and make the house a scene of variance, like the snake with the
ichneumon, the owl with the crow, for they have no fear of losing
their noses or parting with their ears. They will (O my mother!)
converse with strange men and take their hands; they will receive
presents from them, and, worst of all, they will show their white
faces openly without the least sense of shame; they will ride
publicly in chariots and mount horses, whose points they pride
themselves upon knowing, and eat and drink in crowded places—their
husbands looking on the while, and perhaps even leading them through
the streets. And she will be deemed the pinnacle of the pagoda of
perfection, that most excels in wit and shamelessness, and who can
turn to water the livers of most men. They will dance and sing
instead of minding their children, and when these grow up they will
send them out of the house to shift for themselves, and care little
if they never see them again.[176] But the greatest sin of all will
be this: when widowed they will ever be on the look-out for a second
husband, and instances will be known of women fearlessly marrying
three, four, and five times.[177] You would think that all this
license satisfies them. But no! The more they have the more their
weak minds covet. The men have admitted them to an equality, they
will aim at an absolute superiority, and claim respect and homage;
they will eternally raise tempests about their rights, and if any
one should venture to chastise them as they deserve, they would call
him a coward and run off to the judge.
[176] Nothing astonishes Hindus so much as the apparent want of
affection between the European parent and child.
[177] A third marriage is held improper and baneful to a Hindu
woman. Hence, before the nuptials they betroth the man to a tree,
upon which the evil expends itself, and the tree dies.
The men will, I say, be as wonderful about their women as about
all other matters. The sage of Bharat Khanda guards the frail sex
strictly, knowing its frailty, and avoids teaching it to read and
write, which it will assuredly use for a bad purpose. For women are
ever subject to the god[178] with the sugar-cane bow and string of
bees, and arrows tipped with heating blossoms, and to him they will
ever surrender man, dhan, tan—mind, wealth, and body. When, by
exceeding cunning, all human precautions have been made vain, the
wise man bows to Fate, and he forgets, or he tries to forget, the
past. Whereas this race of white Pariahs will purposely lead their
women into every kind of temptation, and, when an accident occurs,
they will rage at and accuse them, killing ten thousand with a word,
and cause an uproar, and talk scandal and be scandalised, and go
before the magistrate, and make all the evil as public as possible.
One would think they had in every way done their duty to their women!
[178] Kama.
And when all this change shall have come over them, they will feel
restless and take flight, and fall like locusts upon the Aryavartta
(land of India). Starving in their own country, they will find enough
to eat here, and to carry away also. They will be mischievous as the
saw with which ornament makers trim their shells, and cut ascending
as well as descending. To cultivate their friendship will be like
making a gap in the water, and their partisans will ever fare worse
than their foes. They will be selfish as crows, which, though they
eat every kind of flesh, will not permit other birds to devour that
of the crow.
In the beginning they will hire a shop near the mouth of mother
Ganges, and they will sell lead and bullion, fine and coarse woollen
cloths, and all the materials for intoxication. Then they will
begin to send for soldiers beyond the sea, and to enlist warriors
in Zambudwipa (India). They will from shopkeepers become soldiers:
they will beat and be beaten; they will win and lose; but the power
of their star and the enchantments of their Queen Kompani, a daina
or witch who can draw the blood out of a man and slay him with a
look, will turn everything to their good. Presently the noise of
their armies shall be as the roaring of the sea; the dazzling of
their arms shall blind the eyes like lightning; their battle-fields
shall be as the dissolution of the world; and the slaughter-ground
shall resemble a garden of plantain trees after a storm. At length
they shall spread like the march of a host of ants over the land.
They will swear, ‘Dehar Ganga!’[179] that they hate nothing so much
as being compelled to destroy an army, to take and loot a city, or
to add a rich slip of territory to their rule. And yet they will
go on killing and capturing and adding region to region, till the
Abode of Snow (Himalaya) confines them to the north, the Sindhu-naddi
(Indus) to the west, and elsewhere the sea. Even in this, too, they
will demean themselves as lords and masters, scarcely allowing poor
Samudradevta[180] to rule his own waves.
[179] An oath, meaning, ‘From such a falsehood preserve me,
Ganges!’
[180] The Indian Neptune.
Raja Vikram was in a silent mood, otherwise he would not have allowed
such ill-omened discourse to pass uninterrupted. Then the Baital, who
in vain had often paused to give the royal carrier a chance of asking
him a curious question, continued his recital in a dissonant and
dissatisfied tone of voice.
