CHAPTER III
FATHER FRAGRANCE LIMES A TWIG

Ruys. – I care for naught but gold. Gold holds the keys of this strong earth, and I Am earthy, of its mould. That unseen thing, The crown of glory, lies beyond the stars; I know it not… Give me my gold.

Maraffa, a Tragedy.

A broad streak of yellow water is drowsing toward the sea, and lies hedged in to the right and to the left by the most luxuriant vegetation. Here teak and mango, palm and bamboo grow side by side, and are laced together by the octopus arms of the cobweb of creepers that spreads over the forest and tries in vain to bind down its splendid growth. There is hardly any sign of animal life, although the forests teem with it. Occasionally the great woodpecker or a flight of green paroquets flash like emeralds through the patches of sunshine between the leaves, or the melancholy cry of a mule pheasant echoes dismally through the woods. Yet although no beast and hardly a bird may be seen, this void is filled by the ever-present abundance of insects, for here is their paradise. It is true that those grotesque specimens of creation which, like the sons of Belial, wander forth at night, are reserving themselves in a million cracks and crannies for the pleasures of the evening; but the gnat and mosquito are on the alert, and the fly is here on his path of annoyance. Through the dense masses of foliage glide, like the snakes which infest them, the creeks that cut the delta of the Irawadi into numberless channels, and while thus dividing it serve as a means of communication from one part of the country to the other; for who, unless an Englishman, would scramble through the bramble and thorn of the jungle? Who would do so, when it is so easy to sit in a canoe and ship silently along the ooze of the creeks?

Some little way back from the main stream a canoe lies hidden in a small backwater. There are two occupants, and, being Burmans, they are of course both smoking, for smoke to the Burman is what beer is to the Saxon, a Derringer to the gentlemen of Arkansas, or opium to the Celestial. One of the two, in whose powerful hand is grasped a long-bladed paddle, is apparently a man of the people. He wears his hair long, and the golden brown of his limbs is covered with tattoo marks in strange devices. The other is a man of God; his yellow robe, his shaven crown, mark the priest of Budh. There is no asceticism, however, in the fat cheeks, or in the beadlike eyes which glint out from above the high cheek bones. The mouth is like a sword cut, long and cruel-looking, and the sensual aspect of the face is only matched by its cunning and treacherous look.

"Payah," said the man with the paddle, using a Burmese title of the highest respect, "we have now waited for two hours; the steamer will not come to-day."

The priest went on smoking as if he had not heard the remark, and his companion relapsed into silence. After a few minutes, however, the clerical gentleman found voice.

"Moung Sen," said he, "your name means red diamond, but it ought to have meant a clod. Did I not tell you that the steamer will come to-day? and I tell you again she will come. The wire has brought me the news. Two hours! What are two hours to me? I gain two hundred years of eternal bliss by meditating during two hours on holy matters of which you laymen know nothing- Hark! there is the whistle that was to be our signal."

And even as he spoke the shrill whistle of the Woon announced her coming, and the dull boom of the answering gun from Pazobin rang out in response.

Moung Sen bent his back to the paddle, and the boat shot out of the backwater to the very edge of the creek. There, concealed by the drooping foliage, they could see without being seen, and watch without any risk of discovery.

"Payah Bah Hmoay, the steamer approaches near," and, parting the screen of leaves with his hands, Moung Sen peered out.

"Yes, and with it Jackson, the new ruler of the land. I heard him say in Rangoon that he would stamp out all evildoers, so you, Moung Sen, had better be careful."

The boatman showed a row of teeth that would have driven a tiger mad with envy, and chuckled to himself. As the steamer came near they could hear the hissing of the paddles, and the wash rocked the canoe up and down to the no small danger of its upsetting.

Moung Sen was longing for a race. He would have dearly liked to have pulled against the steamer for the jetty. His slanting eyes twinkled with excitement, and he turned an imploring look on Bah Hmoay.

"Ho!" grunted Father Fragrance, "be still. What with racing and gambling and women, you will come to a bad end some day-hang to a string and dance upon nothing. Is this a time to think of racing, when that young fool on the steamer yonder is come here with his new-fangled notions? Back, I say! Our friends have heard the steamer's whistle and will have assembled. Here! give me a paddle too." He seized the spare paddle that was handed to him, and, loosening his robe to give his arm free play, rowed with a most unclerical skill. Guided by their powerful strokes the canoe sped back, and, taking a narrow cutting at the head of the backwater, they rowed steadily on for ten minutes and then stopped.

Moung Sen put his hands to his mouth and hooted twice like an owl. A cock crowed twice in reply. "They are there," he said, and, running the canoe on to the bank, the two men secured it firmly with a creeper, then, taking an almost invisible path, they trotted along it like sleuthhounds. After a short distance was travelled in this manner Moung Sen hooted again, and again the cock answered as it were out of the hollow of a huge silk-cotton tree a few yards away. Then the tree began to give up its fruit. One by one four men came out of the hollow, and half a dozen others dropped lightly from the branches where they had lain concealed. Each as he approached the priest bowed lowly before him. They took their places in a semicircle whose ends were to the right and left of Bah Hmoay. He gazed on them for a moment; they were a strong and likely looking set of men, fit for any devil's work. The chequered light fell on the bronze of their bodies, for they were naked to the waist, lit up the hideous blue and red of the tattoo marks with which they were covered, and ran in a line of fire on the long straight blades of the dahs they held in their hands. Then Bah Hmoay spoke, taking the men before him into his confidence, choosing his language simply, and appealing to all their weaknesses.

