AMONG FRIENDS.
The next day being Friday, or the Sabbath, there was a larger
attendance than usual in the mosque, for all God-fearing men, and some
women with them, did no work, and attended the stated prayers. After
the noontide devotions, there gathered round the old Syud a great
number of people, and he thought it a good opportunity to take leave of
them. Accordingly, after begging all to be seated, he addressed them
much as follows:--
"You have been kind to me, friends," he said, in a voice much broken
by emotion, "and, had it been the will of the Disposer of all events,
I would have remained with you till I died. But man's will is not
God's will, and my heart tells me, nay, whispers to me unceasingly,
by the Lord's prompting, 'Thou hast not attained what is desirable
and necessary for those who aspire to perfection in the holy calling
of a true Syud. Thou callest thyself a Dervish, and some call thee
Musháekh, or holy one, but thou hast not attained even the rank of
a Fakeer. Thou hast never been elected; thou, old as thou art, hast
never chosen a leader in the way of heavenly life (Turreequt), and
that above all things is needful for thy acceptance before God. Thou
hast led an easy life, never undergoing privation, and it is only in
relation to thy charity and good works that thou hast been protected
so far; and thy removal here was an act of divine mercy, and thy first
step in the Turreequt, which thou must fulfil. Seek, therefore, some
godly saint of great knowledge and experience in holy mysteries, and
tarry not till thou hast found him.' 'Tarry not! tarry not,' my heart
cries to me day and night. 'Thou art old and growing feeble, and if
thou delayest, a blessed portion may not be thy lot. Death may claim
thee, and after this warning what answer canst thou make to Moonkir and
Nukeer, the angels of death, who will examine thee in the tomb? and
how wilt thou be enabled to cross the bridge Al Sirat, sharper than a
sword?' Therefore, O beloved friends and brothers, my soul trembles as
it dwells on these divine truths. I cannot rest under them; I must seek
rest; I must follow the path of eternal life which has been opened to
me. I must not fear to meet the angels of death.
"I have been spared nearly eighty years, and have been idle and
slothful. True, I can plead that I was a prisoner and had no free will
of my own; but I am a prisoner no longer, and must go forth and speed
on ere it be too late; and therefore I go as I am, guided by the Lord,
and must not tarry, lest I be too late and fail."
Then the whole congregation burst into passionate weeping, and many
cries arose of "Stay, stay with us, and fear not, for thou art holy
and aged, and the Lord will have mercy on thy infirmity! Thou art
leading us as no one ever led us before. May the Lord reward thee!"
But the old recluse had prepared himself for all this. If it were
necessary for him to leave the town on Zóra's account, and that
seemed to him imperative, he had for some years past meditated the
assumption of the order of a Fakeer leading to that of a Musháekh.
He had applied for permission to visit some holy shrine and make
his public profession, but in vain; no one had had the authority in
Juldroog to grant such permission to a State prisoner, even though
his name and rank were unknown; and the Nawab Osman Beg's denial, on
his application, had been peculiarly offensive and discourteous. Now,
however, he was free; and, although that might have been a matter of
accident, the old man had come to the conclusion in his own mind that
it had been appointed by the Lord, and he reproached himself bitterly
that he had ever murmured against the seeming violence, and, indeed,
dishonour, which he had had to undergo on his sweet child's account.
The people saw it was no use to urge the old man further. He had
determined upon his own course, as most believed, by divine influence,
and who dared to oppose that? He told them finally that his friend,
Runga Naik, their lord, had provided him with a residence at the quiet
village of Kukeyra, where he should rest for a while in solitude, and
that any of his friends who desired ghostly council, or medicine, or
amulets could visit him there. Then he got up, and placing his hands
upon the heads of the children who were brought to him, and on those
who surrounded him, he departed amidst the prayers, blessings, and good
wishes of all.
On his return home he found Runga and Burma without, sitting under the
tree in the court-yard, who came forward and touched his feet with a
lowly reverence.
