Manners and customs -- Fiction; Short stories, English
"That was the least of the wonder, for no man dies before his
time. I have seen Sydney, I have seen London, and twenty great
ports, but "- Peroo looked at the damp, discoloured shrine under
the peepul -" never man has seen that we saw here."
What?"
"Has the Sahib forgotten; or do we black men only see the Gods?"
"There was a fever upon me." Findlayson was still looking
uneasily across the water. "It seemed that the island was full
of beasts and men talking, but I do not remember. A boat could
live in this water now, I think."
"Oho! Then it is true. 'When Brahm ceases to dream, the Gods
die.' Now I know, indeed, what he meant. Once, too, the guru
said as much to me; but then I did not understand. Now I am
wise.
"What?" said Findlayson, over his shoulder.
Peroo went on as if he were talking to himself "Six - seven - ten
monsoons since, I was watch on the fo'c'sle of the Rewah - the
Kumpani's big boat - and there was a big tufan; green and black
water beating, and I held fast to the life-lines, choking under
the waters. Then I thought of the Gods - of Those whom we saw
to-night "- he stared curiously at Findlayson's back, but the
white man was looking across the flood. "Yes, I say of Those
whom we saw this night past, and I called upon Them to protect
me. And while I prayed, still keeping my lookout, a big wave
came and threw me forward upon the ring of the great black
bow-anchor, and the Rewah rose high and high, leaning towards
the left-hand side, and the water drew away from beneath her
nose, and I lay upon my belly, holding the ring, and looking
down into those great deeps. Then I thought, even in the face of
death: If I lose hold I die, and for me neither the Rewah nor my
place by the galley where the rice is cooked, nor Bombay, nor
Calcutta,nor even London, will be any more for me. 'How shall I
be sure,' I said, 'that the Gods to whom I pray will abide at
all?' This I thought, and the Rewah dropped her nose as a hammer
falls, and all the sea came in and slid me backwards along the
fo'c'sle and over the break of the fo'c'sle, and I very badly
bruised my shin against the donkey-engine: but I did not die,
and I have seen the Gods. They are good for live men, but for
the dead . . . . They have spoken Themselves. Therefore, when I
come to the village I will beat the guru for talking riddles
which are no riddles. When Brahm ceases to dream the Gods go."
"Look up-stream. The light blinds. Is there smoke yonder?"
Peroo shaded his eyes with his hands. "He is a wise man and
quick. Hitchcock Sahib would not trust a rowboat. He has
borrowed the Rao Sahib's steam-launch, and comes to look for us.
I have always said that there should have been a steam-launch on
the bridge works for us.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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