Chapter XLV: Ritual of the Human Race 292 (7)

The Doctor cogitated over this: “I can understand mother’s love, and its response in all human kind; filial love, brother’s love, sisterly affection, and much that is implied thereby, they are innate in all races; but when it comes to thinking and speaking and acting as if all others are sharing our affection for the one we love in particular, as Adele assumed, then I think a still nobler spirit exists, something borne in from without must have been granted her. She seems even unnaturally good. Here am I looking for this something-worth-knowing as manifested by races at large to-day, and I hear much in India about the brotherhood-of-man; yet, right here under my eyes appears a girl manifesting it in her experience, as if she knew more about it and its differentiations, truly, than any of us. Now one might say that each individual loves his own parents, or ought to; and certainly here in Asia what they call ancestral veneration does obtain without necessarily much ardent love; but all that is a very different thing from seeing the very best of one’s self in others, and acknowledging it--feeling that one is but an exponent of the good in all, yet without conceit. That appeals to me as the work of the Holy Spirit in man; one may say unnatural, because more than natural; and that is to be born again--spiritual rebirth.”

The illness of Mrs. Cultus soon manifested another phase. No matter how incongruous her delusions or hallucinations might be, her own character, the principle of her own individuality, always dominated; the energy which lies deeper than even the manifestation of life, on which the identity of man and his existence and the continuance of his existence depend, was never inactive; the principle of individuality which determines both the form of character and the physical frame, as well as the connection between them, was never violated. It was Carlotta Gains Cultus _herself_; from her came the thoughts. They were not words put into her mind by suggestions from others.

One of her delusions was that she had lost all her money, her fortune, and was now in a foreign land among many strangers to whom she might be obliged to appeal, in case family necessities forced them to work for their living. From her point of view this was the direst calamity conceivable. She expressed herself, however, with that peculiar tact which showed how all the characteristics she had inherited from her father were rooted and grounded in her very being. She was talking to Miss Winchester:

“Frank, do you think the people over here would like it if the Professor should lecture before them? Would he draw good houses?”

Miss Winchester smiled, but knowing full well that Mrs. Cultus could not be easily deceived, and would not be satisfied by anything indefinite, answered as if serious:

“Of course, he’d draw, once or twice, on account of his reputation; but I doubt about keeping it up.”

“Why not, Frank?”

“India’s a complicated place, you know; only Jadoo Wallahs and balloon ascensions draw intelligent people--h’m!--native crowds don’t count any more than middle-of-the-road people do at home; now and again a polo or cricket match, even the theatres are at a discount.”

“Couldn’t we try the Bishop and his set?”

“Certainly; if for charitable purposes.”

“Oh, dear! dear!” said the patient dolefully, “not yet charity, not yet.” Then in a low, troubled voice: “I suppose Adele and I must do something, ourselves. What can we do? I feel so helpless, so weak!” Another expedient soon suggested itself. It was sad to see her thus frantically trying to think to some purpose; finally the effort was successful.

“Frank, do they play whist over here?” and then realizing that the object must be clearly understood: “I could give lessons myself, but dear Adele, my precious darling! it would be too much for her, she never took to whist.” The poor woman seemed so serious, the situation was really pathetic.

XXX

CONVALESCENCE AND COMMON SENSE

These periods of hallucination, mingled with very practical considerations, continued for some days, until the fever ran its course. Fortunately it is not within the scope of this story to note the progress of physical ailments; it is more timely to note the effects upon the mental and the spiritual life of an excellent woman ever true to herself and to others, even during hallucinations. It was fortunate also that Mrs. Cultus herself relieved her attendants of any uncertainty in the matter.

She had just passed through a period of exceptionally vivid impressions of disaster, when one of those flashes of clearer perception, before referred to, came to her rescue; whether merely a reaction from her previous weak condition, or because she was so thoroughly frightened by what she had conceived as possible, need not now be discussed. That she did brighten up marvelously and manifest then and there a permanent change for the better, was a fact. And again it was Miss Winchester who was with her.

“Frank,” said Mrs. Cultus composedly, and with an air of finality, “I’ve made up my mind; I’m determined.”

“You don’t say so--good!--about what?”

“To get well, that’s the first thing. I can’t stand this being a care to others.”

“You are better, I’m sure; much better.”

“Not much as yet, but I can see it. I will be.”

Miss Winchester gave a little start. “See it? see what?” fearing lest the patient was again off at a tangent after more disasters. But Mrs. Cultus, having obtained a mental grip upon herself, would not let go, even if she still felt weak physically.

“Tell me what you see,” said Miss Winchester gently, taking her by the hand, and continuing to wave the fan she held.

“Oh, Frank! what a terrible thing it would be to be caught in such a predicament, and unprepared!”

“How, my dear?”

“I’ve been imagining all sorts of things--these Indian beds are not the best sort for me, I fear; I’ve been imagining--nonsense, of course, for us--but just think how awful it would be to lose one’s means of support! be forced to work for a living! and then not be able to succeed; I mean when the real thing does happen.”

