The Flower of Forgiveness. Flora Annie Webster Steel
all, the great doctor sahib should be seeking forgiveness.
"'I seek the flower only, Pious One,' replied Taylor, with a shrug of the shoulders.
"'Perhaps 'tis the same thing,' replied Victor Emanuel with another salaam.
"The square tank was edged by humanity in the white and saffron robes of pilgrimage. Brimming up to the stone step, worn smooth by generations of sinners, the waters of the spring lapped lazily, stirred by the myriads of small fish which, in their eagerness for the coming feast, flashed hither and thither like meteors, to gather in radiating stars round the least speck on the surface; sometimes in their haste rising in scaly mounds above the water. The blare of a conch and a clanging of discordant bells made all eyes turn to the platform in front of the temple, where the attendant Brahmans stood with high-heaped baskets of grain awaiting the sacrificial words about to be spoken by an old man, who, with one foot on the bank, spread his arms skywards--an old man of insignificant height, but with an indescribable dignity, on which I remarked to my companion.
"'It is indescribable,' he assented, 'because it is compounded of factors not only wide as the poles asunder from you and me, but also from each other. Pride of twice-born trebly-distilled ancestry bringing a conviction of inherited worthiness; pride in hardly-acquired devotion giving birth to a sense of personal frailty. That is the Brahman whom we lump into a third-class railway carriage with the ruck of humanity, and then wonder--hush! he is going to begin.'
"'Thou art Light! Thou art Immortal Life!' The voice, with a tremor of emotion in it, pierced the stillness for a second before it was shattered by a hoarse, strident cry--'Silence!'
"Taylor leaned forward, suddenly interested. 'You're in luck,' he whispered, 'I believe there is going to be a row of some sort.'
"Once more the cry rose harsher than before: 'Silence, Sukya! Thou art impure.'
"A stir in the crowd, and a visible straightening of the old man's back were the only results.
"'Thou art the Holiest Sacrifice! We adore Thee, adorable Sun!'
"'Silence!'
"This time the interruption took shape in a jogi, who, forcing his way through the dense ranks, emerged on the platform to stand pointing with denunciatory finger at the old Brahman. Naked, save for the cable of grass round his loins and the smearing of white ashes, with hair lime-bleached and plaited with hemp into a sort of chignon, no more ghastly figure could be conceived. The crowd, however, hailed him with evident respect, while a murmur of 'Gopi! 'tis Gopi the bikshu (religious beggar)' passed from mouth to mouth. This reception seemed to rouse the old man's wrath, for after one scornful glance at the new-comer he was about to continue his invocation to the sun, when the jogi, striding forward, flourished his mendicant's staff so close to the other's face that he perforce fell back.
"Before the crowd had grasped the deadly earnest of the scene, a lad of about sixteen, clad in the black antelope skin which marks a religious disciple, had leaped, quivering with rage, between the old man and his assailant.
"'By George,' muttered Taylor, 'what a splendid young fellow!'
"He was indeed. Extraordinarily fair, even for the fairest race in India, he might have served as model for a young Perseus as he stood there, the antelope skin falling from his right shoulder, leaving the sacred cord of the Brahman visible on his left, while his smooth, round limbs showed in all their naked, vigorous young beauty.
"'Stand off, Amra! who bade thee interfere?' cried the old man sternly. The bond between them was manifest by the alacrity with which the boy obeyed the command; for to the spiritual master implicit obedience is due. At the same moment the chief priest of the shrine, alarmed at an incident which might interfere with the expected almsgiving, hurried forward. Luckily the crowd kept the silence which characterises gregarious humanity in the East, so we could follow what was said.
"'Wilt remove yonder drunken fanatic, or shall the worship of the Shining Ones be profaned?' asked the old Brahman savagely; and at a sign from their chief the attendants stepped forward.
"But the jogi facing the crowd, appealed direct to that fear of defilement which haunts the Hindu's heart. 'Impure! Impure! Touch him not! Hear him not! Look not on him!' The vast concourse swayed and stirred, as with a confident air the jogi turned to the chief priest. 'These twelve years agone, O! mohunt-ji'[1] thou knowest Gopi--Gopi the bikshu! since for twelve years I have been led hither by the Spirit, seeking speech, and finding silence! But now speech is given by the same Spirit. That man, Sukya, anchorite of Setanagar, is unclean, false to his race, to his vows, to the Shining Ones! I, Gopi the bikshu, will prove it.'
"Once again a murmur rose like the wind presaging a storm, and as the crowd surged closer to the temple, a young girl in the saffron drapery of a pilgrim took advantage of the movement to make her way to the platform, with the evident intention of pressing to the old man's side; but she was arrested by the young Perseus, who, with firm hands clasping hers, whispered something in her ear. She smiled up at him; and so they stood, hand in hand, eager but confident, as the Brahman's voice, clear with certainty, dominated the confusion.
"'Ay! Prove it! Prove that I, Sukya, taught of the great Swami, twice-born Brahman, faithful disciple, blameless householder and pious anchorite in due turn, as the faith demands, have failed once in the law without repentance and atonement! Lo! I swear by the Shining Ones that I stand before ye to-day, body and soul, holy to the uttermost.'
"'God gie us a gude conceit o' oursels,' muttered Taylor.
"The remark jarred on me painfully, for the spiritual exaltation in the man's face had nothing personal in it; nothing more selfish than the rapt confidence which glorified the young disciple's whole bearing, as he gazed on his master with the sort of blind adoration one sees in the eyes of a dog.
"'Think! I am Sukya!' went on the high-pitched voice. 'Would Sukya come between his brethren and the Shining Ones? I, chosen for the oblation by reason of virtue and learning; I, Sukya, journeying to holy Amar-nâth not for my own sake,--for I fear no judgment,--but for the sake of the disciple, yonder boy Amra, betrothed to the daughter of my daughter, and vowed to the pilgrimage from birth.'
"A yell of crackling laughter came from the jogi as he leapt to the bastion of the bathing-place, and so, raised within sight of all, struck an attitude of indignant appeal. 'When was an outcast vowed to pilgrimage? And by my jogi's vow I swear the boy Amra, disciple of Sukya, to be an outcast. A Sudra of Sudras! seeing that his mother, being twice-born, defiled her race with scum from beyond the seas.'
"'By George!' muttered Taylor again, 'this is getting lively--for the scum.'
"'Perhaps the Presence is becoming tired of this vulgar scene,' suggested an obsequious chuprassi, who had been devoted to our service by order of the Cashmere officials; but the Presences were deeply interested. For all that, I should not care to witness such a sight again. The attention of the crowd, centred a moment before on the jogi, was turned now on the boy, who stood absolutely alone; the girl, moved by the unreasoning habit of race, having dropped his hand at the first word and crept to her grandfather's side. I can see that young face still, awful in its terror, piteous in its entreaty.
"'Thou liest, Gopi!' cried the Brahman, gasping with passion; and at the words a gleam of hope crept to those hunted eyes. 'Prove it, I say; for I appeal to the Shining Ones whom I have served.'
"'I accept the challenge,' yelled the jogi with frantic gestures, while a perfect roar of assent, cries of devotion, and prayers for guidance, rose from the crowd.
"Taylor looked round at me quickly. 'You are in luck. There is going to be a miracle. I saw that Gopi at Hurdwâr once; he is a rare hand at them.' He must have understood my resentment at being thus recalled to the nineteenth century, for he added half to himself, ''Tis tragedy for all that,--to the boy.'
"An appeal for silence enabled us to hear that both parties had agreed to refer the question of birth to the sacred cord, with which every male of the three twice-born castes is invested. If the strands were of the