"
There followed the sharp, quick tinkle of a little bell--the Indian
manner of calling upon the Lord's attention.
We both knew better than to hustle the institutions of the East; so we
waited with what patience we had, listening to the intermittent
tinkling of the little bell. At the end of fully fifteen minutes the
devotee appeared. He proved to be a mild, deprecating little man, very
eager to help, but without resources. He was a Hindu, and lived mainly
on tea and rice. The rice was all out, but he expected more on the night
train. There was no trading store here. He was the only inhabitant.
After a few more answers he disappeared, to return carrying two pieces
of letter paper on which were tea and a little coarse native sugar.
These, with a half-dozen very small potatoes, were all he had to offer.
It did not look very encouraging. We had absolutely nothing in which to
boil water. Of course we could not borrow of our host; caste stood in
the way there. If we were even to touch one of his utensils, that
utensil was for him defiled for ever. Nevertheless, as we had eaten
nothing since four o'clock that morning, and had put a hard day's work
behind us, we made an effort. After a short search we captured a savage
possessed of a surfuria, or native cooking pot. Memba Sasa scrubbed this
with sand. First we made tea in it, and drank turn about, from its wide
edge. This warmed us up somewhat.
Pages:
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202