"I have taken leave of them all," said the Syud, with emotion; "but it
is well, it is as God wills, and whatever our destiny may be, it must
be fulfilled. The Lord has vouchsafed to me a much clearer view of my
duty than I had at Juldroog, and that, whatever betide, I must follow.
My only anxiety is about Zóra; and I have no fear, for the Almighty
will raise up friends to her; the orphan will not be deserted. To Abbas
Khan I have confided who I am, which even you must not know yet; and, I
think, he will help her, wherever she may be, when I have passed away."
They could only weep, for the old recluse was dear to them both,
notwithstanding their difference of faith. And the old man continued--
"To you, Runga Naik, I commit what worldly property I possess, which
is all in the box we have sealed up; and I pray you to keep it, to be
reclaimed by Zóra if ever she is in a condition to do so. Keep it
in your own treasury. There is not much in it; some ornaments of her
mother's, some gold that belonged to her, and such jewels as I was
presented with when I was at the King's court in honour. If I die, my
child's rank would be known by them. Now she shares my condition of a
Fakeer, and we can live on the alms the faithful may bestow upon me.
And you spoke of a temporary resting-place at Kukeyra, is it ready for
us?"
"Burma has been arranging it, and it is now ready for you, Huzrut; but
it is a poor place, only a thatched dwelling, in which an old Fakeer
lived for many years, and died lately. It is in a little garden by
itself, just outside the village gate; but my men there have orders to
watch it day and night, and no harm can come to you. You will be nearly
alone, for except the Moolla, who is very ignorant, there are but few
Mussulmans, and they are only poor weavers and cultivators. Ha! who
are these? Some visitors to ask your blessing, Huzrut; are they to be
admitted? By the Gods! I see men from Juldroog, and one of the Nawab's
slaves, what can it mean?"
"Has Zóra returned?" asked her grandfather. "Mamoolla, is the child
there?"
"I am here, Abba," she replied, coming to the door of the house. "What
need you?"
"Runga tells me that some persons have come from Juldroog, thou hadst
better keep thyself close;" but, as he spoke, the women entered by the
outside door; and as she slunk back into a dim corner, she saw that the
arrivals were Máma Luteefa and Shireen-bee, her servant, who saluted
the old man with respect.
"We have a letter from the Nawab," said Máma Luteefa, "and he has sent
us to deliver it and to plead for him."
"As-tagh-fur-oola! God forbid!" cried the Syud, putting his hands to
his ears, "that any message should reach me from that bold, bad man.
Leave me; I will not hear you."
"He is penitent now," returned the Máma, wiping her eyes. "He will do
whatever you please."
"He is worn to a shadow," said Shireen-bee, sniffling and blowing her
nose. "He will die of grief, Huzrut, for Zóra-bee. Will she not relent?
Osman Beg will have the grandest marriage performed."
"Here," interrupted Máma Luteefa, "if Zóra wishes, in the midst
of her friends. He will come without a following, and place
himself--he--he--in voluntary captivity to the beauteous Zóra. He will
settle on her a dower of fifty thousand rupees, and an elephant could
not carry the clothes he has provided. If my lord will read his letter
he will see that I tell the truth."
"Let Zóra open and read it," said the old man, gently. "She can choose
for herself. I will say nothing, for rank and wealth may have favour
in her sight, though they have none in mine. Zóra! Zóra!" and she came
forth, veiling her face, and sat down beside him.
"Read this," he said; "it is from Osman Beg; and I would that these his
emissaries heard thy decision from thine own lips. Open the letter and
read it to me."
The epistle was from Osman Beg himself, whose orthography and spelling
were none of the best. He had evidently not trusted his moonshee to
copy it. It contained all that Máma Luteefa and Shireen had enumerated,
and much more in a fulsome style of flattery; and he would come to
Korikul, with his body servants only, to celebrate the marriage at any
time, or by any person, that might be approved of.
