[Transcriber's Note: Bold text is surrounded by =equal signs= and italic
text is surrounded by _underscores_.]
Our Little Hindu Cousin
THE
Little Cousin Series
(TRADE MARK)
Each volume illustrated with six or more full-page plates in tint.
Cloth, 12mo, with decorative cover, per volume, 60 cents
LIST OF TITLES
BY MARY HAZELTON WADE
(unless otherwise indicated)
=Our Little African Cousin=
=Our Little Alaskan Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Arabian Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Armenian Cousin=
By Constance F. Curlewis
=Our Little Australian Cousin=
=Our Little Brazilian Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Brown Cousin=
=Our Little Canadian Cousin=
By Elizabeth R. MacDonald
=Our Little Chinese Cousin=
By Isaac Taylor Headland
=Our Little Cuban Cousin=
=Our Little Dutch Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Egyptian Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little English Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Eskimo Cousin=
=Our Little French Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little German Cousin=
=Our Little Greek Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Hawaiian Cousin=
=Our Little Hindu Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Indian Cousin=
=Our Little Irish Cousin=
=Our Little Italian Cousin=
=Our Little Japanese Cousin=
=Our Little Jewish Cousin=
=Our Little Korean Cousin=
By H. Lee M. Pike
=Our Little Mexican Cousin=
By Edward C. Butler
=Our Little Norwegian Cousin=
=Our Little Panama Cousin=
By H. Lee M. Pike
=Our Little Philippine Cousin=
=Our Little Porto Rican Cousin=
=Our Little Russian Cousin=
=Our Little Scotch Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Siamese Cousin=
=Our Little Spanish Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Swedish Cousin=
By Claire M. Coburn
=Our Little Swiss Cousin=
=Our Little Turkish Cousin=
L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
New England Building, Boston, Mass.
[Illustration: CHOLA IN HIS FATHER'S SHOP.
(_See page 19_)]
Our Little Hindu Cousin
By Blanche McManus
_Author of "Our Little English Cousin," "Our
Little French Cousin," "Our Little Dutch
Cousin," "Our Little Scotch
Cousin," etc._
_Illustrated by_
The Author
[Illustration]
Boston
L. C. Page & Company
_MDCCCCVII_
_Copyright, 1907_
BY L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
(INCORPORATED)
_All rights reserved_
Second Impression, August, 1908
Preface
OUR little cousins of Hindustan are charming little people, even though
their manners and customs and their religion are so very different from
our own.
India is a big country, and there are many different races of people
living within its borders, the two principal ones being the Mohammedans
and the Hindus. The Mohammedans number about sixty millions and there
are about a hundred and eighty millions of Hindus, who are by far the
superior race.
The intelligence of the Hindus is of a very high order, but, like all
Eastern races, they have many superstitions. Their attention to their
food and drink and personal cleanliness is remarkable, and, though
their customs in this respect are peculiar, they follow a healthful and
sanitary manner of living which might well be practised by Western folk.
The arts and crafts of the Hindus and their trades and professions are
very strange and interesting, and the young people themselves invariably
grow up in the same occupations as their elders. There is no mixing of
the races or _castes_, and members of one caste always associate with
those of the same class.
But the English influence is making itself so strongly felt, that
frequently the children learn English as early in life as they do their
own language; so our little American cousins would almost always be able
to make of them good playfellows and would perhaps be able to learn many
valuable lessons from Our Little Hindu Cousins.
B. McM.
SUEZ, _January, 1907_.
Contents
CHAPTER PAGE
I. CHOLA AT HOME 1
II. A DAY IN THE BAZAAR 16
III. THE CHILDREN'S HOLIDAY 35
IV. THE CHILDREN TRAVEL IN THE BIG OX-WAGON 50
V. THE CHILDREN SEE BENARES AND GO HOME FOR A WEDDING 66
VI. THE LITTLE SAHIB SEES THE BIG ELEPHANTS 80
VII. CHOLA GOES ON A TIGER HUNT 94
List of Illustrations
PAGE
CHOLA IN HIS FATHER'S SHOP (_See page 19_) _Frontispiece_
BUYING SWEETS IN THE BAZAAR 30
"FIRST THERE CAME A BIG ELEPHANT" 57
"THESE THE CHILDREN TWISTED INTO WREATHS
AND THREW INTO THE RIVER" 69
THE MARRIAGE OF SHRIYA 76
"SUDDENLY, UP OUT OF THE JUNGLE, THERE
SPRANG A GREAT YELLOW TIGER" 102
[Illustration: _Map of_ INDIA _showing places mentioned in_ OUR LITTLE
HINDU COUSIN]
Our Little Hindu Cousin
CHAPTER I
CHOLA AT HOME
IT was barely light when little Chola rolled out of his blanket and gave
his cousin Mahala a shake as he lay stretched out beside him.
"Lazy one, listen! I hear little kids bleating below in the courtyard;
the new goats with the long hair must have come. Hasten! We will be the
first to see them!"
