The Essential Writings of Rudyard Kipling (Illustrated Edition). Редьярд Киплинг

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СКАЧАТЬ miles away from them? Do not listen. Oh, do not listen! Tell them that ye will stay with me, and I will make you well. I can do no more. It was for that I came. I heard of your misery ten thousand miles away, and it burnt into my heart. Would I have come so far to work you harm? Go back to your beds, my sisters, and bid these foolish people depart.'

      There was a murmur among the women, as if of assent and doubt. For a moment the decision swayed one way and the other.

      Then the man whose face had been slashed shouted, 'What is the use of talking? Let us take our wives and sisters away! We do not wish to have sons like devils. Give us your voice, O father!' he cried to the priest.

      The holy man drew himself up, and swept away Kate's appeal with a torrent of abuse, imprecation, and threats of damnation; and the crowd began to slip past Kate by twos and threes, half carrying and half forcing their kinsfolk with them.

      Kate called on the women by name, beseeching them to stay--reasoning, arguing, expostulating. But to no purpose. Many of them were in tears; but the answer from all was the same. They were sorry, but they were only poor women, and they feared the wrath of their husbands.

      Minute after minute the wards were depopulated of their occupants, as the priest resumed his song, and began to dance frenziedly in the courtyard. The stream of colours broke out down the steps into the street, and Kate saw the last of her carefully swathed women borne out into the pitiless sun-glare--only the woman of the desert remaining by her side.

      Kate looked on with stony eyes. Her hospital was empty.

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       Table of Contents

      Our sister sayeth such and such,

       And we must bow to her behests;

       Our sister toileth overmuch,

       Our little maid that hath no breasts.

      A field untilled, a web unwove,

       A bud withheld from sun or bee,

       An alien in the courts of Love,

       And priestess of his shrine is she.

      We love her, but we laugh the while;

       We laugh, but sobs are mixed with laughter;

       Our sister hath no time to smile,

       She knows not what must follow after.

      Wind of the South, arise and blow,

       From beds of spice thy locks shake free;

       Breathe on her heart that she may know,

       Breathe on her eyes that she may see.

      Alas! we vex her with our mirth,

       And maze her with most tender scorn,

       Who stands beside the gates of Birth,

       Herself a child--a child unborn!

      Our sister sayeth such and such,

       And we must bow to her behests;

       Our sister toileth overmuch,

       Our little maid that hath no breasts.

       —From Libretto of Naulahka.

      'Has the miss sahib any orders?' asked Dhunpat Rai, with Oriental calmness, as Kate turned toward the woman of the desert, staying herself against her massive shoulder.

      Kate simply shook her head with closed lips.

      'It is very sad,' said Dhunpat Rai thoughtfully, as though the matter were one in which he had no interest; 'but it is on account of religious bigotry and intolerance which is prevalent mania in these parts. Once--twice before I have seen the same thing. About powders, sometimes; and once they said that the graduated glasses were holy vessels, and zinc ointment was cow-fat. But I have never seen all the hospital disembark simultaneously. I do not think they will come back; but my appointment is State appointment,' he said, with a bland smile, 'and so I shall draw my offeeshal income as before.'

      Kate stared at him. 'Do you mean that they will never come back?' she asked falteringly.

      'Oh yes--in time--one or two; two or three of the men when they are hurt by tigers, or have ophthalmia; but the women--no. Their husbands will never allow. Ask that woman!'

      Kate bent a piteous look of inquiry upon the woman of the desert, who, stooping down, took up a little sand, let it trickle through her fingers, brushed her palms together, and shook her head. Kate watched these movements despairingly.

      'You see it is all up--no good,' said Dhunpat Rai, not unkindly, but unable to conceal a certain expression of satisfaction in a defeat which the wise had already predicted. 'And now what will your honour do? Shall I lock up dispensary, or will you audit drug accounts now?'

      Kate waved him off feebly. 'No, no! Not now. I must think. I must have time. I will send you word. Come, dear one,' she added in the vernacular to the woman of the desert, and hand in hand they went out from the hospital together.

      The sturdy Rajput woman caught her up like a child when they were outside, and set her upon her horse, and tramped doggedly alongside, as they, set off together toward the house of the missionary.

      'And whither wilt thou go?' asked Kate, in the woman's own tongue.

      'I was the first of them all,' answered the patient being at her side; 'it is fitting therefore that I should be the last. Where thou guest I will go--and afterward what will fall will fall.'

      Kate leaned down and took the woman's hand in hers with a grateful pressure.

      At the missionary's gate she had to call up her courage not to break down. She had told Mrs. Estes so much of her hopes for the future, had dwelt so lovingly on all that she meant to teach these helpless creatures, had so constantly conferred with her about the help she had fancied herself to be daily bringing to them, that to own that her work had fallen to this ruin was unspeakably bitter. The thought of Tarvin she fought back. It went too deep.

      But, fortunately, Mrs. Estes seemed not to be at home, and a messenger from the Queen Mother awaited Kate to demand her presence at the palace with the Maharaj Kunwar.

      The woman of the desert laid a restraining hand on her arm, but Kate shook it off.

      'No, no, no! I must go. I must do something,' she exclaimed almost fiercely, 'since there is still some one who will let me. I must have work. It is my only refuge, kind one. Go you on to the palace.'

      The woman yielded silently, and trudged on up the dusty road, while Kate sped into the house and to the room where the young Prince lay.

      'Lalji,' she said, bending over him, 'do you feel well enough to be lifted into the carriage and taken over to see your mother?'

      'I would rather see my father,' responded the boy from the sofa, to which he had been transferred as a reward for the improvement СКАЧАТЬ