the _ghats_ (landing-steps) with their
appearance--the elders conversing, the middle-aged worshipping _Siva_,
the younger covering their faces and plunging into the water; the boys
and girls screaming, playing with mud, stealing the flowers offered in
worship, swimming, throwing water over every one, sometimes stepping
up to a lady, snatching away the image of _Siva_ from her, and running
off with it. The Brahmans, good tranquil men, recited the praises of
_Ganga_ (the sacred river Ganges) and performed their worship,
sometimes, as they wiped their streaming hair, casting glances at the
younger women.

In the sky, the white clouds float in the heated air. Below them fly
the birds, like black dots. In the cocoanut trees, kites, like
ministers of state, look around to see on what they can pounce; the
cranes, being only small fry, stand raking in the mud; the _dahuk_
(coloured herons), merry creatures, dive in the water; other birds of
a lighter kind merely fly about. Market-boats sail along at good speed
on their own behalf; ferry-boats creep along at elephantine pace to
serve the needs of others only: cargo boats make no progress at
all--that is the owners' concern.

On the third day of Nagendra's journey clouds arose and gradually
covered the sky. The river became black, the tree-tops drooped, the
paddy birds flew aloft, the water became motionless. Nagendra ordered
the _manji_ (boatman) to run the boat in shore and make it fast. At
that moment the steersman, Rahamat Mullah, was saying his prayers, so
he made no answer. Rahamat knew nothing of his business. His mother's
father's sister was the daughter of a boatman; on that plea he had
become a hanger-on of boatmen, and accident favoured his wishes; but
he learned nothing, his work was done as fate willed. Rahamat was not
backward in speech, and when his prayers were ended he turned to the
Babu and said, "Do not be alarmed, sir, there is no cause for fear."
Rahamat was thus brave because the shore was close at hand, and could
be reached without delay, and in a few minutes the boat was secured.

Surely the gods must have had a quarrel with Rahamat Mullah, for a
great storm came up quickly. First came the wind; then the wind,
having wrestled for some moments with the boughs of the trees, called
to its brother the rain, and the two began a fine game. Brother Rain,
mounting on brother Wind's shoulders, flew along. The two together,
seizing the tree-tops, bent them down,