Pueblo chieftain., 1922-02-06

I
| Dear Aunt Emily:
| l have intended for SO long to write
l to you, especially that the rest OF the
| family are to wait now and give you
right of way. find 1t very interest
| inS 10 write my adventures once quite
| fully, but moro of an effort to repeat
them a second or third time. / suppose
carbon copies would clear up this dif-
| ficulty. OF course. my home letters
include you as part of the family.
| The New York Times has been COM
ing up until the present time, some
three copies reaching me In Indofe 1t
has been sent out to the missionaries
reading circle there-they circulate
among them several magazines sub
| scribcd for regularly. Every one goes
for the Times picture sheets first, and
l have spent some time on the book
| review section OF each Issue, but have
| to admit that the rest OF 1t has not been
very thoroly read.
| MY friend. Louise Holcomb, made me
| promise to ask her for any books l
| might wish to have, and l have just
! spoken to her about the novel III Win
ter Comes" Have you read Il? Each
place where l have been visiting l
have had pressed upon me more things
to read-and l have with me book
on India, and several Atlantic Months
lies, I've been trying to find time for.
/ thought when l came out here
week ago, that there would be little
to write about for awhile, but this has
been most interesting experience. and
recalls by its similaritics and contrasts
all my home camping parties. came
from the town of UJjain, an hours
journey, and alighted at a little station
where there is only a single roomed
telegraph office. When my three pack
ages were deposited on the yeranda.
and i seemed inclined to stay. curios-
ity broke its bounds and l was uues-
toned in Hindu replied, Nay.
Hindi-EnGlish. one OF the men with
smathering OF English stepped up to
be told that tonga was to come for
me. A DIR. and Mrs NuGcnt were to
return to town by the afternoon train.
two hours later. and the tonga brought
them to the station when II came for
me. read my Atlantic and the na-
tivcs let me more or less alone. tho
evidently a little trouble about my not
having food and water. The telegraph
operator very politely brough, me a
cup full of water. but IT is the last
thing l could accept. No European
every drinks unboiled water in India.
Many Englishmcn solve the problem by
not drinking water AT all-always
something stronger. The lack OF good
tasting water explains the tea habit,
too. which is getting IA firm hold on
me.
Nugents about O'Clock. they saw mo
of for the six mile drive across coun-
try. Since it was less sunny TO sit in
front and drive. l did that, and the
coachmnn climbed up behind. We
couldn't speak to each other. but set
off straight across the plain that rose
and fell only little from the level.
Miss Gricr has very nice team and
this coachman has cared for them for
years. They trot for miles without
slackeDing. The thorn bushes for part
| oe our way looked like the scrub ced-
ars on our foothills tnear the old Peck
Creek reEion); then We came TO culti-
| waited fields. and great circles OF stacks
around the threshing floors. The COM
monest grain il y kind OF kafir corn
also wheat. cotton is being picked. and
quantities of the little red chiiics like
our Italians and Mexicans raise. The
| wild pcacocks roost in big mango
trees. and get their living around the
stacks. 1 have picked up n handful OF
| their feathers. Miss Gricr's camp con-
sists OF her own large tent, about 1.
| by l. with side walls and a little annex
at the rear as well as canopy in front:
| and four or five small tents for hes
helpers. Whenever possible they pitch
under large trees. and hang the fold
ing screen cupboard from a branch. A
hole six inches deep with three or four
railroad spikes driven in makes a stove
good enough for making soups. pud-
dings, roast chicken, biscuits and
cake. The cook is very tall boy OF
twenty called Sawni pronounced
Sonny. !ie is a regular boy in his
| carelcssness nbout his own possessions,
his love OF sweet things. and his ten
dcrcy TO tease. but is n good worker,
and Miss Grier treats him like a grand
| mother. She IL small grayhaircd,
brown-cycd. and very orderly and en-
crgctic: has been in this mission
| twenty-six years.
The coachman has his tent near the
horses. He is n Mohammedan. and
| cooks his own food away from all tho
| Christians. 4 family lives In one litti.
tent. the woman going out with Mis-,
Grier TO sne villages to help sing and
| 10 be company. and the man acting rs
factotum-bringing wood and water
| going for milk. and anything else tina
arises. Preboo Das is man who lives
! In the village. "A cateckist who repre-
sents the mission there. They furnish
| him a pony, and he looks after the
| Christians in villages for mites around
| He can read and write Hindu son- :
what. but has no English. My second
day out, no invited us TO come 20 his
house in the evening for kama ,foud).
About dusk he came for US anl all
| but the Mohammedan went. There is
great janxling and shouting about
that hour. when the people are put
| ting their gods to bed" as Sonny says
| The dust is about three inches deep.
and at morning and evening when tac
| herds go out and In, there is a perfec.
fog. The backs Of the mud houses
| make a wall about the village with
only a few openings. There are several
old carved brick-and- gateways
in the mud wall. and towers OF old
temples in the vicinity that indicate
great age and former prosperity hut
this Is only one OF many such places
and ND ono knows the history OF 1t ali.
The house OF Prcboo Das has three
front steps. II platform, and enhance
room big enough to keep his pony in.
sometimes bed room. and a cooking
| room; then an open court yard. We
went thru to the cooking room, and sa t
had not been determined today accord
| ing TO the police. This circumstance
/ Appmpb In huIp mn ba.rfp,v "a, ,t,u