By my feet and your head,[181] O warrior king! it will fare badly in
those days for the Rajas of Hindusthan, when the red-coated men of
Shaka[182] shall come amongst them. Listen to my words.
[181] A highly insulting form of adjuration.
[182] The British Islands—according to Wilford.
In the Vindhya Mountain there will be a city named Dharmapur, whose
king will be called Mahabul. He will be a mighty warrior, well
skilled in the dhanur-veda (art of war),[183] and will always lead
his own armies to the field. He will duly regard all the omens,
such as a storm at the beginning of the march, an earthquake, the
implements of war dropping from the hands of the soldiery, screaming
vultures passing over or walking near the army, the clouds and the
sun’s rays waxing red, thunder in a clear sky, the moon appearing
small as a star, the dropping of blood from the clouds, the falling
of lightning bolts, darkness filling the four quarters of the
heavens, a corpse or a pan of water being carried to the right of the
army, the sight of a female beggar with dishevelled hair, dressed in
red, and preceding the vanguard, the starting of the flesh over the
left ribs of the commander-in-chief, and the weeping or turning back
of the horses when urged forward.
[183] Literally the science (veda) of the bow (dhanush). This
weapon, as everything amongst the Hindus, had a divine origin; it
was of three kinds—the common bow, the pellet or stone bow, and
the crossbow or catapult.
He will encourage his men to single combats, and will carefully
train them to gymnastics. Many of the wrestlers and boxers will
be so strong that they will often beat all the extremities of the
antagonist into his body, or break his back, or rend him into two
pieces. He will promise heaven to those who shall die in the front
of battle, and he will have them taught certain dreadful expressions
of abuse to be interchanged with the enemy when commencing the
contest. Honours will be conferred on those who never turn their
backs in an engagement, who manifest a contempt of death, who despise
fatigue, as well as the most formidable enemies, who shall be found
invincible in every combat, and who display a courage which increases
before danger, like the glory of the sun advancing to his meridian
splendour.
But King Mahabul will be attacked by the white Pariahs, who, as
usual, will employ against him gold, fire, and steel. With gold they
will win over his best men, and persuade them openly to desert when
the army is drawn out for battle. They will use the terrible ‘fire
weapon,’[184] large and small tubes, which discharge flame and smoke,
and bullets as big as those hurled by the bow of Bharata.[185] And
instead of using swords and shields, they will fix daggers to the end
of their tubes, and thrust with them like lances.
[184] It is a disputed point whether the ancient Hindus did or
did not know the use of gunpowder.
[185] It is said to have discharged balls, each 6,400 pounds in
weight.
Mahabul, distinguished by valour and military skill, will march out
of his city to meet the white foe. In front will be the ensigns,
bells, cows’-tails, and flags, the latter painted with the bird
Garura,[186] the bull of Shiva, the Bauhinia tree, the monkey-god
Hanuman, the lion and the tiger, the fish, an alms-dish, and seven
palm trees. Then will come the footmen armed with fire-tubes,
swords and shields, spears and daggers, clubs, and bludgeons. They
will be followed by fighting men on horses and oxen, on camels and
elephants. The musicians, the water-carriers, and lastly the stores
on carriages, will bring up the rear.
[186] A kind of Mercury, a god with the head and wings of a bird,
who is the Vahan or vehicle of the second person of the Triad,
Vishnu.
The white outcastes will come forward in a long thin red thread, and
vomiting fire like the Jwalamukhi.[187] King Mahabul will receive
them with his troops formed in a circle; another division will be in
the shape of a half-moon; a third like a cloud, whilst others shall
represent a lion, a tiger, a carriage, a lily, a giant, and a bull.
But as the elephants will all turn round when they feel the fire,
and trample upon their own men, and as the cavalry defiling in front
of the host will openly gallop away; Mahabul, being thus without
resource, will enter his palanquin, and accompanied by his queen and
their only daughter, will escape at night-time into the forest.
[187] The celebrated burning springs of Baku, near the Caspian,
are so called. There are many other ‘fire mouths.’