“The world is full of cases like that.”

“Yes, I knew that before; but now I have actually felt it, just as if it were true in our own case. I was sort of luny all the time, even when my head floated off like a balloon. I thought it was serious, and I suffered as much as if it had really been true. Why, poor Adele--it would have killed me to see her in such hard circumstances. Adele would have--let me think--I’m wrong! Adele would not have----”

A strange expression came over her countenance, as if something ineffably joyous and precious was just revealed to her. She closed her eyes, and evidently was seeing the image of her daughter in a new light.

Miss Winchester kept on fanning her gently, hoping she would soon fall asleep.

But Mrs. Cultus’ spiritual discernment had been quickened; and with it came the real, true conquest over both physical weakness and mental vagaries. Her eyes opened again, they were clearer than ever; her voice had a new depth, and was certainly more sympathetic than before the fever began--it manifested the spiritually melodious quality in essence.

“What about Adele?” asked Miss Winchester tenderly.

“Oh! I love her so much! She is so much to me; I cannot tell you how much.”

“We all love her,” said Miss Winchester, innocently repeating the very words Adele had used when speaking of her mother.

“Yes, I know that, too; no one knows it better than I; but I now see something about her I never saw before so clearly.”

“Tell me what it is.”

“Frank!--a mystery! Adele _is_ prepared. She is ready for anything that may happen. None of us need ever fear for Adele, I’m sure of that; and I can see that she acts as she does because she feels prepared. I must tell you about her; it is a mystery, yet at the same time the most practical thing.”

All the positive elements in Mrs. Cultus now seemed focused on the conviction that Adele was “prepared,” as she called it, for anything, any emergency.

“She has many to look to,” said Miss Winchester, “more than most girls.”

“Yes, but I’m not thinking of that. I mean her own strength, something within herself, something I suppose all girls could have if they were like Adele. I’m beginning now to understand that--beginning to understand a little of how she acts and why she does as she does. Adele could endure and overcome adversity; she enjoys pleasure, more than any of us; she lives what she believes, and is not afraid of anything. Do you notice it, Frank, Adele is never afraid?”

Miss Winchester felt a little incredulous, but she said nothing. Mrs. Cultus continued:

“I never before so well understood Adele, although I am her mother. At times she talks like a chatterbox, but she never says anything unkind about people. Perhaps I shouldn’t say ‘never,’ for she did once give a regular scolding to a rascally brute who was abusing his horse--a dumb creature that couldn’t retaliate. Adele did speak for the dumb brute, but that was an exceptional case, and she did right to interfere.”

“She has my full approval,” remarked Miss Winchester. Mrs. Cultus continued:

“Then she is interested in all babies--would you believe it?--of any color. ‘Cherubs’ she calls them if she thinks it will stop their crying. I heard her one day call a cherub, ‘Cupid,’ and kiss him. Bless me, I saw nothing attractive in that particular child. She says she likes babies just as God made them, of any color. Now, Frank, I call that practical religion, and Adele turns from nothing; she is interested in all humanity.”

“No doubt of it,” said Miss Winchester thoughtfully, as if recalling an instance known to her personally.

Mrs. Cultus continued: “But when it comes to talkative religion, Adele is more conservative, says little or nothing--only acts naturally what she feels. And the strangest thing of all is----” and Adele’s mother paused an instant as if she ought to be careful about what she wished to say.

“What?” asked Miss Winchester, closely attentive.

“Why, she is always so sure, so perfectly sure in her own mind, as if under the influence of some invisible power--something mystical, you see, but very practical, too. I never heard her say much about it but once--you remember when she spoke to that Geyser Science woman on the Atlantic steamer?--and then she certainly did express herself like a girl much older, very precocious, to my notion. Do you know what I think, Frank?”

“No, I can’t imagine.”

“Well, Adele was talking about Christ, and she was perfectly fearless; you remember how He talked, when only a youth, to the Doctors in the Temple?”

It was difficult for Miss Winchester to accept this comparison; and seeing her hesitate, Mrs. Cultus tried to express herself in better form:

“It seems to me Adele had the same spirit, and that’s what I feel. Now you remember that Geyser Doctor, who at first appeared so placid, and talked about what she really knew so little; and then ended by exploding her ideas? Frank, I shall never forget her, or the explosion, and its effect on Adele. It was the first, last, and only time I ever saw Adele in a religious discussion, and I never expect to see her so caught again; in fact, she told me she would never indulge again, not if she knew it in time.”

Miss Winchester nodded in remembrance, and was much surprised that Mrs. Cultus should be able to display so much of her old-time vigor, when lately she was so weak. “Her spirit is stronger than ever,” thought Miss Winchester. Another pause, and then Mrs. Cultus continued:

“I shall never forget that scene, because the child talked as if she knew personally Him in whom she believed; as if the One in whom she believed was being misquoted, if not actually slandered, and all that sort of thing.”

Miss Winchester listened more attentively than ever.

