A WILDERNESS LABORATORY 163 



take one to the Far East; and hardly had the 

 gold-boat passed out of hearing when the never- 

 to-be-forgotten beat-beat-beat-beat of a tom-tom 

 rose without hint or introduction, and straight- 

 way the cecropias became deodars and the palms 

 dwarfed to pipuls and sal, and the smells of the 

 Calcutta bazaars and the dust of Agra caravans 

 lived again in that sound. 



A voice in soft Hindustani tones was heard 

 below — the low, inarticulate phrases framing 

 themselves into a gentle honk-honka, honk, honk- 

 honka. Then, still out of sight, came a voice 

 on the stairway: " Salaam, sahib, will sahib come 

 see dance and see wedding? " 



The sahib would ; and I followed the wavering 

 lantern of the bride's father down the steep, 

 rocky path which, at the water's edge, turned 

 toward the half-dozen huts of the East Indians. 



For a week the coolie women had done no 

 work in the fields, but had spent much of their 

 time squatted in chanting circles. I learned 

 that a marriage was to take place, and, to my 

 surprise, the bride proved to be Budhany, the 

 little child who brought us milk each day from 

 the only cow south of the Mazaruni. Another 

 day, as I passed to the tent-boat, I saw the 