"And now, my companions," he concluded, "I have told you all that I learned during my visit to Rangoon, and how the plans are progressing. At Wuntho the chief is ready to take up arms; the Shan States are on fire-on fire, I say-and every creek and jungle holds gallant men only waiting for the signal to rise. Our whole difficulty is money-for when was a Burman rich? I propose, however, to meet this, and to find funds by a bold stroke. You all know the treasury at Yeo. It is thirty miles from here, and there are a hundred rupees there, all with the White Queen's head on them. Half shall be yours; the other half goes to the cause. Are you ready?"

There was a murmur of assent.

"Thank you. There is but one word more: in a week from to-day-the day of the guinea pig-you must be at Yeo. And now for the water of the oath." He loosened a small pocketbook from his waist cloth as he said these words, and, writing a few lines on a page, tore it out. One held an earthen vessel full of water before him, and another lit a sulphur match. The Boh put the match to the paper and held it over the water, into which as it burned away the cinders fell; but when the flame got too close to his fingers to be pleasant the chief dropped the little unburned tag of paper into the water, and it went out with a splutter. Then taking the vessel in his hands, he swore to be faithful to the men before him, and, drinking a little, handed it to Moung Sen. That worthy pledged his soul on his good faith to the assembly, and, taking his sip, passed on the bowl. It went the round of every man there until it reached the last, who, when he too had sworn and drunken, dropped the vessel to the ground, where it broke into pieces.

This closed the chapter of the order, and the knights proceeded to disperse, each man with his long green cheroot burning in his mouth and his dah tucked away over his shoulder, a grotesque amalgam of devil and the child, the like of which is not equalled anywhere in the world.

Bah Hmoay and his Little John were once more alone, and the Boh or chief turned to his subaltern with a somewhat anxious look in his eyes, and asked:

"Do you think they will be true?"

"My name means red diamond, but it ought to mean a clod," laughed Moung Sen. "Yes, I think they will be true, and will all be hanged for their faith, while you will end as a great man. But there is something else to do to-day."

"Hawkshawe-true-I have not forgotten; however, we ought to be getting back," and making for the canoe they rowed out into the open stream and then drifted down toward the town. As the priest stepped from the canoe his face assumed the severe expression of sanctity suitable to his calling; an obsequious disciple met him and opened an umbrella over his head, and he walked toward the pagoda or temple meeting with respectful greetings from all. He entered the gates of the pagoda, on either side of which grinned two colossal griffins, and, making his way through a courtyard thronged with worshippers, passed into the great hall, where a huge image of Gautama looked down upon him with calm, inquiring eyes. A tall, graceful woman stood at the foot of the idol, and as the priest approached she looked at him with something of impatience in her glance, and said, "I have been waiting here for nearly an hour."

"My daughter, it is patience and resignation which, united with thought, leads us to holy Nirvana."

"Pish! I haven't come here to bandy words about Nirvana. Was it for this you sent Loo-ga-lay for me?"

Bah Hmoay dropped his voice to a whisper as he said, "You are too hasty; women are always so. Follow me," and, passing behind the idol, he touched a door which seemed to open of its own accord, disclosing a small passage dimly lighted by a single lamp. At the end of the passage was a small archway, so low that it was necessary for both to stoop as they entered it, and beyond was a large hall, along whose sides a row of Gautamas or images of the Budh was arranged with military precision. The images were alternately of white and black marble, and at the extreme end lay a huge recumbent casting of the Messiah of the East. Small lozenge-shaped cuttings in the wall above let in bars of light, which fell on the dim statues and made the polished brass of the recumbent image glow as if it were red-hot. The girl leaned lightly against the arm of the huge figure, and something flashed in her hand as she did so. Bah Hmoay observed it as he pointed to the dagger, and said with a smile, "You are very careful, Ma Mie; too careful for one so beautiful."

There was enough in the speaker's voice to make his listener turn on him like a panther, and Father Fragrance stepped back with a hasty apology. Then he spoke in a low tone for some time, the woman all the while keeping her guarded attitude. "There," he said at last, "this is a good offer. Will it do?"

"I am selling my husband's honour," she replied. "No, it is worth a larger price."

The priest uttered an exclamation of impatience, and moving off a few feet stooped near the foot of an idol, and picking up something from a recess there returned bearing it in his hands. He held it to the light as he approached, and Ma Mie saw that it was a bracelet of rubies, which flashed and glowed with a hundred colours. She almost gasped as she looked at it.

"Oh, how lovely!"

"Let me put it on your arm." Bah Hmoay, suiting his action to his words, stepped back with an admiring look. "There is nothing like this in all Pazobin," he said. "I will add it to my offer."

The woman hesitated and was lost. "It is a bargain," she said, and the face of Father Fragrance glowed with joy. "The new Englishman comes to dine with him to-night," she added. "When he is gone, I will settle all. And now I must go; I have been away too long."

"You can go this way," said the priest as he turned the key in a carved door toward the right, and opening it showed Ma Mie a back path that led out of the pagoda gardens. "And remember, the police guard must be very weak at Yeo next Friday."

She nodded and passed out, and Bah Hmoay watched her down the pathway and saw her raise her arm and look at the bracelet upon it. "Selling her husband's honour!" he laughed to himself. "When had Hawkshawe any to sell? Those ideas of hers are, however, very expensive, and I had to take away my peace offering from this old gentleman here." He patted the face of the idol from under whose foot he had removed the jewels. "However, he won't miss it, and Friday evening will see me repaid and ready to buy another rag of Mr. Hawkshawe's honour."