We were put into this cart and driven away so fast that I was really scared and held my breath. It seemed like flying as the birds do, and I thought, “what wonderful beings these white giants are.” Soon we were at the gate of a large building and another white being came out, very slender and as thin as I felt I was, before I had eaten of that good old faqir’s food. What strange comparisons we often make, but the best of us only reason from what we know, and how little did I know? He was so thin that I did not feel very much afraid of him, as I thought he had not eaten many boys, or at most, not very many. Something was said that I did not understand, as the noise from the mouths of the two sahibs was so strange. I was lifted out of the cart and it was quickly driven away. I screamed, “My sister! my sister!” and started to run after it but was caught by a native and carried into a room where there were several other boys. They could shut me up in a room but they could not prevent me crying out for my sister, as I felt that I had been given to this sahib, and she to the other, and that she might possibly be eaten that day for dinner. The sahib came in and had a long talk with me. He said that this was a school, an orphanage, where they kept boys who had no father or mother. They fed them, gave them clothes and taught them to read. This was news to me, but what about my sister? He replied that she would be sent to another school for girls in another city and be well cared for. This pacified me somewhat, as it was better than to be eaten, yet I would have rather been out on the road alone with the little sister than anywhere else. She was all I had, all, and I had lost her! My grief was intense. I dreamed of her at night, I thought of her every hour of the day. What else could I do but dream and think?