"Oh!" said Mahala, sitting up and rubbing his eyes, "thou art the plague
of my life. I was in the midst of a beautiful dream. I dreamed that I
was sitting beside a clear stream, with many dishes of sweetmeats
beside me, and I was just beginning to eat them when thou didst wake
me."
"Oh, thou greedy one! 'Tis always of sweets that thou art thinking,"
laughed Chola, as he and Mahala ran down the little winding stairway
which led from their room into the courtyard.
"Here they are, aren't they dear little creatures?" cried Chola, as two
little kids came frisking toward them, while the big white mother goat
followed them bleating piteously.
"What fine long white hair they have," exclaimed Mahala, trying to catch
one of the kids as it bounded past him.
"A lot of fuss over some goats," grumbled the old porter. "This fellow
with his goats came hammering before cock-crow at the gate," continued
the old man, who did not like having to come down from his little room
over the big gateway of the court at such an early hour to open the
gate.
"We are early risers in the hills," said the man who had brought the
goats. "It is you town folks who are lazy; but I promised your master
when he bought the goats in the market yesterday that he should have
them this morning."
"Oh, thou art from the hills," exclaimed the boys, looking curiously at
the little man in his strange dress.
"Yes, from the far northwest; and both I and my goats are homesick for
the tall mountains with the snow on their tops and the great pine-trees.
We like not these hot plains; but I must be off to the market," and,
twirling his stick, the little man left, clanging the heavy gate behind
him.
"Come, we will bathe before our fathers come down," said Mahala, after
they had played about with the kids awhile; "they always say we are in
their way." So saying the two little boys ran into the big garden
where, under a group of mango-trees, there was a big stone tank, or
pond, of water, with steps going down into it. Here Chola and Mahala
bathed every morning, for it was part of their religion and must be done
in a certain way. Indeed, some of our little Hindu cousins bathe before
each meal; and this is why, all over India, you will see the people
bathing in the rivers, in the public bathing-places, and in their own
gardens at all times of the day. Moreover, it is a very pleasant custom
for a hot country like India. As the boys were splashing merrily about
in the big tank, down dropped a big mango right on top of Chola's head.
"Where did that come from?" he cried, looking around; but there was no
one to be seen, so he went on splashing, when down came another mango,
and a sound was heard as if some one was chuckling to himself.
"Oh, it's thou, son of mischief!" cried Chola, as a little monkey
leaped down and capered around on the edge of the tank.
It was Jam, Chola's pet monkey. A cousin of the gardener had caught it
in his field one night when he was guarding his crops from the monkeys.
These mischievous animals would often dash out in droves from the
near-by forest at night and eat up the farmers' crop. He did not wish to
kill the little monkey; for, like many Hindus, he thought it a sacred
animal. So he had brought it to Chola for a pet.
The boys had great fun with Jam, though often he would play mischievous
pranks on them. To-day Jam thought this was just his chance to have fun.
Spying Chola's turban lying beside his clothes on the steps of the tank,
he pounced upon it and carried it up into the mango-tree.
"Oh, son of mischief, just wait until I catch thee! Bring back my
turban!" cried Chola, as he scrambled out of the water and climbed up
after Jam in a jiffy. It would never do for him to lose his turban, for
it would be very bad manners for him to be seen without this curious
head-covering. But as Chola went up the tree, Jam climbed down by an
out-stretching limb and swung himself to the ground, then away he went
tearing around the garden with Chola after him. Suddenly Jam tossed the
turban over the garden wall and flew to the top of the house, wild with
joy at having given Chola such a chase.
"Oh, Mahala, find it for me," said Chola, as he dropped breathless on
the grass.
Mahala ran out into the road and was back directly.
"Here is thy turban all unrolled," he laughed, throwing what seemed to
be many yards of white cloth at Chola.
"Just wait until I take a good bamboo stick to thee, wicked one," said
Chola, shaking his fist at Jam, now safe out of reach, and beginning to
wind the cloth around his head.
After their bath it did not take the boys long to dress, for they just
wound a long white garment around and around them, and slipped over this
a little jacket.
"Let us go to the cook-room now and see what the women are cooking; to
dream of sweets does not take away one's hunger," said Mahala, after the
boys had given their teeth a vigorous washing and rubbing with little
sticks, which was another one of their religious duties.
As the boys ran across the courtyard, scattering the goats, doves, and
fowls which were picking up seeds and grain, a voice called out: "Give
me food, oh, little princelings!"
"That must be a beggar, but I do not see him," said Mahala, looking
around.
"It is old green-coat," said Chola, laughing, and pointing to the other
side of the court where hung a hoop in which sat a beautiful parrot,
all brilliant green and blue and red. He could talk so well that a
stranger who came to the house would look everywhere to find the human
being who he thought had spoken to him. Once there came a thief who
thought he could steal the fine cock that stood under the veranda with
his head under his wing. Just as the thief caught the cock by the neck,
such a torrent of abuse came from above that he dropped the cock and
rolled in the dust, crying out: "Mercy! mercy! Oh, great one, thy slave
will never do this thing again!" Then as he heard a laugh, and no one
seized him, he fearfully lifted his head, and there sat the parrot
swinging on his hoop-perch. The thief slunk away very much ashamed that
he had been fooled by a bird.
