Chapter 2: A stab in the back
Snow was very tired after the long walk. As he bent to drink and I was looking at his pretty reflection on the water, I heard a thunderous call behind me. I looked back and found the armed bailiffs of the landlord. One of them was thumping the lance on the ground, "Young lad, you may escape Lord Death, but you can't get away from Rajababu of Mallikpur." Saying this, he sprang down the steps and caught me with my hand at my back. In a trice, the others surrounded Snow and bound him with ropes so very tightly that blood seemed to be oozing out of his skin.
Both Snow and I were bound with ropes. Then they marched us, lances up, at front and back, towards our village.
The pale light of the dawn was yielding to a sparkling brightness of the day, the birds were making their notes, rays of the sun were reflecting on the lance blades. After covering some distance, one of the bailiffs said, pointing at me, "Rajababu ordered us to bring back the horse. Why are we taking this idiot also. Off, you brat, son of a cowboy." Saying this he gave me a thudding blow on the neck. My hands were tied and I stumbled on to a thorny bush. Tears welled up in my eyes in pain and insult. I raised my tied hands up to the sky and wind. "Morning sky, you are my witness, morning wind, you are my witness, Rajababu has deprived me of my Snow for no fault of mine. The Raja has deprived me of my food, has deprived me of my shelter, has heaped insults on me, has tortured my bosom friend, Snow. Have I ever hurt my mother, have I ever hurt my father, have I ever hurt any one in my village? If I have not, then, you morning sky and morning wind, listen to me, I promise, I will make the Raja lick the dust before that areca tree grows sixteen rings - I counted twelve when I left my village."
As I was uttering my vow, I looked back and found them going off, lances up, with Snow. Walking along, Snow somehow managed to look back at me, I could notice the pain he felt in doing so because of the tight ropes.
I was bleeding at the feet but without caring I stood up loosening the leash. I walked the whole day, reached an empty hut at the end of a village. I laid down on its verandah. I fell ill with hunger and thirst. I pondered on my future, on Snow, on my village, on my mother and fell asleep.
During my sleep I could hear Snow neighing. My sleep was disturbed. I found the dark night enveloping everything, the sky sparkling with stars, and actually the wind was carrying the faint neighing of Snow.
I listened to the wind to catch his neighing. Sometimes the wind changed direction. Then I lost it. I got it again when the wind blew in my direction. I sat rapt in attention and a sudden burst of wind seemed to carry the sound of his hoof. I seemed to be hearing his continuing canter and occasionally, neighing so very clearly.
Gradually the sound seemed to be getting louder and approaching me. And then it stopped. Immediately, I sprang from the verandah and hugged him. I caressed his forehead. I could feel his hot breath on me. I saw that they had reined in Snow, with a polished leather bridle and glistening brass rings. "Bravo, Snow!" I cried out, "even the royal ropes couldn't hold you back. Did they offer you grass and water?" Snow looked up at me. The moon was up in the sky, like a sliced coconut kernel. I could see he did not have anything to eat the whole day. I kept on caressing his forehead.
When I caress him so, he usually stands still, but today he was restless, neighing very frequently and occasionally rubbing his mouth on me. "What happened to you, my dear?" In reply he came closer and signalled me to sit on his back. I had never ridden it and was considering if I should when Snow began to neigh strongly. May be, I thought he was trying to say that the bailiffs of the Malliks were chasing him. I got on his back.
As soon as I did so, Snow stood erect and taut as a bow before the release of an arrow. He plunged into the darkness.
Snow galloped and galloped till we reached a village. The sun had risen quite high in the east. The village was encircled by a river on three sides. I got down from Snow's back, uprooted some grass, washed it in river water and fed him. Drawing water in my cupped palms, I let him drink.
Along the bank of the river, at knee-deep water, village women, little boys and girls were catching fish with their small nets. They were all very skinny. One of them, equally skinny, extremely old, was catching fish with bare hands. She came down to me and looked intently at me with blinking eyes and finally said, "Where is your home, boy?"
"A long way from here. It may take three months if one walks the distance," said I.
I did not know what the old woman made of it. She, however, said, "No, my boy, you are lying. You are coming from the land of gods. Otherwise, how could you get those eyes just like the morning sky? I've aged quite a lot but never have I seen such a horse who is like as white as snow."
Thus saying the old woman and others who were busy catching fish took me inside the village. They invited me to sit on a straw mat after sprinkling water on the small court of a hut with clay wall and thatched roof. Two girls were fanning me and Snow with palm leaf fans. Some others cut a few green coconuts and gave its sweet water and pulp. After we had eaten, the old woman said, "The gods have sent you to us, boy. Please rescue my village boys."
"What's the matter with them?" I asked. The old woman said, "This was not like this in the olden days. Even a few years ago, we had numerous milk cows grazing on our pastures. In the fields our strong boys used to twist the tails of our bullocks, drag their ploughs and the air was full of the boys' call to their bullocks. The paddy used to grow right up to the riverbank. In huts after huts girls used to pound the paddy on their husking pedals and massed their grains in their barns, thrashed parboiled paddy into flattened rice, fried their paddy in sand on ovens into parched rice, prepared rice cakes, and the new harvesting days were filled with the aroma, of newly grown rice, that drew countless hordes of crows from afar to accept the rice offering. But then, one year, nobody knows why or how, there was an epidemic that killed cows and bullocks. The few who survived lived but as if dead, they could not stand firmly, they were prone to lay on grounds, their bodies as bony as could be and they ultimately died. There was no milk worth the name in the whole village, one had to search houses after houses to get a drop of milk. And to top it all, my boy, cultivation came to a standstill. Not a single grain could be grown. We have forgotten how rice looks like. Can strong boys live without ploughing? Some left villages to go abroad; the others, distressed in body and mind, used to lie listless, as stricken as the cows. What else could I do? In this old age I take village girls and kids every day to the river But can one live on the fish or roots and herbs or coconut? Can one live without a handful of rice? Look at our hands and feet-chilblains all over through continuous contact with water The exorcists, doctors and fakirs of the village tried their best We paid homage to gods, we staked at their feet so much, but nothing happened, the boys and cows could not stand up. Can you try, my boy, your eyes promise you can help us"
Hearing all this I said grandma, I know nothing though you expect much from me. But I feel as distressed as you hearing of your woes. I'll try my best and see if I can be of any help. You show me where the ailing cows and boys are."
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