BYRAM AND GHOPAL. 



III. 



GHOPAL AS BYRAM's DISCIPLE. 



BREAKFAST ended, Byram called two 

 poor women who had come into the 

 Serai, and sat waiting for the conclusion of 

 the meal, and bade them take away the 

 remnants, and all the uncooked food, and 

 then bade Ghopal prepare to take him the 

 round of the Bazaar preparatory to leaving 



the city. 



Ghopal was soon ready, and approaching 

 Byram's cot the latter took a grip of Ghopal's 

 hair, and sprang to his shoulders with an 

 activity you would hardly have given him 

 credit for, but he was very light and wiry. 

 The news of the contract had reached the 

 Bazaar before them, and the merchants 

 were very much amused over Ghopal's vain 

 hopes, for although Byram described him- 

 self as "the legless one," he was universally 

 spoken of as Byram the Wise, or Byram 

 the Disciple of Brahma; and no one be- 

 lieved that Ghopal would ever get the better 

 of him in argument. 



Every shopkeeper gave a copper, and al- 

 though some gave only one-quarter of a 

 cent, and no one more than three cents, the 

 total contribution amounted to a trifle more 

 than three rupees, equal to a dollar and a 

 half. At the corner of the Bazaar there 

 was a money changer with his table, and 

 Byram, taking the coppers from his girdle, 

 exchanged them for silver. Ghopal's eyes 

 glistened with pleasure and astonishment at 

 the sight of so much wealth, for four rupees^ 

 or two dollars a month, was the most he had 

 ever earned by hard work. He was so 

 elated that he did not heed Byram's weight, 

 and was anxious to set off at once on their 

 journey, for Byram never staid long in one 

 place, and had told Ghopal that they were 

 to sleep that night at a village about ten 

 miles distant. 



At the outskirts of the town they came to 

 the house of a Brahmin, and Byram asked 

 for water. The Brahmin filled an earthen 

 chatty and handed it up to Byram. After 

 he had drunk, the Brahmin replenished the 

 chatty and handed it to Ghopal, who drained 

 it and then threw it on the ground and 

 broke it; for although he was a potter and 

 made pots for Brahmins to drink from, he 

 could not raise them to his own lips with- 

 out defiling them. 



The Brahmin then handed his hookah to 

 Byram, who took a few whiffs, and Ghopal, 

 placing a live coal in the chillum of his 

 own hookah, turned his back upon the city, 

 and trudged steadily along the dusty 

 road. 



During the first mile, not a word was 

 spoken on either side. Byram was lost in 

 calm reflection, and Ghopal was speculating 

 on his chances of being able to claim the 

 three rupees at eventide. It was difficult 

 to refrain from broaching a subject of so 

 much interest, but he was a shrewd fellow, 

 and remembering that Byram had to con- 

 vince him or forfeit the money, he smiled 

 to himself as he thought what a good joke 

 it would be if the Brahmin, lost in medita- 

 tion, should forget the whole matter. 



The sun was now rising high in the 

 heavens, and as Ghopal wiped the sweat 

 from his brow, he bethought him of the say- 

 ing of the Faquir at Halla, that "they only 

 are wise men who earn their bread by the 

 sweat of other men's brows." There ap- 

 pears to be no escape from labor for me, 

 thought he ; for carrying a Brahmin on 

 one's shoulders from town to town is quite 

 as tiresome as kneading clay. Perhaps 

 some day I shall find the secret of riding 

 on other men's shoulders ! 



