at any time. It would be thought strange because it would be bad manners to do so; indeed a Hindu very seldom even laughs loudly.
But there was nothing that Chola and Mahala really liked better than to go to theiruncle's house and see the big elephants at work. Uncle Achmed had a big lumber-yard on the banks of the Ganges, and used many elephants to move about and pile up the great logs of teak-wood. Wouldn't little boys in America think it a lot of fun if they could go out into the country and see, instead of horses, a lot of elephants at work? Well, that is just what a little Hindu boy can do, for elephants are almost as plentiful as horses in India; and they use them for many kinds of work where we use horses or machinery.
"I have brought the old elephant with me; he is wise and will be able to show the others the way home; and, also, he will tell them how to behave," said Achmed, as he and the two boys made their way to theserai, the camping-place of the elephants outside the city gate.
Here were lots and lots of great gray elephants, swinging their long trunks from sideto side as they swayed and stamped around, while their owners and drivers shouted and disputed together.
The two young elephants were hobbled in one corner, swaying to and fro and swinging their trunks in rather a wicked way. Near by was Uncle Achmed's old elephant, swinging his trunk at the two young ones as much as to say: "There are a great many things for you youngsters to learn yet, and I'm going to teach you."
The driver touched the old elephant with his stick and the great beast slowly knelt down. Achmed and the boys then climbed into thehowdah, and the great big elephant marched off with much dignity.
"Look, the little elephants do not like the road," said Chola, pointing to the new elephants, who would not budge. A little prodding from the driver's sharp stick, however,made them change their minds quickly; and they meekly followed the old elephant.
"Thou art like two little Rajahs now," said Uncle Achmed, with a smile as he squatted in thehowdahbeside them and took out his "betel" box. It was a beautiful little silver box, all inlaid with enamel and precious stones. Inside were three compartments which heldbetelnuts, lime, and spices. He took a pinch of all three of these and began to chew thepan, as the mixture is called.
The boys had a very good time. They would call down to the children walking along the dusty road and twit them for not being able to ride in state as they were doing, just as children do the world over. Everybody gave them the road, or, rather, the big elephants took it as a matter of course. The old elephant took all kinds of liberties with the passers-by, evidently just for the fun of the thing. He would give a fellow trudging alonga nudge on the back with the end of his trunk, which would nearly scare the fellow to death; or he would sneeze, as it were, into a lazy beggar's face, which would make the "Holy Man" very angry indeed. Once he deliberately took a nice ripe melon out of a cart and ate it, while its owner, who was fast asleep, never missed it.
"He is a wise one," said Uncle Achmed, "but what is the matter there?" he cried, looking back. The matter was that a wedding procession had just come out of a side road. The bride was in a litter covered with gay curtains and gold embroideries, and the bridegroom was riding a white horse which was all decked with flowers, and had his mane and tail dyed pink.
With all this splendour there was much beating of drums and music from other noisy instruments. One of the new elephants had taken a great fright and backed up against thebride's litter. This had made the bridegroom's horse rear up and nearly upset him on the dusty road. The poor little bride screamed, and the crowd of relations and friends abused the elephant and all his family and kindred back through many generations, several hundreds of years, which is the true Hindu fashion of showing one's anger.
The drivers prodded and punched, but the young elephant would not move. Then old Ranji, the wise old elephant, wheeled around and went up to the naughty and obstinate youngster and gave his trunk such a twist that he squealed out in pain. Then Ranji gave him a push out into the middle of the road again, and after this kept the young one right in front of him. He was so scared that he scarcely dared to swing his trunk from side to side again; and all went smoothly until they lumbered into the great courtyard ofAchmed's house, which sat in the midst of a wide expanse of rice-fields.
As they climbed down out of the "howdah," the head servant made a "salaam," or bow, before the master until his forehead touched the ground, which is a way of being very polite. He then told Achmed that the ColonelSahiband the littleSahibhad done him the honour of coming to see him, and were even now sitting in the garden awaiting his coming. All Englishmen in India are calledSahiband English women are calledMem-sahib.
Achmed found the Colonel sitting on a bed under a big tree in the garden. This bed the head servant had brought from the house for him to sit on, for this is one of the forms of politeness shown to English visitors at a Hindu home.
Just then the "littleSahib" ran up to see the elephants; and, who should he be, but thelittle boy who had lost his way in the Bazaar.