“My dear, the child was right. I can see it all now. A sort of holy jealousy, because she was averse to hearing anything so misleading attributed to Him in whom she believed. Now, for a girl to feel that way means a great deal, a very great deal--it means everything. Adele was far more than interested; she felt intensely all she said. How did she do it? Why did she do it? Had the Holy Spirit spoken in her heart? Frank, that is a mystery! Nobody, I trust, can deceive me about such things, and I can see so much more than ever now, and in a new light. Now, I know God is Love, because He gave me Adele, and I try to love Him for it; and just between us, you and me, myself, it is going to be very hard for me to give her up, even to Paul.”

Miss Winchester would not have interrupted Mrs. Cultus on any account as she was thus opening her own heart freely, fearlessly. There was a beauty in these revelations fundamentally holy.

“One of the strange things,” continued Adele’s mother, “is how nothing has been changed with Adele since she became engaged to Paul; just the reverse, her feelings seem even more intense; and her love for Paul influences her for good in every way.”

Miss Winchester, not wishing to intrude in these family matters, made an effort to change the subject; but it was of no use. Mrs. Cultus was too much interested in her daughter’s future to talk of anything else; while her natural tact was too vigilant to admit of any indiscretion.

“Adele and Paul,” said she, “with all their nonsense and lovers’ pranks, get more out of their fun than any young people I ever saw. I’ve watched ’em often. Adele does not give up a thing worth seeing, and she goes into unspeakable places with her Father and Paul. They tell me not to worry about her, for she is always equal to any emergency. I wasn’t so fearless when I was a girl. But Adele is different. I shouldn’t be surprised if she did get into trouble some time.”

“Of course she may--that’s where the fun comes in,” said Miss Winchester, less serious.

Adele’s mother looked up in alarm. “What are you laughing at, Frank? Has she already been getting into scrapes?”

“Oh, no scrape, but I saw her on her dignity in a little scene at Benares.”

“What was it?”

“We were in one of the temples, and a young Brahmin approached her when she was a little distance from us and alone. He was a good-looking young fellow, and he seemed to know it. What he said I don’t know, and what she saw wrong in him I can only conjecture, but the few glances she gave him put him in a different frame of mind. He certainly changed his manner and bearing as if forced to recognize some superiority in her. One doesn’t often see that sort of thing in young Brahmins, or their elders either. Only too often that caste seems to arrogate to itself a special license to do as it pleases.”

“There! I told you she was never afraid!” exclaimed Mrs. Cultus. “Adele changed that fellow’s mind by a glance--and a Brahmin at that; overcome by the use of his own weapons. No, she is fearless. Whatever she does, she’s never afraid. Very mysterious, yet so much common sense to make it effective. It is as if--as if--oh, how shall I express what I want to say in a few words? as if--the truth had made her free.”

“Why, she must be a veritable Christian Psychologist,” said Miss Winchester, seriously.

“There is no doubt of it,” answered Adele’s mother, confidently. “Adele believes in the Greatest Psychologist that ever lived.”

No more was said, and Mrs. Cultus pondered over these things in her heart. The exertion of talking had fatigued her, in spite of the increased spiritual strength which had been born of her suffering. While looking at some flowers which Paul had brought into her room, their beauty seemed to lift her soul beyond them. Was it into the region of her own youth, or of Adele’s youth?--or more beautiful still, the realm of Perpetual Youth? Sleep came nigh.

She noticed that Paul’s flowers were buds just ready to bloom. There was among them a lily, not a lily of the valley but of the Annunciation; an Easter lily, double emblem of new life--new life here, and resurrection into the New Life of Perpetual Youth. It was the same sort of lily that she remembered seeing in a sacred picture representing an Angel’s Visit.

As Nature’s Comforter, restful slumber, closed her eyelids in blessed peace, she seemed to behold herself in the act of giving this lily to Paul. Miss Winchester heard the whispering as she dozed off:

“Take it, Paul; it is a priceless treasure. This bud in blooming will sweeten all your life. Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.”

Certainly an unexpected conclusion to be reached by the worldly-minded Mrs. Cultus; but practical, as truth itself is both mystical and practical. How different the hallucinations during illness and bodily weakness, from the spiritual experience, the visions of truth which really conquer physical weakness and rise into the Realm of Perpetual Youth!

“Verily, a double blessing she gave them,” said Miss Winchester--“youth here, youth perpetual.”

XXXI

OFF TO THE HIMALAYAS

During the convalescence of Mrs. Cultus the physicians recommended that she be taken to a more salubrious climate, a higher altitude; and suggested Darjeeling in North Bengal near the borders of Sikhim as an admirable sanitarium. Adele was delegated to suggest it to her mother. She entered the sick-room in great glee, drawing Paul in with her.

“Little Mother, we’ve all been ordered off; Paul and I have already thought of flying upwards to the Himalayas, and now we all must go.”

“What’s that you say about flying away? Who’s ordered it? I didn’t.”

