Chandra Shekhar/Part 3/Chapter 8
CHAPTER VIII
on the hills.
he moon did not appear that night to smile upon the world below. Dark clouds had covered the sky, the moon, the stars and all the lesser luminaries. The clouds which were full of rains, and were therefore tinged dark gray, had all gathered together into a thick unbroken mass, which enveloped the whole firmament—made it an all pervading endless expanse of impenetrable darkness, which covered the river, its sandy banks, and the land above, with the chain of hills on it. In that darkness Shaibalini was alone in the valley of the hills.
In the latter part of the night the little boat, in which Pratap and Shaibalini made their escape, was taken to the shore, keeping the pursuing enemies at a distance. There is no dearth of retired places by the side of large rivers, and the little boat was fastened to one of such secluded nooks. There Shaibalini left the boat, unnoticed. This time, she did not run away for any evil purpose. It is that fear of life which drives away the animals of a burning forest, prompted her to desert Pratap's company. It was only for fear of life that Shaibalini resolved to forsake society with all its joys and pleasures. She had no longer any claim to happiness, love and friendship, or even to her most beloved Pratap. She had no hope for all these things—even the very desire of obtaining them in life was to be abandoned. Who can give up the desire and yet be with the object of craving? What thirsty traveller, in a bleak desert, can pass on, with parched lips, without drinking from the pure transparent water, he comes across in his way? Rapacious greed and inordinate desire, in respect of their influences on human mind, can be rightly compared with the dreadful and all-devouring sea-devil, as described by Victor-Hugo. This horrible animal lives in water which equals even crystals in transparency, and where stones of different colours and varieties sparkle and glow with a lustre all their own; innumerable priceless pearls and corals also illumine the beautiful habitation of this dreadful monster. It is dreadful because it sucks human blood. The unfortunate man who goes near it, being fascinated by the beautiful sight of its home, is caught hold of by this devil, who stretches out its awful hundred hands one by one, to grasp its victim in its clutches, so tight as to render all rescue impossible. The monster, thus securing the prey in its grip, begins to suck its life-blood.
Shaibalini, finding herself unfit for the struggle, took to heels. She had this fear in her mind that Pratap would try to find her out as soon as he would come to know that she had escaped. For this reason, she had gone as far as she could, without halting anywhere in the way. She could see before her, at no great distance, that chain of hills which can appropriately be called the belt of Hindusthan. She did not mount the hills during the day, lest any one of the searching party would discover her. She hid herself somewhere in the forest, and passed the whole day without any food. Slowly and gradually the twilight of the evening faded away, and darkness covered the face of the earth. The moon was to appear that night long after the sunset. Shaibalini began to ascend the hills in darkness. She got many wounds in her feet, as she made her way through the thorny plants and stones, lying scattered on the hills; it was not possible to find out a smooth track in the midst of the rank growth of little shrubs and creepers. Her hands too were bleeding at the thorns and pricks of those wild plants, the sharp pointed ends of broken boughs and the stump of trees. Now commenced Shaibalini's penance. All these, however, did not cause pain and suffering to Shaibalini. She had made up her mind to undergo that penance. Willingly and of her own accord, she had deserted the blissful society, and entered into that dreadful wilderness of the hills, full of wild and ferocious beasts. So long she lay immersed in the dark and endless abyss of sin, and would not the burden of her crime be lightened if she would now undergo the penance by calmly bearing the inflictions of pain and suffering? So Shaibalini, sick with thirst and hunger—her body bleeding all over—began to ascend the hills without any rest. No beaten track could be seen—the falling shade of night had then covered everything with darkness. But then, even during the day it was not possible to trace out a way of easy access in the midst of the overgrowing shrubs and innumerable stones of those hills. Shaibalini, therefore, 
could ascend but very little, and even that with great difficulty.
Just then, dark clouds were seen to gather overhead, and the sky soon became overcast with them. It seemed, as if, the vault of heaven had been enveloped by a black imperforated screen. Darkness of endless volume, growing thicker and thicker every moment, descended from above to the world below, and gradually covered the hills, the road beneath, the distant river, and, in fact, all the surrounding objects of nature. The whole universe, it seemed,was nothing but an endless mass of impenetrable darkness—to Shaibalini it appeared that in this world there was nothing but stones, thorns and darkness. She felt that it was useless to try to ascend higher up, and so she took her seat in a thorny bush, in utter despair. Just then, quick flashes and streaks of lightning were seen to run their serpentine course from one end of the firmament to the other. With them commenced the deafening claps of thunder. It was a horrible sight! Shaibalini could understand that all these were the signs of a severe summer storm which would soon burst forth in that mountainous region. What harm was there in that? Many a tree and bough, many a leaf and flower, would be torn away from the hills and destroyed—would it not end so happily with Shaibalini?