"Ah, it smells good!" said Mahala, as they looked in at the door of the
cook-house which was near the great gateway.
There were no stoves or even fireplaces in the cook-room, but a series
of little holes or cupboards in the wall, in each of which was a pot or
pan resting on a few bricks or stones over a tiny fire. These little
ovens were near the floor, so that the cook could watch the pots and
pans while squatting. No Hindu stands up to any kind of work if he has a
chance to sit down.
Three or four women were squatting around watching the cooking, while
the boys' old grandmother bustled about scolding everybody within sight.
"Do not linger here," said the grandmother to the boys, "this is no
place for children."
"But, grandmother, Shriya is here," objected Mahala; "why can't we stay,
too."
"I am helping grandmother," said Mahala's little sister Shriya, who,
with a very important air, was sitting on the floor stirring something
in a big bowl. Shriya felt that she was a person of importance these
days, for was she not going to be married soon!
"Shriya is a useful little girl; besides, why are you not in the great
room where thy fathers make sacrifice to the Gods of the Household?"
answered the old lady, rather tartly. Like all good cooks she did not
like to be bothered while she was preparing her dishes.
"Come away, the grandmother is always cross when she is in the
cook-room," whispered Chola; so he and Mahala crossed the court again
and went into the house.
If you should come to visit Chola, you would think no one lived there
when you first entered the house. You would see no furniture of any
kind, no tables or chairs, for every one sits cross-legged on mats or
rugs spread on the floor, or squats on their heels. The walls are
whitewashed and bare, and there are no pictures or knick-knacks such as
you have at home.
The great-room was the sitting-room and dining-room for all the family
except the women, who lived in their own part of the house, called the
_zenana_.
At one end of the great-room was a shrine, in which was a curious old
idol of baked red clay. This was supposed to be the image of the family
god, and each morning offerings were made to it. This morning when the
boys came in, they found that the offerings of dishes of rice and
wreaths of flowers had already been placed around the old idol.
"Thou art late," called out Chola's father, who was sitting on the wide
veranda in front of the great-room, smoking his big pipe called a
_hookah_. It was very comfortable on the veranda, for all around it hung
mats of woven grass to keep off the burning sun and yet let in a cooling
breeze. You must know that India is a very hot country and that the
people make use of all sorts of things to make them comfortable. That
is why the houses all have broad verandas, where the folk can sit and
keep much cooler than within doors.
"It was all Jam's fault," said Chola, and he sat beside his father and
told of the trick the little monkey had played him, which amused his
father very much.
"You have spoilt Jam," he said. "Some day he will have to be sent back
to the forest if he does not behave himself better."
Meanwhile the steaming dishes of food were being brought from the
cook-house and placed on the big mat in the centre of the great-room;
this kept the grandmother and the boys' mothers busy, for they had to
serve three separate repasts, one for the men, one for the children, and
then, last of all, one for themselves. All this took a long time, for
there was Harajar Chumjeree, Chola's father, and his wife Lalla, and
Murree Rao, Chola's uncle, and his wife, and his son Mahala, and
Mahala's little sister Shriya, and the grandmother, and several cousins
and cousins' widows. They all lived in the big stone house, built around
a square courtyard, which stood in the middle of a large garden on the
outskirts of the beautiful city of Lucknow.
"Oh, grandmother, give us the fine white rice this morning with the
beautiful curry which thou hast made! None other tastes so good as
thine," said Chola, coaxingly, as he and his little cousins seated
themselves on the cleanly swept earthen floor of the great-room.
"Aha! art thou young rajahs that you should eat the beautiful rice of
the feast-days?" said the old lady, as she bustled back to the
cook-room; for the very fine rice is costly, and not usually given to
children every time they ask for it. Nevertheless, the old lady was
always pleased when they praised her curries, and, like other
grandmothers the world over, she quite spoiled her little grandsons.
So, presently, she came back with a big bowl of the fine white rice and
put a pile of it on each child's plate, taking care not to actually
touch the plates themselves, and then she made a hole, or basin, in the
centre of each pile and filled it with a steaming hot curry. This is one
of the dishes that the children were fondest of and there are many ways
of preparing it.
This curry of the grandmother's was made of several kinds of vegetables,
and was very hot and spicy indeed, but the children enjoyed it. After
this they had flat cakes of fried meal, and then a preserve of fruit.
"Here is milk from the new goats," said the grandmother, placing a big
bowl of goat's milk before each child; "but hasten, little ones, for I
and the mother and Shriya go with my son to the Bazaar to-day. There are
many things to buy for the wedding of my granddaughter," continued the
old lady, who was devoted to her grandchildren and really ruled the
house.
"Oh, take me, too," cried Chola. "There are no lessons at the school;
for thou knowest it is a holiday, and Mahala goes with his father to
visit a cousin. I will be all alone."