“The physicians,” said Paul much amused. “We need to take the usual Oriental prescription for foreigners--Vamoose the ranchibus; get out!”

“Do Hindoos prescribe in Latin? What does it mean?”

“To be taken instantly,” said Miss Winchester, laughing, “and all take the same dose.”

“Where did you say we are to go? Up where?” persisted Mrs. Cultus, now beginning to enter into the spirit of the thing.

“To the mountains,” said Adele joyfully, “up to Sikhim.”

“Sic ’em!” and Mrs. Cultus’ eyes twinkled. “Is it a hunting scheme for Paul and the Doctor? Are there dogs up there?”

Evidently mental alertness had returned to the invalid. Adele thought so, and nodded to Paul:

“Come, boys! get your guns, and call the dogs--I mean your tickets for the trip; I’ll attend to the rest.”

Paul vanished to make arrangements for the journey.

* * * * *

Never did a more interested and hilarious party start northward towards Kunchingunga; towards the foot-hills of Sikhim, between Nepaul and Bhootan. From the crest of these foot-hills they hoped to see the Himalaya range stretching east and west, like unto a barrier insurmountable, towering aloft into thin air which no man could breathe and yet live; terra firma supporting glaciers a mile in vertical height; _terra incognita_, for no man had yet been able to tread thereon. Region of the seen, yet unseen, because unlivable to mortals as at present constituted.

No other portion of their tour gave better opportunity to bring out individual traits of character than this; for nature herself was to be met in many moods. Professor Cultus suggested that each member of the party should select a specialty for personal observation.

Miss Winchester jumped at this idea, like a reporter for a woman’s home journal. She selected the varied ejaculations of the natives; “grunts,” as she called them.

“Every race seems to grunt differently, and every idol swears differently. I suppose prayers are diverse also, but the grunts will be enough for me. We shall have hot-weather sighs, and cold-weather shivers; torrid zone lassitude and temperate zone platitude; Hindoo shuffles and Mongolian shrugs, each accompanied by its appropriate ejaculation or grunt. It is astonishing how much grunting is heard. Asia is like a Florida razor-back settlement on a large scale. I shall be kept quite busy; and no doubt myself become quite accomplished.” Miss Winchester was evidently in high feather, finding her surroundings inspiring from a literary point of view.

“The Himalayas will suit your purpose admirably,” remarked the Doctor.

“How so?”

“You may write a dialect story on your way--all grunts, and nothing else.”

Paul thought the subject of the rapid changes from one kind of vegetation to another would suit him as a specialty. “There ought to be enough variety in ferns, palms, and natural shrubbery, to say nothing of tea, quinine and poppies (opium) to excite or soothe as we require doses.” Paul was evidently hoping to obtain some plants for his Florida Garden, his winter home, between Pelican Lodge and the salt waves. There the Pelicans were omnivorous birds, not being restricted to ordinary pelican diet.

Adele said she expected to be engaged chiefly in “looking up.”

“Not guide-books, I hope?” quizzed Miss Winchester.

“Only when I lie down, to take a siesta; they will serve as a sedative.”

“Whatever you do,” said Mrs. Cultus, ever practical and worldly-wise, “be sure to jot down notes. You remember my report on Tangiers to our Politely Civil League? Memoranda came in splendidly then; I’ve just received a note of thanks for my ‘communications.’”

“You mean your ‘proceedings,’ my dear,” grunted the Professor.

Miss Winchester at once made mental note of the Professor’s mode of ejaculation, as indicative of the Occidental grunt in contradistinction to the Asiatic.

“Miss Cultus is correct,” interrupted the Doctor, champion inquisitor and note-jotter of the party. “No brain could remember, much less assimilate, all that we are going to see, without taking notes.”

At this point they were interrupted by the call to take their places in the railway carriage at Calcutta, for their first four hours by rail to Damookdea on the Ganges.

XXXII

THE START UPWARDS

En route from Calcutta, many villages were situated amid luxuriant bamboos, palms and grasses, where the Bengali cultivators of the soil worked hard for a portion of the year, and then during the heated term put in their time loafing, bathing in puddles, and raising children; some of the children looked as if so raised--in puddles. Life was known to ebb and flow spasmodically in that region, at times receding to the very verge of famine, only to return and overflow the country with abundance. Life was like a candle burning at both ends in days of plenty, to be followed by total darkness, where skeletons groped, wailing and gnashing their teeth.

The foliage was luxuriant, and of rapid growth; but not calculated to endure much strife with wind and storm. Very beautiful, however, were some of the compensations in nature: when the graceful banana leaves were blighted by the adverse forces, and fell limp, black, and apparently useless; in the very act of dying they fell over the clusters of fruit below, thus protecting their offspring after they themselves had returned to dust, in some cases cremated by the sun, ashes to ashes. Many human beings had no doubt sacrificed themselves in the same way, involving physical and nervous prostration, since Vishnu was the real preserver, and they were Vishnubs. A mysterious parallel. Altruism, to a certain degree, exists between plant life and humanity; and one often hears the natives speak of the transmigration of souls. Numerous birds of brilliant plumage flitted about, and rows of paroquets sat on the telegraph wires; as the natives said, reading and reporting the messages. Did not the monkeys show great wisdom and skill in constructing bridges of their own bodies for Krishna to escape by passing over? Surely birds must know something if monkeys were so wise. So also reasoned the natives, with variations, each man after his own kind.

