KARIM AT WORK AND PLAY
THE village where Karim lived lay at the mouth of a little valley. Down
this valley ran a stream of sparkling water that came out of the ground
about a quarter of a mile above the village. This was not a spring, but
a "kareez," for beyond it could be seen a long line of pits, joined
at the bottom by an underground channel, through which the water ran.
The road lay by their side, and in two places the path divided, a part
passing on each side of a pit.
Once while Karim lay flat on the ground looking over the smooth sides
at the water trickling across the bottom of the pit, he asked,
"Doesn't any one ever fall in?"
[Illustration: "HERE KARIM SAT ALL DAY."]
"Why should he?" replied Dada. "Can't you see the hole plainly enough?"
"But suppose it was dark?"
"At night honest men are in bed, and robbers know the roads. But if God
wills that a man shall fall in, why, he will fall in, and cannot help
himself. It is Fate."
The stream ran down the valley past an orchard of apricot and cherry
trees. By its side were willow trees, with short, thick trunks, and a
row of poplars, that seemed to Karim the tallest trees he could think
of. Then it ran into the village pond. Twice a week all the water was
let out of this pond, to be used in watering the fields, but it soon
filled up again.
When Karim was seven years old Dada began to send him here with his
cousin, Ali, to wash the two big black Indian buffalos which he and
Mashaddi used for plowing. It was hard to say who enjoyed it the most,
the buffalos, who dearly loved the water, or the boys, who rode upon
their broad backs, and splashed and swam about during the warm summer
evenings as long as they pleased.
Dada soon gave Karim other work as well. He took him to the field and
lifted him up upon the yoke between the buffalos. Here Karim sat all
day, to keep the yoke by his weight from pressing against the throats
of the buffalos as they slowly drew the plow back and forth across the
field.
Next Dada sent him to watch the cows as they grazed in the open meadow
in the lowland, or among the dried grasses on the hillside. Here he
spent whole days with the other boys, going swimming and playing
"marbles." For marbles they used the bones from the joints of sheep's
legs.
The next year, in early summer, Dada told him to keep the birds away
from the cherries and apricots in the little orchard, by shouting and
clapping two boards together. At first this was great fun, but he
became very tired of it in a few days, and his voice grew hoarse and
rough. Then came harvest time, and he went out to the hot field and
carried water to the reapers, and rode upon the straw cutter or swept
up the grain upon the smooth threshing floor until he was so tired that
he could hardly stand.
About this time he fell sick again. His head ached and he was hot with
fever. The doctor wrote a prayer with the blood of a lamb, and Nana
burned the paper and poured the ashes into a cup of water which she
made Karim drink, but it did no good. He lay on the floor on a thin
mattress dressed in his every-day, dirty clothes, and the flies kept
settling on his eyes and mouth.
Nana and Grandmother were as kind as they knew how to be. They took
great pains to get the tongue of a starling, for a woman said that this
would cure him, but, instead, he became worse. At last he broke out
with the smallpox.
"All have the smallpox," said Grandmother, when she saw this; "what can
we do?"
Some of the neighbours brought their young children to see him. "They
must all have this sickness," was their reason, "and it is best that
they have it now, when they are young." In this way Fatima caught the
disease, and died.
Hers was a dreary little funeral. The house was filled with the noise
of the sobs and wailing of her mother, who was nearly frantic with
grief, and with the cries of a few of her friends. No one thought of
flowers, and there was no music. As the funeral was that of a girl,
only three men walked behind the body when Mashaddi carried it to the
grave. Of course no women went with him, for that was not the custom.
Soon after Karim got over the smallpox he began to go to school for a
part of the year. He was proud of this, because a great many of the
boys were too poor to go to school. As for the girls, of course people
never sent them. What would be the use? "Teach a girl! You might as
well try to teach a cat," they thought.
The teacher was the mullah. On the first day of school he and his
eight pupils came to Karim's home to welcome him. All were dressed
better than usual. Karim looked very gay in a brand new coat of bright
blue. Dada met the teacher with a present of three chickens. Then the
boys marched to the school in a straggling line, the teacher at the
head, the older boys chanting in a loud voice a song they had been
taught, and the three youngest carrying the chickens dangling by the
legs.