It was as much as she could do to read the letter. Zóra's face flushed,
and her eyes glowed at the remembrance of the insult and indignity
which had been put upon her; and when she had read it and put it down,
she burst into a violent flood of tears. "He might have spared thee
this last indignity, Abba," she sobbed, "knowing, as he does, that we
have been obliged to fly from his tyranny and become wanderers. And
these women, who failed to persuade me once when I was in their power,
might have guessed what the result of their mission would be when I
was free. Yet you are not to blame, Máma Luteefa. You were following
your trade, and he was giving you gold. He has even bribed you again.
Enough that you think it honourable and good. Now hear the last words
I will speak to either of you. Go! tell your master that I am now,
even as I was then. No wealth can tempt me, no threat can terrify
me; I go whither he cannot find me, and am henceforth a Fakeer with
my grandfather, whose lot I share, whatever it may be, till he passes
away. Go! and trouble us no more."
"And that is your answer, Zóra-bee?" said Máma Luteefa, somewhat
scornfully. "You refuse, child, all that I had contrived for you."
"I have spoken," returned the girl; and she sat still, idly picking up
pebbles from the sand.
"And how didst thou cross the river, Mámajee?" asked Runga, in his
rough Dekhan dialect.
"What business is that of yours?" said Shireen-bee. "My mistress does
not speak with Beydurs."
"Perhaps she would speak; perhaps she would be made to speak if I had
her head shaved and she were set on an ass. I am master here, and can
do justice after my own rough fashion. Will ye answer the question?"
If it had not been painful to witness, the terror of the two women
would have been ludicrous. They looked hither and thither without
seeing the possibility of aid, and at last fell down before the old
Syud in an agony of alarm. "Mercy! mercy!" they cried frantically.
"Spare us; we are only poor women earning our bread. There in the fort
he threatened us; here we are also terrified. Mercy! mercy! let us go,
and we will hasten away."
"Ye have not answered my question, Mámajee," rejoined Runga. "How did
ye cross the river?"
"The Nawab sent us by the lower ferry, and we said we were on a
pilgrimage from Moodgul. We went round a long way before we could reach
the place. They would not let us cross from the fort."
"Good," said Runga, with a smile of content. "Then our people are not
to be tempted; and we must secure the boats below, Burma. As ye did not
come by the upper ferry, ye shall return by it," he continued to the
women; "and when ye get back offer fatehas that your hair is on your
head. Take them, Burma, and despatch them by Jumálpoor; and if ever I
see you again here, or hear of any of the Nawab's people being on this
side the river again, I will have their ears cut off and tied about
their necks."
"And there is no answer to our master's letter?" said Shireen, somewhat
impudently. "And what shall I say to him from thee, my fairy?"
"Begone!" shouted Runga. "Up, and begone! Else beware! I am not used to
have my will disputed;" and seizing them by the shoulders, he pushed
them out of the door into the street; and in a few minutes more, with
fresh bearers for Máma Luteefa's litter, they had passed the gates
under an escort of Beydurs, and were on their way. We need not detail
their reception in the fort; suffice it to say that two days after
Osman Beg directed their hair to be shorn, and, riding on asses, as we
have already mentioned, they were expelled the fort.
"Shookr! Shookr! Thanks, a thousand times, that they are gone. Runga,
I owe this to thee; else they had persecuted me, and Zóra, too, poor
child. Do not weep; you are safe now. Blessed be the Lord! Safe from
persecution! Hast thou the letter, Zóra?"
"It is here, Abba. What shall I do with it?"
"Keep it for me," he replied; "I would fain have it shown to Abbas
Khan. Wilt thou take it, Runga?"
"Nay," he replied, "I should but lose it; let Zóra keep it safely. And
now, Huzrut, be led by my advice. Meeah must have reached Beejapoor
before this, and some of my people are going for their yearly State
services. As I have told thee, I am obliged to go westwards; but they
will escort thee safely, and make ye both over to Meeah if he be there;
and if not, get ye a lodging near the Chishtee Saint, in the quarter of
the Dervishes."