The unfortunate three will be deserted by their small party, and
live for a time on jungle food, fruits, and roots; they will even be
compelled to eat game. After some days they will come in sight of a
village, which Mahabul will enter to obtain victuals. There the wild
Bhils, famous for long ears, will come up, and surrounding the party,
will bid the Raja throw down his arms. Thereupon Mahabul, skilful in
aiming, twanging and wielding the bow on all sides, so as to keep off
the bolts of the enemy, will discharge his bolts so rapidly, that one
will drive forward another, and none of the barbarians will be able
to approach. But he will have failed to bring his quiver containing
an inexhaustible store of arms, some of which, pointed with diamonds,
shall have the faculty of returning again to their case after they
have done their duty. The conflict will continue three hours, and
many of the Bhils will be slain: at length a shaft will cleave the
king’s skull, he will fall dead, and one of the wild men will come up
and cut off his head.
When the queen and the princess shall have seen that Mahabul fell
dead, they will return to the forest weeping and beating their
bosoms. They will thus escape the Bhils, and after journeying on for
four miles, at length they will sit down wearied, and revolve many
thoughts in their minds.
They are very lovely (continued the Vampire), as I see them with the
eye of clear-seeing. What beautiful hair! it hangs down like the tail
of the cow of Tartary, or like the thatch of a house; it is shining
as oil, dark as the clouds, black as blackness itself. What charming
faces! likest to water-lilies, with eyes as the stones in unripe
mangos, noses resembling the beaks of parrots, teeth like pearls set
in corals, ears like those of the red-throated vulture, and mouths
like the water of life. What excellent forms! breasts like boxes
containing essences, the unopened fruit of plantains or a couple of
crabs; loins the width of a span, like the middle of the viol; legs
like the trunk of an elephant, and feet like the yellow lotus.
And a fearful place is that jungle, a dense dark mass of thorny
shrubs, and ropy creepers, and tall canes, and tangled brake, and
gigantic gnarled trees, which groan wildly in the night wind’s
embrace. But a wilder horror urges the unhappy women on; they fear
the polluting touch of the Bhils; once more they rise and plunge
deeper into its gloomy depths.
The day dawns. The white Pariahs have done their usual work. They
have cut off the hands of some, the feet and heads of others, whilst
many they have crushed into shapeless masses, or scattered in pieces
upon the ground. The field is strewed with corpses, the river runs
red, so that the dogs and jackals swim in blood; the birds of prey
sitting on the branches, drink man’s life from the stream, and enjoy
the sickening smell of burnt flesh.
Such will be the scenes acted in the fair land of Bharat.
Perchance, two white outcastes, father and son, who with a party
of men are scouring the forest and slaying everything, fall upon
the path which the women have taken shortly before. Their attention
is attracted by footprints leading towards a place full of tigers,
leopards, bears, wolves, and wild dogs. And they are utterly
confounded when, after inspection, they discover the sex of the
wanderers.
‘How is it,’ shall say the father, ‘that the footprints of mortals
are seen in this part of the forest?’
The son shall reply, ‘Sir, these are the marks of women’s feet: a
man’s foot would not be so small.’
‘It is passing strange,’ shall rejoin the elder white Pariah, ‘but
thou speakest truth. Certainly such a soft and delicate foot cannot
belong to any one but a woman.’
‘They have only just left the track,’ shall continue the son, ‘and
look! this is the step of a married woman. See how she treads on the
inside of her sole, because of the bending of her ankles.’ And the
younger white outcaste shall point to the queen’s footprints.
‘Come, let us search the forest for them,’ shall cry the father,
‘what an opportunity of finding wives fortune has thrown in our
hands. But no! thou art in error,’ he shall continue, after examining
the track pointed out by his son, ‘in supposing this to be the sign
of a matron. Look at the other, it is much longer; the toes have
scarcely touched the ground, whereas the marks of the heels are deep.
Of a truth _this_ must be the married woman.’ And the elder white
outcaste shall point to the footprints of the princess.
‘Then,’ shall reply the son, who admires the shorter foot, ‘let us
first seek them, and when we find them, give to me her who has the
short feet, and take the other to wife thyself.’
Having made this agreement they shall proceed on their way, and
presently they shall find the women lying on the earth, half dead
with fatigue and fear. Their legs and feet are scratched and torn by
brambles, their ornaments have fallen off, and their garments are
in strips. The two white outcastes find little difficulty, the first
surprise over, in persuading the unhappy women to follow them home,
and with great delight, conformably to their arrangement, each takes
up his prize on his horse and rides back to the tents. The son takes
the queen, and the father the princess.
