Rare Earth/Chapter 23

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
4075951Rare Earth — Chapter XXIIIFrank Owen

Chapter XXIII

Thus time wore on and many strange characters stopped for awhile to mull over the jewel collection and if possible to make a trade. And always they talked for awhile with Scobee. They imbued him with their uncommon views of life. All were different Some were influenced by old classics. They saw things from oblique aspects. These are some of the thoughts divulged as they lingered in the perfumed paths or walked beside the lily pond.

"Each man, to himself, is the centre of the universe. All things revolve around him. He is a mighty Emperor and his body a small kingdom over which he imagines he rules. But the body is motivated by forces without, not from the forces within. Though perhaps this is true of all kingdoms."

"The present is only a single second, a point like a degree of latitude. Man's life is mostly past. With a fragment of future lying before him to be glimpsed. But the present is so fleeting, it is of no measurable worth."

"In time to come every man will be called to account for all the good things which his eyes beheld and which he refused to enjoy. The blind man therefore is more certain of attaining Nirvana since he has less transgression for which to answer."

"God of Creation gave eternity to mountains, to diamonds, to stars, but to man he gave only the briefest span of existence. He is but a weary traveler slowly plodding over the Bridge of Life. He is a fool who stops to build a house upon it. He struggles endlessly, sacrifices everything for the existence which he believes will come after death. But he squanders and wastes that portion of earthly life which he knows is here."

"The credulous beggar by the roadside is far more to be envied than the renowned scholar because he believes everything that is told him and has utter faith. To be happy one need have no greater intellect than the cow."

But of all the outlandish wanderers Scobee listened to none interested him more than the eight sons of Cheng Foong who looked after the estate. They had been born to their tasks. Their futures had been carved for them. They were supremely happy, perfectly contented. Surely from them there was much of the real wisdom of life to be gleaned.

From Hoo, master of the jewels, he heard many wild tales and legends of fabulous stones.

"Rare stones are alive," he said. "They possess a certain elusive fragrance. They glow brightest when they are happiest. Sometimes they fade if they are handled by people with whom they are not in tune. Opals are unlucky for some people because their natures are so sensitive. There are few with whom they are in accord. Pearls are fragile. When they are unhappy, they die."

The three brothers who were gardeners had viewpoints almost identical to his. They considered the flowers and trees which they tended as personalities. In this respect they were like their master, Hung Long Tom, who once had written:

"A yellow chrysanthemum
Surpasses the glory of women,
Their beauty is forgotten
'Mid flower-garden profiles."

It was a tradition of the garden. Hung Lung Tom had been taught flower-lore by his father. Cheng Foong had taught the same belief to his sons. It was not odd under the circumstances that their viewpoints fused.

Of all the brothers, Zung, the cook, seemed to have gotten the most from life. Everyone of them was constantly seeking, searching, studying. But Zung was easy-going, an optimist, bland in manner. He never fretted about the weather. If the lentils burned his expression remained serene. He had experimented with the foods of all the world. His touch was magic. Scobee spent long hours in the kitchen with the jovial Zung. It was the one new friendship that he had formed in the Celestial city that meant anything to him. Zung knew the history of every spice he used in his cooking and recited many colorful tales about cinnamon, nutmegs, ginger. He told about Sumatra, Java, Ceylon, Formosa which he had visited in his study of the culinary art. He went about making a salad, a jelly or a pudding in the same manner that an artist goes about making a painting. He mixed his spices and flavors even as an artist mixes his colors. He had an apothecary's scale that measured down to grams. There were tones in flavor even as there were tones in color. To be worth while a dish must be pleasurable to see, pleasurable to smell, pleasurable to taste. In all the world Zung was the one man Scobee had met who was supremely satisfied with everything. He had no cares nor worries. He had no unfulfilled desires. All other considerations were subservient to food.

Scobee listened to his occasional songs, his bursts of enthusiasm, his sighs of satisfaction as he worked, and he said, "You seem to have solved the riddle of existence. I envy you. My life is in ruins. I am trying to build it anew. Tell me do you think there is any hope for me to attain happiness though I am blind?"

Zung paused in his work. He was preparing an egg-jelly. An egg-jelly is at its best when it has been kept for fourteen years. He spoke English fluently, perhaps that was one reason that Scobee was attracted to him. Of all the brothers, Phen and Kan were the only ones who knew scarcely any English. But then they were the youngest brothers and their education was not complete.

"Because a man has no raisins," murmured Zung, "does not necessarily mean that he cannot make a pudding. You are unhappy because your mind dwells too much on your blindness. Think of other things. Thousands, yea tens of thousands of men have there been who were blind and yet succeeded in various lines of endeavor. If you cease yearning for a thing, you at least grow to a point where you scarcely are aware of its absence. China is more than four thousand years old. For four thousand years her poor have suffered abjectly. Yet she has risen above suffering and pain. She has flourished as no other nation could flourish. Her sons have multiplied in the face of starvation, floods, plagues and oppression. Be like China. Rise above your condition. Forget your tribulations. Learn to be tranquil, to be patient Learn to enjoy your pudding whether it has raisins or not."