Our Little Hindu Cousin Part 1

Our Little Hindu Cousin.

by Blanche McMa.n.u.s.

Preface

OUR little cousins of Hindustan are charming little people, even though their manners and customs and their religion are so very different from our own.

India is a big country, and there are many different races of people living within its borders, the two princ.i.p.al ones being the Mohammedans and the Hindus. The Mohammedans number about sixty millions and there are about a hundred and eighty millions of Hindus, who are by far the superior race.

The intelligence of the Hindus is of a very high order, but, like all Eastern races, they have many superst.i.tions. Their attention to their food and drink and personal cleanliness is remarkable, and, though their customs in this respect are peculiar, they follow a healthful and sanitary manner of living which might well be practised by Western folk.

The arts and crafts of the Hindus and their trades and professions are very strange and interesting, and the young people themselves invariably grow up in the same occupations as their elders. There is no mixing of the races or _castes_, and members of one caste always a.s.sociate with those of the same cla.s.s.

But the English influence is making itself so strongly felt, that frequently the children learn English as early in life as they do their own language; so our little American cousins would almost always be able to make of them good playfellows and would perhaps be able to learn many valuable lessons from Our Little Hindu Cousins.

B. McM.

SUEZ, _January, 1907_.

CHAPTER I

CHOLA AT HOME

IT was barely light when little Chola rolled out of his blanket and gave his cousin Mahala a shake as he lay stretched out beside him.

"Lazy one, listen! I hear little kids bleating below in the courtyard; the new goats with the long hair must have come. Hasten! We will be the first to see them!"

"Oh!" said Mahala, sitting up and rubbing his eyes, "thou art the plague of my life. I was in the midst of a beautiful dream. I dreamed that I was sitting beside a clear stream, with many dishes of sweetmeats beside me, and I was just beginning to eat them when thou didst wake me."

"Oh, thou greedy one! 'Tis always of sweets that thou art thinking,"

laughed Chola, as he and Mahala ran down the little winding stairway which led from their room into the courtyard.

"Here they are, aren't they dear little creatures?" cried Chola, as two little kids came frisking toward them, while the big white mother goat followed them bleating piteously.

"What fine long white hair they have," exclaimed Mahala, trying to catch one of the kids as it bounded past him.

"A lot of fuss over some goats," grumbled the old porter. "This fellow with his goats came hammering before c.o.c.k-crow at the gate," continued the old man, who did not like having to come down from his little room over the big gateway of the court at such an early hour to open the gate.

"We are early risers in the hills," said the man who had brought the goats. "It is you town folks who are lazy; but I promised your master when he bought the goats in the market yesterday that he should have them this morning."

"Oh, thou art from the hills," exclaimed the boys, looking curiously at the little man in his strange dress.

"Yes, from the far northwest; and both I and my goats are homesick for the tall mountains with the snow on their tops and the great pine-trees.

We like not these hot plains; but I must be off to the market," and, twirling his stick, the little man left, clanging the heavy gate behind him.

"Come, we will bathe before our fathers come down," said Mahala, after they had played about with the kids awhile; "they always say we are in their way." So saying the two little boys ran into the big garden where, under a group of mango-trees, there was a big stone tank, or pond, of water, with steps going down into it. Here Chola and Mahala bathed every morning, for it was part of their religion and must be done in a certain way. Indeed, some of our little Hindu cousins bathe before each meal; and this is why, all over India, you will see the people bathing in the rivers, in the public bathing-places, and in their own gardens at all times of the day. Moreover, it is a very pleasant custom for a hot country like India. As the boys were splas.h.i.+ng merrily about in the big tank, down dropped a big mango right on top of Chola's head.

"Where did that come from?" he cried, looking around; but there was no one to be seen, so he went on splas.h.i.+ng, when down came another mango, and a sound was heard as if some one was chuckling to himself.

"Oh, it's thou, son of mischief!" cried Chola, as a little monkey leaped down and capered around on the edge of the tank.