Miss Winchester in time took down a number of the native ejaculations apropos of these things; and Mrs. Cultus, of course, reported all such facts to her special committee of the “Pet-Monkey Section” of the “Kindness to Animal League.”

“I did not know that Asia was so kind to animals,” said she. The Doctor laughed: “I fear it is a sort of ‘touch-me-not, taste-me-not’ kindness.” “More absurd proceedings,” thought the Professor. Adele did not laugh; on the contrary she was as usual much interested in children, and these people seemed to her to be in the childhood period of the human race. “They believe it all,” said Adele, “and so did I when I was in the nursery; my dolly always talked, and monkeys scared us both.”

The river Ganges was crossed at Damookdea, in the darkness, on the steamer “Vampire.” Torchlights upon the distant shore showed the river to be nearly a mile wide, the further sides rising to form low bluffs. A huge sand-bar lay opposite the primitive wharf, and had to be circumnavigated; which was made difficult by the strong current and the tortuous eddies whirling in many directions. They saw fishing-smacks etched against the sky, with their lights bobbing up and down; the nets were carried on enormous bamboo frames which shone against the lights like spider webs. The prows and sterns of the boats were pointed and rose high in peculiar curves. The same boats, seen afterwards in daylight, propelled by a single boatman, whose form showed against the blue waves, were quite as picturesque as the gondolas at Venice.

Then all night on the train, crossing the plains, and in the morning Silliguri, the station at the track’s end, apparently.

Paul proceeded to reconnoitre among the crowds who gathered about and under the railway sheds. There were officials, indigo planters, race-course frequenters, Anglo-Saxons and Germans, among the much more numerous dark-skinned natives.

The preponderance of white garments showed the district to be yet on the comparatively low-level, but a glance northward told a different story; woodlands rising in billows of foliage.

Paul beckoned to the party to hasten; his expression an amused interrogation point.

“The railway has shrunk; prepare to shrink, or you will not be comfortable in your new quarters;” and he escorted them to the miniature Himalaya train which stood at the end of the shed ready to ascend skyward.

Miss Winchester at once dubbed it “The Fly Express.”

Mrs. Cultus, looking over the top of one of the cars and then bending down to see inside, exclaimed: “Are we really to go up in--that thing? It’s a big toy, for little children.”

Miss Winchester at once crawled in; then peeping out like a bird in a cage: “I have already shrunk--it feels quite cozy.”

Adele did not much relish such close quarters, and asked: “Can’t we ride on top?”

Only the first-class coaches were inclosed; the second-class had low partitions; the third-class had seats in rows, open on all sides, covered overhead not unlike American trolleys in summer. The width of the train accommodated only three abreast, without any aisle; the car wheels were about eighteen inches high; the car floor, into which the wheels were set, was only a little over a foot above the ground. Sitting within, one could easily touch the ground with an umbrella. The engine appeared like a toy in dimensions, but it was very powerful; like a strong healthy boy who could successfully pull or push, but not very effective for sprinting.

“I like that engine,” said Paul, “he’s chunky, but tough; I guess we’ll get there all right.”

The luggage was carried on platform trucks, covered with tarpaulins; and this whole remarkable cortége was capable of advancing at the reckless speed of eight miles an hour.

Some French tourists at once took places in “the first,” hereby assuming the usual American prerogative to pay more and receive less than was due. Mrs. Cultus entered the same apartment, as she required protection on account of her health and some one constantly in attendance. Thus cooped up, Mrs. Cultus, Miss Winchester, and the Frenchmen, made a coterie of their own; Mrs. Cultus somewhat uneasy lest the movement of the train might deposit a Frenchman in her lap at any moment. The ladies, intensely curious, thrust their heads through the little windows, like children on an excursion; the Professor called, “Look out!”

Mrs. Cultus quickly drew in her head.

A Frenchman instantly asked, most politely in manner:

“What have you, Madame? Monsieur said, ‘Look out!’”

“But he meant just the opposite,” quoth Mrs. Cultus.

“Hein! what a diabolical language!”

Miss Winchester here made a double addition to her collection. Adele, since her mother was comfortably settled, began looking around to locate herself; she espied a place just suited to her ideas, at the rear of the train, on the last trolley truck. She and Paul perched themselves on a good square trunk, and were not visible to those in front when the Flyer showed symptoms of flying. This resulted in the Professor and Doctor Wise being greatly puzzled to know “what had become of those children.”

The whistle gave a Himalaya shriek, and the foremost coaches commenced to joggle before the “children” were discovered. In the hurry there was nothing for the dignified elders to do but to scramble on, as best they could, the same truck with Adele and Paul.