The old Syud shook his head. "No," he said; "the path of my salvation
lies to the east, and the Murdan-ool-Ghyb points thither on Monday,
when we must depart. I cannot, under the revelations made to me, change
my direction or my purpose; and after what has happened to-day, I feel
as if there were additional pressure put upon me to depart speedily."
"As you will, Huzrut, as you will," said Runga, kindly; "only I wish
it were otherwise. I wish you would go direct to Beejapoor, and sit
down at the palace gate till you are recognised and relieved. This
travelling is a sore trial both to you and the child; and who have you
to help you?"
"Do not care for me, Abba," said Zóra, with a sweet smile. "Now they
are gone I have no fear--none. And you know we shall have Ahmed with
us, Runga Naik; he refuses to leave us, and says he will become a
Fakeer with Abba. So we shall not be alone. And perhaps I shall become
one also, if Mamoolla does; but I have not felt the call yet, and shall
wait awhile."
"Take my advice, my child," said Runga. "If I am not wrong, and my
Brahmin astrologer is not wrong, there are better things in store
for thee than the skirt of a Fakeer, even if there be some pain in
attaining them; and Vishnu Punt is a strangely wise man, who can tell
everything. Shall I bring him to thee?"
"No," she said, quietly. "That might not be lawful for me. Nothing can
possibly turn Abba from his purpose, and I should only be perplexed and
terrified if your Brahmin's directions were different from his. No; let
me be. I do but follow my fate, Runga Naik; and be the way rough or
smooth, it must be travelled in faith and trust."
No more remained to be done. All Saturday and Sunday there were other
sad services in the mosque, and during both days visitors were
constant, begging for charms, amulets, and medicines; and by many small
gifts of money, vermicelli and other simple necessaries were provided.
Finally, early on Monday they left Korikul, soon after daylight,
after partaking of an early meal which the Moolla and his wife had
prepared. Burma Naik, with an escort, accompanied them, the old Syud
and Zóra riding easy ponies with saddle-bags, which Runga had procured
for them, with Mamoolla mounted on another, which carried their small
amount of cooking utensils, while the simple Ahmed drove another pony
laden with their worldly goods. So the little procession was formed,
which went out of the gate of the town eastwards to Kukeyra, and which
was followed with dim, tearful eyes by Runga. "When shall I see them
again?" he murmured. "Whither may not the old man's new projects lead
him? Free, after years of seclusion, he will not now readily settle
down, even for Zóra's sake, and in respect to her is as simple as a
child. May the Gods protect them, and lead them safely."
It was a fresh pleasant morning when the little party left Korikul, and
the strange, novel motion was delightful to Zóra. All her life she had
been confined to the gloomy fortress and its rocks, with the roaring
or murmuring river ever in her ears. Now there were green fields and
luxuriant waving grain; cotton with its bright yellow blossoms, and
wayside plants and flowers all new to her. In place of the frowning
rocks of the ravine of Juldroog, there was an open fertile country,
with some low hills on the left hand, and a level plain to the right
which sloped gradually down to the great river, which could be seen at
intervals gleaming in the sun, while the rugged peak of the fortress
seemed to rise out of the basin of hills and rocks; and Zóra could
even see the small white pavilion on the high rock before the palace,
where, in days gone by, she had often sat to watch the cataract and
the boiling foaming river beneath it. Should she ever see them again?
Even her grandfather, generally so silent, was stirred by a new sense
of freedom which he had not known for years. Ah, so many now! Aged as
he was, he felt a new strength and power as the stout beast he bestrode
with the air of a cavalier walked on firmly and speedily. "This is
delicious, Zóra!" he cried. "No longer the few steps between the house
and the mosque, no longer the close stifling air of the narrow ravine
of Juldroog, but the free fresh air of the country and the fields. I
cannot see them, child, but their perfume refreshes me, and I feel new
life and vigour. Surely it is a blessed beginning of the path we have
chosen; and thou, be thankful then in thy heart, child, as I am."
