# Rhamon/Chapter 10

Several days later Rhamon was seated on the deck of the Monarch whittling out a top from a piece of hard root. Beside him sat the American Sahib, from whom he had borrowed the knife he was using. It was a beautiful knife—shiny and sharp—and the chips flew fast.
"Tell me more of the big cities, please, Sahib," said Rhamon.
The Sahib smiled and told him again of the ​fine houses, the wide streets and the big steam trains that tore across the country and came puffing into the city stations.
Rhamon had heard many tales of the big cities on the other side of the mountains, but he had never seen them. The crumbling old city of Srinagar was the only one he knew. He had never been out of his valley that lay far up in the heart of the great mountains. In the winter the narrow mountain roads were often closed with snow. Then even the mail trucks could not come over them and the people in the high valley were shut off from news of the world below.
Rhamon's heart ached with the longing to be a man. He wanted to go down the mountains, to see the great cities and the steam trains.
So busy was Rhamon with his top and the stories which filled his ears, he did not notice that the sun was slowly sinking. As the fiery ball slipped behind the mountains it touched the plumy clouds with gold, and streaked the soft blue sky with rosy banners.
​He bade the Sahib good-by and returning the knife, jumped into the shikara which lay alongside. This was the time of day Rhamon liked best. As he paddled the short distance to his own little houseboat, he watched the reflections in the river. One sun up in the sky, and one down there in the water!
Subro was resting on the tiny deck, smoking his hubble-bubble pipe. From the window drifted the spicy smell of curry. On the river bank close by, Rhamon's mother was pounding the rice. Thud—thud—thud! came the heavy sound of the pole as she let it fall. Rhamon could hear, the jingle-jingle of her many silver bracelets.
"Come here, Rhamon," said Subro, as the shikara drew alongside. "I have been waiting to speak with you."
Rhamon looked up quickly into his father's face. Was he to be scolded for staying away so long? But no, the brown eyes were smiling and kind. Rhamon tied the shikara and climbed up onto the deck.
​"My son," began Subro, "you have long wanted to go down the mountains to the big city. And now I am going to send you. My brother lives in Lahore and owns a shop there. He has asked me to send him an old perfume jar. I have at last found the kind he wishes. You were with me when I bought it from Subhanna. Now you shall take it to your uncle. You are old enough to be trusted as a man."
Rhamon's heart thumped with joy and he felt that already he must have grown many inches—a man indeed!
"But that is not all," continued Subro, looking very tenderly at the happy face of his son. "On the day of the procession the good Rajah saw you and noticed your misfortune. And now he wishes to send you to the big city of Lahore. He believes the great doctor there will be able to make your foot right again, so that you can run like other boys."
"The Rajah!" exclaimed Rhamon breathlessly. He did not even hear what his father had
​told him about his foot. The Rajah, interested in him! But why?
Rhamon did not know of all that had happened since that wonderful day on the river. But the Chief of Police had told Subro many things. The Rajah had been pleased by the simple gift of the little boy. He had remembered the shining eyes and the bright smile. But he had also remembered Rhamon's crippled foot.
He had asked the Chief of Police the name of the boy who had been with him in the boat that day. And the Chief had told him how Rhamon had helped him catch the thieves.
All this Rhamon had not heard, and he stood there listening with open mouth and wondering happy eyes. "All because of my poor wreath," he thought.
"So now at last you are going to the big city, Rhamon," said his father. "The American Sahib and Mem Sahib leave in three days and you shall go with them. My brother will see that you return safely."