I was told that Sannyasis were sometimes met with on a mountain called
Velly Mallai Hills, in the Coimbatore District, and trying to meet with
one, I determined to ascend this mountain. I traveled up its steep
sides and arrived at an opening, narrow and low, into which I crept on
all fours. Going up some twenty yards I reached a cave, into the
opening of which I thrust my head and shoulders. I could see into it
clearly, but felt a cold wind on my face, as if there was some opening
or crevice--so I looked carefully, but could see nothing. The room was
about twelve feet square. I did not go into it. I saw arranged round
its sides stones one cubit long, all placed upright. I was much
disappointed at there being no Sannyasi, and came back as I went,
pushing myself backwards as there was no room to turn. I was then told
Sannyasis had been met with in the dense sholas (thickets), and as my
work lay often in such places, I determined to prosecute my search, and
did so diligently, without, however, any success.
One day I contemplated a journey to Coimbatore on my own affairs, and
was walking up the road trying to make a bargain with a handy man whom I
desired to engage to carry me there; but as we could not come to terms,
I parted with him and turned into the Lovedale Road at 6 P.M. I had not
gone far when I met a man dressed like a Sannyasi, who stopped and spoke
to me. He observed a ring on my finger and asked me to give it to him.
I said he was welcome to it, but inquired what he would give me in
return, he said, "I don't care particularly about it; I would rather
have that flour and sugar in the bundle on your back." "I will give you
that with pleasure," I said, and took down my bundle and gave it to him.
"Half is enough for me," he said; but subsequently changing his mind
added, "now let me see what is in your bundle," pointing to my other
parcel. "I can't give you that." He said, "Why cannot you give me your
swami (family idol)?" I said, "It is my swami, I will not part with it;
rather take my life." On this he pressed me no more, but said, "Now you
had better go home." I said, "I will not leave you." "Oh you must," he
said, "you will die here of hunger." "Never mind," I said, "I can but
die once." "You have no clothes to protect you from the wind and rain;
you may meet with tigers," he said. "I don't care," I replied. "It is
given to man once to die. What does it signify how he dies?" When I
said this he took my hand and embraced me, and immediately I became
unconscious. When I returned to consciousness, I found myself with the
Sannyasi in a place new to me on a hill, near a large rock and with a
big shola near. I saw in the shola right in front of us, that there was
a pillar of fire, like a tree almost. I asked the Sannyasi what was
that like a high fire. "Oh," he said, "most likely a tree ignited by
some careless wood-cutters."
"No," I said, "it is not like any common fire--there is no smoke, nor
are there flames--and it's not lurid and red. I want to go and see it."
"No, you must not do so, you cannot go near that fire and escape alive."
"Come with me then," I begged. "No--I cannot," he said, "if you wish to
approach it, you must go alone and at your own risk; that tree is the
tree of knowledge and from it flows the milk of life: whoever drinks
this never hungers again." Thereupon I regarded the tree with awe.
I next observed five Sannyasis approaching. They came up and joined the
one with me, entered into talk, and finally pulled out a hookah and
began to smoke. They asked me if I could smoke. I said no. One of
them said to me, let us see the swami in your bundle (here gives a
description of the same). I said, "I cannot, I am not clean enough to
do so." "Why not perform your ablutions in yonder stream?" they said.
"If you sprinkle water on your forehead that will suffice." I went to
wash my hands and feet, and laved my head, and showed it to them. Next
they disappeared. "As it is very late, it is time you returned home,"
said my first friend. "No," I said, "now I have found you I will not
leave you." "No, no," he said, "you must go home. You cannot leave the
world yet; you are a father and a husband, and you must not neglect
your worldly duties. Follow the footsteps of your late respected uncle;
he did not neglect his worldly affairs, though he cared for the
interests of his soul; you must go, but I will meet you again when you
get your fortnightly holiday." On this he embraced me, and I again
became unconscious. When I returned to myself, I found myself at the
bottom of Col. Jones' Coffee Plantation above Coonor on a path. Here
the Sannyasi wished me farewell, and pointing to the high road below, he
said, "Now you will know your way home;" but I would not part from him.
I said, "All this will appear a dream to me unless you will fix a day
and promise to meet me here again." "I promise," he said. "No, promise
me by an oath on the head of my idol." Again he promised, and touched
the head of my idol. "Be here," he said, "this day fortnight." When
the day came I anxiously kept my engagement and went and sat on the
stone on the path. I waited a long time in vain. At last I said to
myself, "I am deceived, he is not coming, he has broken his oath"--and
with grief I made a poojah. Hardly had these thoughts passed my mind,
than lo! he stood beside me. "Ah, you doubt me," he said; "why this
grief." I fell at his feet and confessed I had doubted him and begged
his forgiveness. He forgave and comforted me, and told me to keep in my
good ways and he would always help me; and he told me and advised me
about all my private affairs without my telling him one word, and he
also gave me some medicines for a sick friend which I had promised to
ask for but had forgotten. This medicine was given to my friend and he
is perfectly well now.