Legendary & romantic tales of Indian historyCaunter, Hobart
History
Legendary & romantic tales of Indian history
Caunter, Hobart
India -- History -- Fiction
“Alas! my boy,” said the old man, “there is little doubt but your
suspicions respecting the end of that poor girl are correct. The
strictness of the Guebres in maintaining the purity of their women is
so severe that even the slightest suspicion subjects them to certain
death. The power of inflicting summary punishment upon offenders of
this kind is in the hands of the parent, and pardon seldom passes from
the domestic tribunal for those sins to which death is awarded. The
poisoned bowl has sent that innocent victim to the land of shadows,
where our spirits shall everlastingly wail or rejoice.”
The son concurred in the probability of this having been the fact,
as he recollected the swollen and blackened state of the corpse. The
conversation becoming painful, he relapsed into his former mood of
silent abstraction.
It happened that among the property which the merchant had put on
board the vessel was a large royal tiger, so fierce that it was placed
in an iron cage, secured at the stern. The merchant had purchased it
some short time before he quitted Surat, intending to present it to
the King of Ghizny, who, as he had ascertained, possessed an extensive
menagerie, and was particularly fond of collecting wild beasts. The
tiger had been caught in a trap, and never, therefore, having been
tamed, was excessively ferocious.
They had been but a few days on their voyage, when the weather began to
assume a threatening aspect. The sun was overcast, and the heat became
almost suffocating. Not a breath of air stirred. The water had a gentle
swell, and was as smooth as a mirror; but there was a dull greenish
tint on the surface, which looked like a skin in the human body
tinged with the morbid hue of disease. Not a ripple agitated the lazy
mass, which undulated with a slow sluggish movement as if its natural
principle of motion were impeded. The vessel laboured through the
glassy but ponderous waters with a lumbering uneasy roll, that rendered
it difficult to maintain an easy position either within or without the
cabin.
The haze thickened and lay upon the sea, which it shrouded with a thin
vapoury veil, through which, when the clouds rolled from before his
orb, the sun occasionally glared with a fiery and portentous glow. The
Hindoo sailors were silent and looked grave, seating themselves by the
ribs of the vessel and looking into the sky with a foreboding gloom
that did not much tend to cheer the heart of the venerable merchant.
They appeared, however, to take no precautions against the approach of
a hurricane.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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