It was Jam, Chola's pet monkey. A cousin of the gardener had caught it in his field one night when he was guarding his crops from the monkeys.

These mischievous animals would often dash out in droves from the near-by forest at night and eat up the farmers' crop. He did not wish to kill the little monkey; for, like many Hindus, he thought it a sacred animal. So he had brought it to Chola for a pet.

The boys had great fun with Jam, though often he would play mischievous pranks on them. To-day Jam thought this was just his chance to have fun.

Spying Chola's turban lying beside his clothes on the steps of the tank, he pounced upon it and carried it up into the mango-tree.

"Oh, son of mischief, just wait until I catch thee! Bring back my turban!" cried Chola, as he scrambled out of the water and climbed up after Jam in a jiffy. It would never do for him to lose his turban, for it would be very bad manners for him to be seen without this curious head-covering. But as Chola went up the tree, Jam climbed down by an out-stretching limb and swung himself to the ground, then away he went tearing around the garden with Chola after him. Suddenly Jam tossed the turban over the garden wall and flew to the top of the house, wild with joy at having given Chola such a chase.

"Oh, Mahala, find it for me," said Chola, as he dropped breathless on the gra.s.s.

Mahala ran out into the road and was back directly.

"Here is thy turban all unrolled," he laughed, throwing what seemed to be many yards of white cloth at Chola.

"Just wait until I take a good bamboo stick to thee, wicked one," said Chola, shaking his fist at Jam, now safe out of reach, and beginning to wind the cloth around his head.

After their bath it did not take the boys long to dress, for they just wound a long white garment around and around them, and slipped over this a little jacket.

"Let us go to the cook-room now and see what the women are cooking; to dream of sweets does not take away one's hunger," said Mahala, after the boys had given their teeth a vigorous was.h.i.+ng and rubbing with little sticks, which was another one of their religious duties.

As the boys ran across the courtyard, scattering the goats, doves, and fowls which were picking up seeds and grain, a voice called out: "Give me food, oh, little princelings!"

"That must be a beggar, but I do not see him," said Mahala, looking around.

"It is old green-coat," said Chola, laughing, and pointing to the other side of the court where hung a hoop in which sat a beautiful parrot, all brilliant green and blue and red. He could talk so well that a stranger who came to the house would look everywhere to find the human being who he thought had spoken to him. Once there came a thief who thought he could steal the fine c.o.c.k that stood under the veranda with his head under his wing. Just as the thief caught the c.o.c.k by the neck, such a torrent of abuse came from above that he dropped the c.o.c.k and rolled in the dust, crying out: "Mercy! mercy! Oh, great one, thy slave will never do this thing again!" Then as he heard a laugh, and no one seized him, he fearfully lifted his head, and there sat the parrot swinging on his hoop-perch. The thief slunk away very much ashamed that he had been fooled by a bird.

"Ah, it smells good!" said Mahala, as they looked in at the door of the cook-house which was near the great gateway.

There were no stoves or even fireplaces in the cook-room, but a series of little holes or cupboards in the wall, in each of which was a pot or pan resting on a few bricks or stones over a tiny fire. These little ovens were near the floor, so that the cook could watch the pots and pans while squatting. No Hindu stands up to any kind of work if he has a chance to sit down.

Three or four women were squatting around watching the cooking, while the boys' old grandmother bustled about scolding everybody within sight.

"Do not linger here," said the grandmother to the boys, "this is no place for children."

"But, grandmother, Shriya is here," objected Mahala; "why can't we stay, too."

"I am helping grandmother," said Mahala's little sister Shriya, who, with a very important air, was sitting on the floor stirring something in a big bowl. Shriya felt that she was a person of importance these days, for was she not going to be married soon!

"Shriya is a useful little girl; besides, why are you not in the great room where thy fathers make sacrifice to the G.o.ds of the Household?"

answered the old lady, rather tartly. Like all good cooks she did not like to be bothered while she was preparing her dishes.

"Come away, the grandmother is always cross when she is in the cook-room," whispered Chola; so he and Mahala crossed the court again and went into the house.