The school house was the mosque, or Muhammadan church. The room was
large and bare. Straw mats covered the floor. There were no blackboards
or maps or desks; indeed, most of the boys had never even seen a lead
pencil. The mullah sat upon his heels on a rug by the window with a
long stick in his hand. The boys sat upon the mats, facing him.
"You must come to school before breakfast," said the mullah. "If any
one eats any food before coming to his lessons I shall pull out his
ears."
If a boy was at all tardy he exclaimed, "You silly animal, hah! Have
you been eating, and so are late?"
"Oh no, indeed I did not eat anything!"
"Put out your tongue!"
Once Karim's breath smelled of onions, and the mullah gave him so sharp
a tap that he felt it for an hour.
They studied a little arithmetic, but spent most of the time learning
to write the Persian language, and to read from the Koran. As the
Koran was printed in the Arabic language, which none of the boys knew,
at first they did not understand what it meant, although the mullah
explained a great many things to them. It was very important to learn
to recite a good many chapters from this holy book, even if one could
not understand what he recited. No one could pray to God in a way that
was pleasing, the mullah said, unless he repeated in his prayer parts
of these chapters, which the holy prophet Muhammad long ago had brought
down from heaven.
Studying the Persian language was more interesting work. In a short
time Karim was given stories to read which told of the wonderful deeds
of King Solomon, who talked with the birds and made the spirits of the
air obey him. He also read other interesting stories, very much like
those to be found in the "Arabian Nights' Tales."
While they were studying the boys all swayed their bodies forwards
and back and read from their books in a loud sing-song tone. If a boy
became tired he did not dare to stop. Karim did so once, but a stroke
from the mullah's stick and his question, "Son of a dog, why are you
not studying?" made him yell out with the loudest.
He soon learned not to ask questions. Once when there had been a slight
earthquake shock he asked what it was that had made the earth shake.
"The ox," said the mullah, "which holds up the earth upon his
twenty-one horns has become angry, and is shaking his horns."
"What is he angry at?" asked Karim.
"God knows, and He has not told us," said the mullah.
"I wonder what the ox stands upon," added Karim, after a minute.
"If it were right for us to know God would have told us," was the
answer. "Such questions are irreverent, and fools ask them. Pray to
God to forgive you, and then begin your study again."
When Karim was eleven years old Almas was married. The friends of the
bridegroom came to the house, and were given a good dinner. Almas was
so bundled up that no one could recognize her. Then they put her on a
horse, and in a noisy procession led her off to her new home. She now
lived in a village ten miles away, and Karim saw her only two or three
times a year. He missed his sister for a long time, because she had
always waited upon him so carefully.
As the wedding occurred a little before the great festival of "Norooz,"
that helped him forget his loss. "Norooz," or the festival for the new
year, came in the early spring, when everyone was glad that winter
had gone. Mashaddi said that the world came to life then. A few days
before the festival Karim's head was shaved, and the nails of his
fingers and toes were coloured red. He was given a new suit of clothes
exactly like Dada's in cut, and when dressed in them looked like a
little old man. "But then," said Nana, "he is almost grown up now, and
ought to look so."
She arranged plates full of nuts, raisins, dried apricots, quinces,
figs, dates and candy (there must be seven kinds of food, and their
names must each begin with an S) and Karim took these as presents to
the mullah and to a few other friends. Dada bought some sugar, tea,
tobacco and candy, and all was ready.
The festival lasted for a week. On the first day Dada and Karim (now
that he was old enough) sat upon their heels in the room to receive
callers. Each caller, as he entered, bowed low and said, "Peace be to
you! May the festival be a happy one."
"May you be fortunate," replied Dada.
"How is your health?" asked the caller.
"Praise be to God, we are well."
Then, sitting down, they talked together, and took turns smoking from
the water-pipe. After the third cup of tea had been served the caller
rose and said good-bye.
The greatest fun was on Tuesday evening, when the roofs of the village
were alight with blazing pin wheels, Roman candles, small volcanoes and
rockets.
Children's Day was also a lively time. Several of the young men of the
village dressed up as clowns. They had some musicians with cymbals with
them, and went about saying and doing absurd things. Karim and his
school mates dressed themselves up like robbers, with beards made of
cotton, and canes for spears, and went to the mullah's house.
[Illustration: "DADA AND KARIM STARTED VERY EARLY."]
"Give us some money, or we will rob you!" they shouted.
He laughed, and gave them enough to buy a plenty of candy.