Thus this inquisitive-exploration party commenced their ascent of the famous Himalayas with a detachment of inquisitives at each end of the train. Hilarious? who could help being so on the Fly Express, rushing through the exhilarating air direct from the Himalayas, at eight miles an hour? when none would wish a moment curtailed; there was so much to be seen, sitting there on a trunk and looking in the direction of Kunchingunga!

Adele adjusted some robes taken from her strapped luggage, in an effort to make her father more comfortable. It was fortunate she had done so, for the joggle-train began a frightful series of alternate jerks and bumps. Doctor Wise described its construction as “articulated,” especially adapted to requirements of the line. When on a level each car took its own gait, the equipment loosely hung together to facilitate running around sharp curves; a comical rattling arrangement more ludicrous than agreeable, until it was stretched out in making the ascent. Adele seized Paul and her father alternately in convulsive efforts to hold on.

“I think I’d better get inside the trunk,” she gasped, when a tremendous lurch threatened to tilt over the whole combination.

It was the last lurch, however, for the train had now struck the high grade of one foot in twenty-eight, and at certain points one in twenty-two. It drew itself out to full length, the strong-boy engine sturdily dragging the apparatus after him.

From the start the lift was perceptible.

Silliguri lies at an elevation of less than five hundred feet above the sea. Ghoom Station, the summit of the line, is only thirty-six miles distant, at an elevation approximating seven thousand feet higher. That this difference should be surmounted in one short stretch of road was, in its day, a marvel of engineering skill. The Himalaya spur-hills upon the southern side are often thus abrupt, hence the topographical difficulties to be overcome by the miniature railway. The line followed the old cart-road built by the English Government some eighty years previous, crossing and recrossing, oscillating from one side to the other to gain distance. Doctor Wise could not help expressing admiration for those early engineers who had originally penetrated this region, and had located the cart-road where the native trails were little better than the trails of wild animals; and for their later brothers in the same profession whose skill had adapted rails and motive power to such peculiar conditions.

Adele said she felt herself ascending the mountain “squirrel fashion, by zigzags, and the longest way round was the shortest way up.”

The train, after a short run through the thick woods, crept out upon a knoll, and before them opened upwards a superb vista; seen through a ravine it expanded heavenward; and they caught sight of a mountain-spur jutting out against the sky, far above them in the cloud region. It was indented; they could plainly see the dent with their glasses--it looked as if a roadway might pass through. The point stood boldly out in space, with clouds beyond; the main range hidden from view, the impression conveyed was that this promontory might be near their destination.

“Can that be the summit?” exclaimed Adele; and an answer came to her in rather an interesting fashion.

While they had been joggling along, a party of civil engineers connected with the railway, waiting to take the train, had noticed a pretty girl sitting upon the rear truck, evidently in for a frolic, and at once concluded it was a good location for themselves also. They had boarded the truck, and were sitting upon the lower part quite ready for any innocents abroad, reportorial or globe trotting, when Adele noticed the railway cut far up on the mountain-side; of course they volunteered the necessary information:

“Oh, that’s only chilly Kurseong, where passengers begin to sneeze,” answered the civil engineer.

Adele, also responsive, gave an appreciative mock sneeze at once, adding she “needed a little practice after being so long down on the plains.”

“Others take tea for colds,” responded the civil engineer. “Kurseong tea is, you know, tip-top.”

“Then it is the summit?” quizzed Paul.

“No, only halfway up, when you reach that point; the real summit will appear as far aloft as that does now.”

“Oh!” said the Doctor, “then, as the Florida ‘crackers’ would say, we are just ‘two sights’ from the real summit.”

“They measure by sights there, do they?” remarked the Professor. “In Switzerland they measure by hours; and down in Calcutta I noticed Hindoos who measured time by the numbers of pipes they could smoke.”

Adele gazed in amazement. It seemed hardly credible that this lofty point, over one thousand feet higher than the famous view-point on the Gemmi Pass in the Alps, should be only halfway up, that the foot-hills of the Himalayas covered with verdure were as lofty as Mont Blanc covered with snow fields and glaciers. All the party began to realize the grand scale upon which the Himalayas are built.

“So much for low latitude and high snow-line,” remarked the Professor. “Now look out for changes in vegetation, races and costumes;” all of which soon became apparent.

These southern slopes being protected by the high range beyond, and the low latitude in which they are situated, make it possible to reproduce the vegetation of all the zones within an incredibly short distance. The Doctor remarked: “It is as if we were traveling, in the short distance of about forty miles, from Cuba to Canada.” The effect as if the earth’s surface had been tilted upwards, so that to ascend the mountain spurs was really to travel towards the Frigid Zone; and that the north-pole must be up above them instead of being in its supposed proper place, the middle of the north. This state of things, so unusual to Adele, made a vivid impression upon her as they advanced upwards.