All on a sudden, Shaibalini perceived the touch of some cold substance on her body. It was a drop of rain. Another drop—still another—then drop after drop began to fall in quicker succession till at last they fell in copious showers. Then followed a horrible noise that filled the air all around. It was a confused mixture of sounds which emanated from the pattering rains, the howling gust and the roaring thunder clouds; with it were heard, at times, the clamour of falling boughs, the wails of frightened beasts, the rumbling noise of shifted stones, rolling down the slopes of the hills, and the bustle and commotion of the tumultous waves of the distant Bhagirathi, wrestling with one another with mad enthusiasm. Shaibalini was seated on the hill, upon a stone, with her head bent down—the cold drops of rain were being incesssantly showered upon it. The boughs of small trees and the little branches of shrubs and creepers, which were waving to and fro in the strong gale, began to strike her body repeatedly, in their alternate rise and fall. The torrents of rain water, from the mountain top, was rushing down the slope of the hill in streams, covering Shaibalini up to her thigh.
Nature, Thou all-powerful mistress of the dead elements, before Thee humanity must fall prostrate to pay its tribute of homage and admiration! Thou hast no mercy, no love, no affection in Thee—Thou shrinkest not to destroy life—Thou art the parent of endless misery, yet the world is indebted to Thee for what it is; for Thou art at the same time the fountain head of all joy and happiness, the dispenser of all blessings, the distributer of weal and the fulfiller of all hopes and aspirations—Thou art perfect! Before Thee, therefore, the world must bow down in veneration. Oh, Thou dreadful, or what Thou art we know not! only last night Thou hadst appeared before the world with a glorious moon shining on Thy forehead and a superb crown of the sparkling stars, adorning Thy head, and moved the universe with thy all-captivating smile; Thou hadst knitted a beautiful wreath with the waving ripples of the flowing Bhagirathi, and hadst suspended against each of them a moon; again, Thou hadst given the brilliancy of diamonds to each particle of sand, on the river shore, and made the youthful pair happy, by floating them in the blue bosom of the Ganges! It seemed Thou wert very kind and loving; for how sweetly Thou hadst fondled and caressed them. But what is this today? Thou art untrustworthy and all-destroying. We do not know why Thou makest animals Thy sport—Thou hast no wisdom, no knowledge, no life, no sensation, yet Thou art omnipresent, omnipotent and all destroying—Thou art the magic-illusion of God, the brightest manifestation of His glory—Thou art really unconquerable. Humanity must bow down before Thy Majesty.
The rain ceased after a long time, but the storm was still raging; only its fury had abated a little. The all-encompassing darkness had now become denser than before. Shaibalini could feel that it was not possible for her to ascend or descend the slippery hills in that ungodly hour, and so she remained seated there, shivering with cold. Her once dear home at Bedagram, now came into her recollections. She thought within herself, "I would die happier if I could once again see that abode of peace and happiness. But not to speak of that, I would not, perhaps, live to see even the light of the morning. Death, whose aid I had so long vainly invoked, is upon me to-day."
Just then, on that desolate hill, within that inaccessible thicket, in that unearthly period of impenetrable darkness, some one touched Shaibalini's body. At first she thought it was some beast of the forest; so she moved away a little. But again she perceived that touch on her body, and this time she could distinctly feel that it was exactly the touch of a human hand—nothing, however, could be seen in the darkness. Shaibalini then in a fear-stricken voice asked, "Who are you? Are you an angel or a man?" Shaibalini had no reason to be afraid of man, but she could not but dread the Gods; for they are the dispensers of justice.
Nobody gave any answer to Shaibalini's query. But she could feel, be it a man or an angel, she was being grasped by somebody. She found that a hand was placed on her back and another clasped her legs, and that she was being lifted up. At this, she burst forth into a scream. After a while, she could perceive that she was being carried somewhere, and that her carrier was ascending the hills very carefully with her. Shaibalini thought that whoever he may be, he was certainly not Lawrence Foster.