In due time two marriages come to pass; the father, according to
agreement, espouses the long foot, and the son takes to wife the
short foot. And after the usual interval, the elder white outcaste,
who had married the daughter, rejoices at the birth of a boy, and the
younger white outcaste, who had married the mother, is gladdened by
the sight of a girl.
Now then, by my feet and your head, O warrior king Vikram, answer me
one question. What relationship will there be between the children of
the two white Pariahs?
Vikram’s brow waxed black as a charcoal-burner’s, when he again heard
the most irreverent oath ever proposed to mortal king. The question
presently attracted his attention, and he turned over the Baital’s
words in his head, confusing the ties of filiality, brotherhood, and
relationship, and connection in general.
‘Hem!’ said the warrior king, at last perplexed, and remembering, in
his perplexity, that he had better hold his tongue—‘ahem!’
‘I think your majesty spoke?’ asked the Vampire, in an inquisitive
and insinuating tone of voice.
‘Hem!’ ejaculated the monarch.
The Baital held his peace for a few minutes, coughing once or twice
impatiently. He suspected that the extraordinary nature of this last
tale, combined with the use of the future tense, had given rise to a
taciturnity so unexpected in the warrior king. He therefore asked if
Vikram the Brave would not like to hear another little anecdote.
This time the king did not even say ‘hem!’ Having walked at an
unusually rapid pace, he distinguished at a distance the fire kindled
by the devotee, and he hurried towards it with an effort which left
him no breath wherewith to speak, even had he been so inclined.
‘Since your majesty is so completely dumbfoundered by it, perhaps
this acute young prince may be able to answer my question?’
insinuated the Baital, after a few minutes of anxious suspense.
But Dharma Dhwaj answered not a syllable.
CONCLUSION.
At Raja Vikram’s silence the Baital was greatly surprised, and he
praised the royal courage and resolution to the skies. Still he did
not give up the contest at once.
‘Allow me, great king,’ pursued the Demon, in a dry tone of voice,
‘to wish you joy. After so many failures you have at length succeeded
in repressing your loquacity. I will not stop to inquire whether it
was humility and self-restraint which prevented your answering my
last question, or whether it was mere ignorance and inability. Of
course I suspect the latter, but to say the truth your condescension
in at last taking a Vampire’s advice, flatters me so much, that I
will not look too narrowly into cause or motive.’
Raja Vikram winced, but maintained a stubborn silence, squeezing his
lips lest they should open involuntarily.
‘Now, however, your majesty has mortified, we will suppose, a
somewhat exacting vanity, I also will in my turn forego the pleasure
which I had anticipated in seeing you a corpse and in entering your
royal body for a short time, just to know how queer it must feel to
be a king. And what is more, I will now perform my original promise,
and you shall derive from me a benefit which none but myself can
bestow. First, however, allow me to ask you, will you let me have a
little more air?’
Dharma Dhwaj pulled his father’s sleeve, but this time Raja Vikram
required no reminder: wild horses or the executioner’s saw, beginning
at the shoulder, would not have drawn a word from him. Observing his
obstinate silence, the Baital, with an ominous smile, continued:
‘Now give ear, O warrior king, to what I am about to tell thee, and
bear in mind the giant’s saying, “A man is justified in killing
one who has a design to kill him.” The young merchant Mal Deo, who
placed such magnificent presents at your royal feet, and Shanta-Shil
the devotee-saint, who works his spells, incantations, and magical
rites in a cemetery on the banks of the Godavari river, are, as thou
knowest, one person—the terrible Jogi, whose wrath your father
aroused in his folly, and whose revenge your blood alone can satisfy.
With regard to myself, the oilman’s son, the same Jogi, fearing least
I might interfere with his projects of universal dominion, slew me by
the power of his penance, and has kept me suspended, a trap for you,
head downwards from the siras-tree.
‘That Jogi it was, you now know, who sent you to fetch me back to
him on your back. And when you cast me at his feet he will return
thanks to you and praise your valour, perseverance and resolution to
the skies. I warn you to beware. He will lead you to the shrine of
Durga, and when he has finished his adoration he will say to you, “O
great king, salute my deity with the eight-limbed reverence.”’
Here the Vampire whispered for a time and in a low tone, lest some
listening goblin might carry his words if spoken out loud to the ears
of the devotee Shanta-Shil.
