The Seattle post-intelligencer. [volume] (Seattle, Wash. Terr. [Wash.]) 1888-1914, 1890-07-06
A STORY OF INDIA

A SIUK1 UF INDIA
By the hoof of the Wild Goat up-tossed
From the Cliff where she lay In the sun.
Fell the stone
To the Tarn where the daylight Is lost;
30 She fell from the light of the sun,
Aud alone.
Now the fall was ordained from the FIRST,
With the Goat and the Cliff and the Tarn;
Knows o-ly Her life Ia accursed,
As She sinks in the depths of the Tarn,
And alone.
Oh, Thou who hast builded the worldi
Oh, Thou who hast lighted the Sun!
Oh, Thou who hast darkened the Tarni
Judge Thou
The sin of the Stone that was hurled
By the Goat from the light of the sun,
Az She sinks in the mire of the Tarn,
Even now-eyen now-even nowi
from the unpublished papers Of Mcintosh Jeila-
fudiR.
Saw, is 1t dawn, is il dusk in thy bower.
Thou whom long for, who longest for met
Oh. be 1t night-be it
Here he fell over little camel-colt that
was sleeping in the Serai. where the horse
traders and the best of the blackguards
from Central Asia live; and. because he
was very drunk indeed and the night was
dark. he could not rise till / helped him.
That was the beginning of my acquaint-
ance with Mcintosh Jellaludin. When
loafer and drunk sings The Song OF the
Bower, he must be worth cultivating. He
got of the camel's back and said, rather
thickly: 'I-I-I'm q bit screwed, but
dip in Loggerhead viii put me right again;
and. say. have you spoken to Symonds
about the mares knees"
Now Loggerhead was six thousand weary
miles away from US, close to Mesopotamia.
where you musn't fish. and poaching is
impossible, and Charley Symond's stable
half mile further across the paddocks. It
was strange to hear all the old names, on q
May night, among the horses and camels
of the Sultan Caravanseri. Then the man
seemed to remember himself and sober
down at the same time. He leaned against
the camel and pointed to a corner of the
Serai where lamp was burning.
II live there" said he, land 1 should be
extremely obliged if you would be good
enough to help my mutinous feet thither:
for am more than usually drunk-most,
most phenomenally tight But not in re-
spect to my head. My brain cries out
against'-how does it GOT But my head
rides on the-rolls on the dung hill /
should have said, and controls the qualm."
/ helped him through the gangs of teth-
cred horses and he collapsed on the edge
of the veranda in front of the line of native
quarters.
"Thanks-a thousand thanks! o moon
and little, little starsl To think that
man should so shamelessly . = in
famous liquor. too. Ovid in exile drank
no worse. Better. 1t was frozen. Alas
had no ice. Good night l would intro
duce you to my wife were / sober-or she
civilized"
A native woman came out of the dark
ness of the room and began calling the man
names, so l went away. He was the most
interesting loafer that had had the
pleasure of knowing for long time, and
later on he became friend of mine. He
was tall. well-built. fair man, fearfully
shaken with drink, and he looked nearer
so than the IS, which he said was his real
age. When man begins to sink in India,
and is not sent home by his friends as soon
as he may be. he falls very low, from a re-
spectacle point of view. BY the time he
changes his creed, as did Mcintosh, he is
past redemption.
In most big cities natives will tell you of
two or three sahibs, generally low caste,
who have turned Hindu or Mussulman.
and who live more or less as such. But it
is not often that you can get to know them.
As Mcintosh himself used to saw: ''If /
change my religion for my stomach's sake,
do not seek to become a martyr to mis-
sionaries, nor am anxious for notoriety."
At the outset OF acquaintance Mcintosh
warned me: Remember this. l am not
an object for charity. 1 require neither
your money, your food nor your cast-off
raiment. l am that rare animal, a self
"a rd oh
will smoke with you, for the tobacco of the
bazars does not. l admit, suit my palate;
and l will borrow any books that YOU may
not specially value. 1t is more than likely
that shall sell them for bottles of excess
sively filthy country liquors. In return,
you shall share such hospitality as my
house affords. Here Is charpoy on which
two can sit, and it is possible that there
may, from time to time, be food in that
platter. Drink, unfortunately, YOU will
find on the premises at any hour, and thus
l make you welcome to all my poor estab-
lishment"
l was admitted TO the Mcintosh house
hold-I and my good tobacco. But moth
Ing else Unluckily, one cannot visit a
loafer in the Serial by day. Friends buying
horses would not understand il. Conse-
quently l was obliged 10 see Mcintosh
after dark. He laughed at this, and said
simply: You are perfectly right When
higher than yours, should have done
exactly the same thing. Good Heavens /
was once"-he spoke as though he had
fallen from the command of regiment
IAN Oxford mani" This accounted for the
reference to Charley Symon's stable.
"You," said Mcintosh, have not had
that advantage but 10 outward appearance.
you do not seem possessed of a craving for
strong drinks. On the whole, fancy that
YOU are the luekier of the two. Yet am
not certain. You are-iorgive me for saw
ing so even while l am smoking YOUR ex.
cellent tobacco-painfully ignorant of
many things"
We were sitting together on the edge of
the bedstead. for he owned no chairs,
watching the horses being watered for the
night, while the native woman was pre-
pairing dinner. did not like being patron
ixed by loafer. bat | was his guest for
the time being, though he owned only a
very torn alpaca coat and pair of trousers
made out of gunny-hags. He took the
nipe out of his mouth and went on
iDdic;ally: "Ail things considered. doubt
whether you are the luckier. l do not re-
fer TO your extremely limited classical st
tainments. or your excrueiasing qe7ntities.
but TO your gross ignorance o. matters
more immediately under your notice. That