"I am thankful, Abba," she replied, urging her pony up to his side.
"And I am free, too, from the danger that threatened me. I could never
have been at peace in Korikul after those women had found us out; and
Burma tells me there is no danger now, for there are Beydurs in every
village, and there will be orders given to pass us on from stage to
stage, and to guard us always. So we can go miles and miles, further
and further; and he will take care of the cows and the goats while we
are away, and send them to us when we return, or wherever we may be."
And thus they travelled on their first stage of a few miles, chatting
with each other, while the old man every now and then recited portions
of the Koran, or from Persian poets that he remembered, and even
passages in Arabic of the Turreequt, which at last he had undertaken.
Presently Burma Naik, who had been riding in advance, stopped and said
to them, "Yonder is the village, and my horn-blower will sound a signal
that we approach. It is my own village, the Beydurs there belong to my
division, and my wife and family live here, but when Runga is away on
his duty I reside at Korikul. Is not my home pretty? I think it the
most beautiful of all our villages, and there is not one empty house in
it. But you will see it better when we get nearer."
Even from the distance they were, the appearance of Kukeyra was very
inviting. It seemed like a large cluster of houses rising towards the
centre, and was embosomed in trees and gardens. To the left the low
range of hills rose considerably, and were covered with wood, part
of which extended along the road by which they were travelling, and
being without underwood or jungle, looked like a park. Cattle were
grazing in large numbers on the short green sward, or lying under the
shade of large trees. "This is our hunting ground, lady," said Burma
to Zóra, "and there are plenty of wild hogs in the small ravines up
there; and when they are driven from thence they take to the islands
in the river, so we always know where to get them when we have a hunt.
And look! yonder are antelopes grazing in a herd, and there are hares
and pea-fowl among the grass, and my people protect them all. You have
never seen these things before."
"No, indeed," replied Zóra; "how could I in the fort? But I have seen
panthers and bears climbing about, and pea-fowl sometimes came down to
the river side to drink, and I and other girls used to look at them."
"Well, you shall see all here, if you like--that is, if Abba does not
object. But here no one is veiled, for we are all Beydurs, except a few
farmers and weavers, and but seven families of Mussulmans, one of whom
is the Moolla; but he is not like Abba; he cannot read or write, and,
indeed, is not very different from a Beydur, and he is a capital shot."
Zóra's eyes opened wide at the idea of a Moolla who could only shoot
well. "And there is no mosque, then?" she asked.
"No, lady, not even one; there is only a thatched shed which is used
for the Mohurrum, which the Beydurs keep as well as the Mussulmans; but
you will see all yourself. Now blow thy horn, Bheema," he said to the
trumpeter, when they had reached the summit of a slight elevation,
which gave them a better view of the village. "Blow stoutly, that
they may hear;" and the blast was long and varied, with a peculiarly
strange cadence at the close. It was evidently heard, for after a short
interval, during which they remained where they were, a similar blast
was blown from one of the towers of the gate, on which there was a red
flag with a figure of Hunooman, the monkey-god, on its field in white.
"Well blown, Krishna," said Burma, laughing; "'tis a hearty welcome to
you, Huzrut. If the Rajah himself had been approaching it could not
have been more complete; and hark! there are the pipes."
As they neared the village, Zóra saw how prosperous it looked. All the
houses to be seen were perfect, and the wall itself was perfect too,
and its bastions firmly built of stone. Gardens filled the space up to
the wall, among which were some graceful clumps of bamboos, with mango
and tamarind trees, with gardens of lemon trees for supplying the dyers
at Korikul with the juice of the fruit, as well as the population for
domestic use. Here and there, too, a solitary cocoa-nut tree waved its
graceful foliage in the air; and as to date palms, they were numerous
in groves to the south. Zóra expected to see their new home at every
turn, but there were only solitary huts in the gardens, for watchers
and labourers.