At the end of the monologue a rustling sound was heard. It proceeded
from the Baital, who was disengaging himself from the dead body in
the bundle, and the burden became sensibly lighter upon the monarch’s
back.
The departing Baital, however, did not forget to bid farewell to the
warrior king and his son. He complimented the former for the last
time, in his own way, upon the royal humility and the prodigious
self-mortification which he had displayed—qualities, he remarked,
which never failed to ensure the proprietor’s success in all the
worlds.
Raja Vikram stepped out joyfully, and soon reached the
burning-ground. There he found the Jogi, dressed in his usual habit,
a deerskin thrown over his back, and twisted reeds instead of a
garment hanging round his loins. The hair had fallen from his limbs
and his skin was bleached ghastly white by exposure to the elements.
A fire seemed to proceed from his mouth, and the matted locks
dropping from his head to the ground were changed by the rays of the
sun, to the colour of gold or saffron. He had the beard of a goat
and the ornaments of a king; his shoulders were high and his arms
long, reaching to his knees: his nails grew to such a length as to
curl round the ends of his fingers, and his feet resembled those of a
tiger. He was drumming upon a skull, and incessantly exclaiming, ‘Ho,
Kali! ho, Durga! ho, Devi!’
[Illustration: There he found the Jogi.]
As before, strange beings were holding their carnival in the Jogi’s
presence. Monstrous Asuras, giant goblins, stood grimly gazing upon
the scene with fixed eyes and motionless features. Rakshasas and
messengers of Yama, fierce and hideous, assumed at pleasure the
shapes of foul and ferocious beasts. Nagas and Bhutas, partly human
and partly bestial, disported themselves in throngs about the upper
air, and were dimly seen in the faint light of the dawn. Mighty
Daityas, Bramha-daityas, and Pretas, the size of a man’s thumb, or
dried up like leaves, and Pisachas of terrible power guarded the
place. There were enormous goats, vivified by the spirits of those
who had slain Brahmans; things with the bodies of men and the faces
of horses, camels, and monkeys; hideous worms containing the souls
of those priests who had drunk spirituous liquors; men with one
leg and one ear, and mischievous blood-sucking demons, who in life
had stolen church property. There were vultures, wretches that had
violated the beds of their spiritual fathers, restless ghosts that
had loved low-caste women, shades for whom funeral rites had not been
performed, and who could not cross the dread Vaitarani stream,[188]
and vital souls fresh from the horrors of Tamisra, or utter darkness,
and the Usipatra Vana, or the sword-leaved forest. Pale spirits,
Alayas, Gumas, Baitals, and Yakshas,[189] beings of a base and
vulgar order, glided over the ground, amongst corpses and skeletons
animated by female fiends, Dakinis, Yoginis, Hakinis, and Shankinis,
which were dancing in frightful revelry. The air was filled with
supernatural sights and sounds, cries of owls and jackals, cats and
crows, dogs, asses, and vultures, high above which rose the clashing
of the bones with which the Jogi sat drumming upon the skull before
him, and tending a huge cauldron of oil whose smoke was of blue fire.
But as he raised his long lank arm, silver-white with ashes, the
demons fled, and a momentary silence succeeded to their uproar. The
tigers ceased to roar and the elephants to scream; the bears raised
their snouts from their foul banquets, and the wolves dropped from
their jaws the remnants of human flesh. And when they disappeared,
the hooting of the owl, and ghastly ‘ha! ha!’ of the curlew, and
the howling of the jackal died away in the far distance, leaving a
silence still more oppressive.
[188] The Hindu Styx.
[189] From Yaksha, to eat; as Rakshasas are from Raksha to
preserve. See Hardy’s _Manual of Buddhism_, p. 57.
As Raja Vikram entered the burning-ground, the hollow sound of
solitude alone met his ear. Sadly wailed the wet autumnal blast.
The tall gaunt trees groaned aloud, and bowed and trembled like
slaves bending before their masters. Huge purple clouds and patches
and lines of glaring white mist coursed furiously across the black
expanse of firmament, discharging threads and chains and lozenges
and balls of white and blue, purple and pink lightning, followed by
the deafening crash and roll of thunder, the dreadful roaring of the
mighty wind, and the torrents of plashing rain. At times was heard
in the distance the dull gurgling of the swollen river, interrupted
by explosions, as slips of earth-bank fell headlong into the stream.
But once more the Jogi raised his arm and all was still: nature lay
breathless, as if awaiting the effect of his tremendous spells.