We now thought we could live together in Volksrust jail for these three months. But the Government could not afford to allow it.
Meanwhile, we passed a few happy days in Volksrust jail, where new prisoners came every day and brought us news of what was happening outside. Among these Satyagrahi prisoners there was one old man named Harbatsinh who was about 75 years of age. Harbatsinh was not working on the mines. He had completed his indenture years ago and he was not therefore a striker. The Indians grew far more enthusiastic after my arrest, and many of them got arrested by crossing over from Natal into the Transvaal. Harbatsinh was one of these enthusiasts.
‘Why are you in jail?’ I asked Harbatsinh. ‘I have not invited old men like yourself to court jail.’
‘How could I help it,’ replied Harbatsinh, ‘when you, your wife and even your boys went to jail for our sake?’
‘But you will not be able to endure the hardships of jail life. I would advise you to leave jail. Shall I arrange for your release?’
‘No, please. I will never leave jail. I must die one of these days, and how happy should I be to die in jail!’
It was not for me to try to shake such determination which would not have been shaken even if I had tried. My head bent in reverence before this illiterate sage. Harbatsinh had his wish and he died in Durban jail on January 5, 1914. His body was with great honour cremated according to Hindu rites in the presence of hundreds of Indians. There was not one but there were many like Harbatsinh in the Satyagraha struggle. But the great good fortune of dying in jail was reserved for him alone and hence he becomes entitled to honourable mention in the history of Satyagraha in South Africa.
Government would not like that men should thus be attracted to jail, nor did they appreciate the fact that prisoners upon their release should carry my messages outside. They therefore decided to separate Kallenbach,
