Stories of Bengalee Life/The Forest Child/Chapter 1
THE FOREST CHILD
CHAPTER I
WELL-EQUIPPED with warm clothing, Kumud Nath, his wife and two-year-old boy, Khoka, set out for Simla on the 1st of December. The day for the journey had been fixed by the most exact astrological reckoning. And when fortune proved adverse, no one could say at what point the calculations went wrong. To this husband and wife the journey proved to be the heaviest misfortune that had ever befallen them.
Having been for some years subject to malarial fever, Kumud Nath had become reduced to skin and bone. The doctor advised him to spend some months in a cold climate. The name of Kumud Babu's wife was Giribala. She was born in the Simla hills, and had lived there some years, as her father, the late Kali Kanta Mitra, had worked there. She now urged her husband to go to Simla.
Kumud Nath exclaimed—"Ruination! Go to Simla in the cold?"
Giribala answered,—"There is not so much to fear as you think. The cold at Simla is delightful. You have never seen a snowstorm; it is a wonderful thing."
Kumud Babu consulted the doctor. He said—"It won't hurt you, but the contrary. But you must be very careful of yourself."
The journey was made strictly according to the doctor's instructions. They spent three weeks in Simla in great enjoyment. Kumud Nath had an intimate friend in the Simla Collectorate Office, named Jadu Babu. He rented a handsome two-storied house. At first Kumud Nath could not walk very much. He would lie on a couch studying the Simla Guide Book, planning excursions, or sit at a window watching the string of loaded camels passing on the highway, or the different vehicles—the ekka, the tonga, or the jhampan. The novelty of it all amused him. The faces of the hill women pleased him beyond measure. Close at hand fields of grain cut like steps in the side of the precipice; the Lepcha huts, the Lepcha dress, their form and gait interested him beyond expression. Again, a fresh wonder. On the 20th of December there was a good fall of snow. Kumud Babu was as delighted with it as his litte boy. Giribala rejoiced in her husband's pleasure.
To-day is the 25th—the Great Day! At eight in the morning, Jadu Babu, putting on his ulster and gaiters, took his tall snow staff and presented himself at Kumud Babu's house in Boileauganj. Kumud Babu had not entirely given up his bed.
The two friends sat drinking very hot tea. Jadu Babu asked Kumud if he took much walking exercise.
"Not so very much, but I do walk. Yesterday I went round Jakko."
"When you are stronger I will walk with you. You could not go my pace now, you would lose your breath."
Having finished his first cup of tea, Jadu Babu took a second. Up to this lamps had been burning in the room, but as it had now become light outside, the servant put them out. Jadu Babu finished his second cup, and then prepared to depart.
"Sit down, I beg; what is your hurry?"
"There is some business"
"Some Yoga ceremonies?"
It was well known in Simla that Jadu Babu secretly practised the Yoga ceremonial. With a confused laugh, he replied—"Oh, that is all over."
"Then?"
"To-day I have other business. After the early meal I go to visit the Tara Devi. The ladies have been urging me to do so."
"To go and see Tara Devi? Why did you not tell me? Ever since we came my wife has been anxious to go one day. How far is it?"
"Six or seven miles."
"Can one go in a rickshaw?"
"Yes; you can go to the foot of the hill. A rickshaw can't climb to the top, of course."
"When must one start to be able to return by evening?"
"If you start at noon it will do."
The whole thing was arranged. Jadu Babu said it would be better to start earlier—say eleven o'clock. Happily, the sky was clear. Five days had passed since the last fall of snow. It had now melted and dried up. The road would probably be clear also. Jadu Babu said that at eleven his own rickshaw and three others for Kumud's party, including one for the child's servant, would be waiting. Then, taking his snow staff, he went off smiling, his feet making a sluthering sound in the slush. Kumud Babu thought—"He goes like a demon; how can one go like that?"
Presently Giribala came in. She showed no joy on hearing they were to visit Tara Devi. She said—"Why should we go in a crowd? You and I were going together; I shan't have a chance of talking to you."
"It does not do to go about alone in a strange country. They know all about it, and can explain everything to us."
Giribala answered gently—"I know about everything in this place."
It was then nearly ten o'clock. They got through with the bathing and breakfast. They gave the boy his milk, touched up his eyelids with black, and dressed him.
At half-past eleven Jadu Babu and his people arrived at the gate. At the moment of starting Giribala's left eyelid did not quiver, there was no sign of coming misfortune to disturb her, nevertheless she remained depressed. Now, when this pilgrimage to Tara Devi recurs to her mind, her whole frame shudders.
When they reached the boundary of Simla, Kumud Babu alighted from his rickshaw and walked with Jadu Babu. This excited in the ladies a desire to walk. They too alighted and went some little way, then became fatigued and returned to their rickshaws. Upon which Jadu Babu reflected, laughingly—"Women have no strength; they like to pretend to do everything. Is it likely they can ascend hills?"
Giribala chatted joyously with her companions; there was no longer any sadness in her thoughts. At two o'clock the rickshaws had reached Tara Devi. It is a mountain peak about two hundred feet high from its base. Leaving the rickshaws, they ascended the peak.
Within the temple there was the stone image of Tara Devi painted in vermilion. It was a frightful sight to see. The ladies began their worship. The two gentlemen went about observing the natural beauties of the place: on one side a deep precipice, on the other lofty forests. A solitary place, dear to thoughtful minds. Not far off rose the snowy peaks of the Himalayas. After noon the atmosphere glittered with the intensity of the sun's rays. The Temple Priest began to chat with them. His home was in Hushiarpur. What sort of an income did he get? Not much of that. Hillmen scarcely paid any money; some brought wheat, some potatoes, some honey. Rich people—Chiefs, Rajas, Maharajas—when they came, bestowed lavishly. There was great difficulty about water. It had to be brought in ghaillas from the well below—when the spring therein was in flow.
At this moment the cry of a child was heard not far off from beneath a withered tree. A forest child had been lying sleeping in the sun, it now was sitting up crying. Glancing at the child, the priest said—"Babuji, two days ago I fell into great trouble about that child." The two friends went slowly towards the tree. The child had on a leather coat and a curious skin cap with the hair on; some bones strung together as a necklace were round his throat. He was about two years old. The priest said he had picked up the child two days before. Some hill woman had lost him, and had not yet come in search of him.
Kumud Nath said to Jadu Babu—"Come along, we will take him with us."
"Are you mad? What can you do with him?"
"Bring him up."
"And if his mother comes in search of him?"
"I will give my address to the priest. If the child's mother comes I will give him up to her."
With these words Kumud Nath called his wife aside. At first she did not consent to the proposal. Kumud Nath urged the helpless condition of the child. He said—"Among these uncivilised races they don't concern themselves about the loss of a child; if they did, the mother would have come in search of it. In a day or two the child, if he stays here, will die."
These words stirred the mother's heart in Giribala. She gave it some milk from that brought for her own boy. It was now time to return. It was near four o'clock, and at five the sun would set. Khoka took possession of his father's lap. The forest child was entrusted to the servant. By seven o'clock the party returned to Simla.