At last, near a large bright green sugar-cane field, they met the
village procession and the musicians, who kept up a spirited but
shrill piece of music intended for a welcome, accompanied by their own
drummers; and four Beydurs, with their large tambourine drums, leaped,
strutted, circled round and round, and performed their most elaborate
exercises. The din of the music prevented Zóra from asking questions,
and the party could only follow the lord of the place, who rode first.
At the gate of the village, however, was the real reception. Pointing
out the venerable Syud to all, the authorities, that is, the head man,
or Patell, who was not a Beydur, the Kurnum or accountant, a Brahmin,
the blacksmith, the carpenter, and many others, touched the old man's
feet and Zóra's, and bid them welcome; and they waved trays with
lighted lamps in them, and flowers over their heads; and when this was
all done, the little procession formed once more, and proceeded through
the main street of the village, which was cleanly swept, and the houses
ornamented with bright cloths which hung over the parapets of their
roofs.
The street was lined with men and women, holding up their children to
see the holy man; and Zóra already saw several faces among the women
that she knew, who had come to Juldroog for medicine for their children
or their husbands; and it was evident she was not forgotten. Every one
was dressed in their best, and the whole place seemed what it might be
at a festival. Thus they passed out of the eastern gate of the village,
and almost close to it, a little withdrawn, was the Tukeea, or "Pillow
of residence," which was to be their abode.
It was a low, long thatched cabin, whitewashed without, standing in
a small piece of ground by itself, and shaded by a noble banyan tree
and others about its precincts. A cloud of parroquets, green pigeons,
mynas, and other birds, rose from the giant branches, and flew
screaming into the air as the music passed from under the gateway, and
gladdened Zóra's heart. When had she not had birds about her? Then
Abba was lifted from his pony, and a carpet spread in the shade, and
everyone came and bowed before him, and bade him welcome. Even little
children were held out by their mothers, that the old man might lay
his hands on them. And the Moolla was there, who looked like a Beydur
soldier more than a priest, and besought Abba to teach him something.
Then the time came at which they might enter the house, which, it must
be told in secret, had been fixed by the Brahmin astrologer, as there
was none other; but he was present also, as were others belonging to
the temple, to welcome one for whom all the country round had respect
and affection. Indeed, it was a moving sight to see all these people,
strangers in faith and previously unknown, receive the venerable Syud
as they did, and pay him honour; and Zóra's heart was stirred within
her, and she wept tears of joy as she sat behind part of the trunk of
the giant tree and heard women calling to her, "We bless you because
you helped the sick and denied no one."
Then her grandfather was led into the house by the Moolla and the
Patell, as accepted by the whole community; and Zóra and old Mamoolla
followed, and found the place neat and clean and very commodious,
for there were three comfortable rooms, that in the centre being the
largest. There was a kitchen behind, a shed for the two cows and the
goats, and a verandah along part of the front, in which her father
could sit. There was a well near the house, where many people from the
village came to draw water. Above all, it was very quiet, fitted for
religious meditation, and, as Zóra thought, the very place for her
grandfather in his present frame of mind. And when all had retired, and
the beds they had found ready for them were covered with their thin
mattresses and quilts, and the old man lay down to take rest after his
unaccustomed exercise, he called Zóra to him, and she went and put her
head into his lap, and he said, with a quivering voice, "The Lord has
been good to us, my child, forget not this in thy thoughts;" and he
lay down, and slept peacefully. Without were the songs of birds; the
cooing of ringdoves and pigeons in the great tree; the fresh breath
of the sweet air came through the doorway, and the murmur of voices
in the village seemed assuring. Without, a bed of purple amaranths
and marigolds glowed in the sun, and pretty lizards basked in it, and
chirped, or sometimes looked towards the house as if to say, Who have
come to disturb us? Yet it was a pleasant place, and full of rest and
peace; and she was thankful, very thankful.