I felt as I did when that fearful white giant was in the room on that dreadful night, that I did not dare to breathe hard for fear some one might discover us. Toward evening two men came and took away the charpoy and all on it. I tried to get the old woman to tell me what had happened, but her only reply was that mama, the dear mama, had gone and we should never see her again. Our little hearts were breaking. We wept together until we fell asleep at night. The morning came but no mama for us to see. How many times in my life since those dark sorrowful days have I thought to myself, Alas! What numbers of women’s hearts have been broken by these faithless Christian Europeans! These women were only natives to be sure, but they had hearts as warm for those whose soft words of love they had heard, and whose promises they believed, as any of their more favored white sisters. What is the use of talking of God, of justice, of virtue, of right and wrong, if such deception, cruelties and wrongs are to remain unnoticed and unpunished? Is there to be no recompense to those so cruelly injured? Are there no memories to follow the perpetrators of such infamous deeds? If not, then this world is one of chance and confusion. Might makes right, vice is as good as virtue and the sooner we get through the farce of living the better, to die and perish forever. Soon the few remaining rupees were gone, then the trinkets, the few articles of clothing, and lastly, the box itself, all, everything had gone to purchase the little food we needed. There was nothing left with which to supply our wants or to pay our rent. One day the old woman took the little sister and me down into a little shelter, made by an old grass roof leaning against the back wall of the court. This was to be our home. She had gathered some coarse grass on which we were to sleep. Our only furniture consisted of two old earthen pots in which to cook our food if we could get any. All of our beautiful brass dishes that we once looked upon as shining jewels, when, after our meals they were scoured and placed in the sun to dry, had gone, following the trinkets and the box. My best suit consisted of a few inches of cloth and a string around my waist. My little sister had a very short skirt much fringed by long use around the bottom. For awhile the people in the court gave us food, some rice, others vegetables, and others a pepper pod and a few grains of salt. The little sister and I gathered old grass, and dried manure with which our food was cooked. So we were happy. It takes so little when we are willing to be happy that I sometimes question whether civilization is a benefactor, for it increases our wants and adds to our labor in supplying them.