The marshy lands and thatched houses of the type to be found on the plains, enclosed by fences of matting hung upon bamboo poles, with mud-puddles for public bathing--all these began to disappear. There were fewer clumps of tall grasses twenty feet in height with tufted heads, and of plume like pampas; the mighty bamboo, and the giant cactus ever grotesque, always on the defensive, even while bearing down vegetation mightier than itself--these were left below. Soon there were less fruits, wild mulberries, pomegranates, dates, figs, lady-finger bananas of delicious strawberry flavor. These became less and less frequent, although there were still to be seen some of the five varieties of figs and twelve varieties of bamboos. These continued with them to an elevation of one thousand feet. What they now began to admire was the profusion of roses and the luxuriant boughanvillia with rich dark-red blossoms, much richer and darker even than in Florida, more akin to that in the Bermudas, or at Hong Kong. But even these souvenirs of the South passed from view as the panorama continued to move; semi-tropical luxuriance constantly giving place to stronger growths. Wild orange, also peaches and lemons, were seen among the bananas. Banyans with pendant branch roots spreading the parent growth through the forest; cotton-wood trees built with buttress-roots, as the Doctor remembered seeing them at Nassau; and wormwood twelve feet high. Ferns in profusion, graceful as ever, some of them old friends of the Alleghanies; for the ferns are the most inveterate gad-abouts, constantly visiting poor relations in almost every zone and climate.

Here and there were now to be seen terrestrial orchids, vigorous specimens, holding their own amid the foliage of their adopted parents, pines, oaks and other hardwood trees--a curious combination. Persistent bamboos of hardier varieties still obtained; they flourished along the water courses at the foot-hills, and swept their graceful curves over adjacent knolls. Such slender growths, although tough and strong, became too attenuated to support themselves in an upright position; their immense copious fountains of foliage took not only curves of ascent like the cocoanut, palmetto, and superb talipot, but also the return curves of leafy spray ruffling the surface of the little streams.

Then there were glens and shady hollows decorated with lichens and pendulous mosses; trailing growths of verdure of countless kinds, carpets of tiny ferns--some mysterious growths of sombre reds with vitreous lustre, as well as greens so delicate that they hid themselves from the direct rays of the sun; not to mention horrible nettles and poison vines; terrors to thin-skinned visitors, but as little regarded by the natives as were the leeches in the swamps, and the pestiferous insects in the jungles. Bad plants, which the natives said had been bad people in some previous incarnation; hence had been incarnated backwards and downwards, not forwards and upwards.

Adele much appreciated these flights of fancy among the natives; they seemed so much like nursery stories when she was in the nursery herself. She was on the lookout to kodak each new scene, and at times almost in despair.

“I might as well acknowledge that the Himalayas, like Niagara, cannot be crowded into a small picture, but some of those crazy cacti I really must catch; there now is something already posing to be taken--let me catch him;” and she balanced herself on the top of the trunk to photograph a large tree festooned with vines suggesting the doleful tree decorations in some of the cemeteries at home, only more luxuriant.

“How artistically tearful! How festive-funereal!” exclaimed Miss Winchester, now with them, having changed places with the Professor who had gone to Mrs. Cultus.

“That’s where you’re a little off,” said the civil engineer quizzer. “The botanists would probably call it ‘leguminosa’--have some?”

“Thanks, awfully,” said Miss Winchester with English style and intonation. “Himalaya vegetables may prove more inviting than that one looks, but please don’t risk your precious neck to pick them off the vines.”

The English engineer said that he did not propose to die before reaching the Sanitarium, which remark seemed to strike the Doctor as “not bad, for a colonial living in a warm climate.” So Adele settled the matter by kodaking the whole party overshadowed by the artistically-tearful funereal-festive vegetable-vine.

Near this locality the track indulged in numerous twists and turns, squirming like a huge snake encircling the mountain spur. The train slid out to the verge of a precipice, and then backed off, just before the crash came.

“What a narrow escape!” exclaimed Mrs. Cultus, “I felt as if well shaken, and was about to be taken. I hope to goodness they won’t do it again”--but they did.

They were now rounding a projecting knoll, before passing through a short cut; they then crept under a bridge which, curious to relate, they crossed over hardly a minute later. These engineering gymnastics were utterly preposterous to our explorers.

“Has the train lost its way?” laughed Adele. “Where are we? What next?”

“If I don’t fly off like a bird,” said Miss Winchester, “I expect to enter the bowels of the earth and be a gnome; that will surely be my next incarnation.”

“I prefer the bird,” remarked Adele.

“Which? parrot or peacock? India’s choice. Considering altitude and climate, I think a gnome will suit me. What will you be, Paul?”

“Oh, leave things as they are.”

“But you’ve got to be something if in India,” persisted Miss Winchester.

“Rats!” exclaimed Paul, “as lief as anything else--what nonsense you are talking!”

“There’s method in this railway madness,” suggested the civil engineer; and he showed them some rough sketches he had hurriedly made illustrating the series of loops and zigzags the line had followed between Tindharia and Gumti. “How is that for horseshoe curves, mule-shoes, and other adaptations to the requirements of the road--‘feats of engineering’ we call them.” The Englishman was trying to be facetious.