"Look, it is the littleSahibI talked with," exclaimed Chola to Mahala.
"Hello!" said Harry, holding out his hand. "Oh, I forgot you folk never shake hands," he continued. "Isn't it funny to think I should see you again? But this isn't the same boy who was with you before," he continued, turning to Mahala.
The boys were delighted to see each other again, and soon were talking away as if they had always known one another, though sometimes it was hard for them to understand, and they made many funny mistakes.
Harry thought the big elephants were wonderful beasts, and wanted to see them at work; so the boys took him down to the river where the elephants were piling up the teak. An elephant picks up one end of a log with his trunk and lays that on the pile; then he takeshold of the other end and so brings it around in place. All the while his driver sits on the neck of the great beast, and tells him what to do by prodding him gently with his iron-shod stick. After awhile the elephants become so well trained that they will do their work without any guidance whatever.
Harry was amazed. He had never seen elephants at work before; but it was an old story to the Hindu boys, and they told him how the elephants were made to help build roads and railroads, and even carry cannon on their backs in battle. Elephants are very intelligent, and can be trained to do the most wonderful things.
"We will go now and see the wonderful elephant of old Yusuf," said Chola, leading the way to the back of the house, where old Yusuf, the head driver, lived. Here they saw the funniest sight. Yusuf's baby grandson lay asleep on a mat in front of the door, and theold elephant was standing by waving his trunk backwards and forwards over the baby to keep away the flies.
How the children laughed! "That is the funniest 'ayah' I have ever seen," said Harry. An "ayah" is the name for the Indian nursemaids.
Old Yusuf now came up and showed them how the elephant would wake up thecoolies, or labourers, when they were sleeping in the shade, by filling his trunk with water and squirting it over the sleeping fellows. When he wanted his master he would go to the door of his house and knock against it with his foot, just as a person would knock with his fist, only a good deal harder.
"Yusuf knows, too, the language that the elephants talk together in the jungle," whispered Chola to Harry. It really seemed as if the old man did understand the language of the elephants, for he would speak to the elephantwith strange sounds, and the beast would follow him about like a dog. "He has taught me to speak some of the elephant talk, also," continued Chola, looking very knowing.
Harry told the boys that his father had come to talk with Achmed about a tiger hunt that he and several other Englishmen, who were friends of his, were planning. Achmed was well known as a good man to plan a hunt, for he knew the jungle well, as the wild forests of India are called.
"Papa is going to take me on the tiger hunt, too. Won't that be fine!" said Harry, eagerly. "Mamma was afraid at first, but I begged as hard as I knew, and told her that if I was going to be in the Indian Survey some day, I'd have to go through the jungle grass and wild forests, and take measurements with all sorts of instruments and things, and that I might as well get acquainted with the countrynow. Then papa laughed and said that I ought to begin as soon as possible, and so it is all fixed.
"Why couldn't you both come, too?" Harry asked the boys. "Your uncle could bring you. Wouldn't it be fun! Perhaps we could shoot a tiger ourselves!"
"Oh, I shouldn't dare to even think of attacking a tiger," gasped the gentle little Chola. Hindus are as a rule mild, gentle folk. Perhaps this comes from their laws, so commonly observed, which forbid them to kill animals or eat meat.
"Perhaps you are afraid to go," said Harry.
"I have not fear, though I would not be brave enough to attempt to kill a great tiger; but I should like to go all the same. We are brave people, and many of our warriorcasteserve in the great Sahib's army, as you know," said Chola, proudly.
"I did not mean to say that. I know youpeople are brave. Father often says he never had a finer lot of soldiers than those in his Indian regiment," replied Harry, hurriedly. He was afraid that he had hurt the little Hindu boy's feelings.
"But perhaps you can go, Chola, if Mahala can't. Let us go now and ask your uncle if he will take you," continued Harry.
"By all means let the boy come, Achmed. He will be a companion for you, Harry," said the ColonelSahib. "And he will help you learn Hindustanee, too. You need help, do you not?" laughed his father.
"What will your father say if the gods of the jungle carry you off?" asked Achmed, half-banteringly. But he could not long refuse his favourite nephew anything that he could give him, and so it was arranged that Achmed, with two of his best drivers, and Chola, should meet the Colonel Sahib and his party at the big railway station in Lucknowin a week's time. From there they would take the "fire-wagons" to a certain small village, from which they would make their real start for the jungle.