The lines he had drawn were curious. Paul said they reminded him of the marks left upon the surface of ice by an expert-fancy skater. Miss Winchester said she could use them for an embroidery pattern, the art of embroidery being one of her favorite occupations. The Doctor said they reminded him of a fly travelling over an orange to find out what it was like. Adele said they reminded her of exactly what they represented, only now she had a bird’s-eye view looking down on the whole thing. “I understand it now, but until I saw this drawing I did feel all twisted up.” Curious, indeed, was the association of ideas, each traveller finding suggested by the engineer’s drawing his own tastes, or the memory of some previous experience.

Still higher up, say between four and six thousand feet, the Americans felt really quite at home in the woods; no matter what part of the Middle or Northern States they might have come from there were glimpses to remind them of home; not unlike the loftier parts of the Alleghany range as seen from Blowing Rock, or Cloudland in the Land of the Sky (North and South Carolina), also glimpses suggesting the magnificent distant scenery of Colorado, and even of the Northwest Rockies; but in every case with much greater luxuriance of foliage, and a realizing sense that they were only on the foot-hills, the first steps leading to the Celestial region, still away up and beyond.

Adele searched in her pocket and brought forth her little Stars-and-Stripes badge, and pinned it on her left shoulder. It took very little to make Adele show her colors, and just here where the woods were full of oaks, hemlocks, maples and many other trees which reminded her of home, she concluded this was the proper time to bring out the pocket edition of Old Glory.

The Englishman wondered why she selected that particular time to do such a thing; it seemed such a superfluous proceeding. He would have scorned the idea if he had known that she associated oaks with America in particular. As it was he could not suppress his curiosity.

“May I ask why you show your colors?”

“Because here I feel quite at home.”

“Oh, you Americans think the States take in all creation, don’t you?”

“Well, pretty much; but this is the Queen’s Empire--we admire the Queen immensely, she’s a home-body; and personally I quite envy her.”

“No doubt she would appreciate your appreciation,” remarked the Englishman, again touching the facetious. “May I ask why you envy her?”

“We are going into the expansion business ourselves: the Queen knows all about it.”

“Once you are in, you’ll wish you were out.”

“You made a success; why shouldn’t we? Of course we’ll add some improvements.”

The Englishman laughed heartily. “What do you call success?”

“Making people feel at home,” said Adele.

“And the improvements--some new ’ism or religion, I suppose?”

“Every man to his own religion,” said Adele; “it’s the same as with one’s own home. Religion ought to suit one’s nature as your home suits your life.”

“These people have a great variety of religion,” remarked the Englishman.

“There seems to be no lack,” said Adele, “but really I don’t know yet. I can’t say that I have really worshiped with them, according to their ritual here in their own homes.”

“Well, I wish you joy, but really I don’t understand fully yet as to your idea of home here. I don’t feel at home; we all go back to our homes--Merry England.”

“That’s not what I mean,” said Adele; “this region is the most extraordinary home-country I ever saw, even more so than our own mixed-up country, and that’s saying a great deal.”

“I don’t understand yet,” said the Briton.

“Why, it’s this way, I feel perfectly at home in these woods; the Hindoos were just as much at home a few miles back; the place seems to suit all sorts and conditions of different civilizations, not one civilization only; and the Queen lets them live at home here in peace.”

“They fight like cats and dogs,” said the engineer promptly. “We have the devil’s own time to keep the home, as you call it, quiet.”

“It must be the children that cut up so,” laughed Adele. “Every home is supposed to have its nursery--the world no doubt has; people often call Asia the cradle of the human race. This seems to me to be like God’s nursery.”

“And England’s the nurse!” shouted the Briton.

“Yes, that’s about it.”

“Well, here comes another baby, fresh from the woods, to be taken into the nursery. What do you think of this precious babe? I hand her over to you.”

What Adele saw for the first time was a large, stout Mongolian woman, broad-visaged with slanting eyes, very dirty and unkempt, accompanied by two men of similar mien, neither of whom appeared so masculine as the precious babe herself. These had wandered down from the upper regions--the first glimpse to Adele of the next race they were to encounter.

“Babes in the woods,” remarked the Englishman.

Adele concluded not to call this one a cherub.

XXXIII

A GLIMPSE OF THE PRIMITIVE

The miniature Fly Express having crept over the summit now slid down on the other side for a few miles, into Darjeeling. The mountain resort, though upon such high ground, was surrounded by still loftier elevations; a veritable Sanitorium protected on all sides. It contained more buildings of a public nature than the inquisitive Cultus explorers had expected to find; the Sanitorium and bazaar were surrounded by many substantially built structures, generally upon picturesque sites, schools, a convent, villas, bungalows, and here and there native shanties in unexpected nooks and corners. There were valleys within valleys, and hills upon hills; and domiciles were scattered broadcast over the landscape. No time was consumed, however, in gazing around them when they first arrived. The station and bazaar nearby were lively with Nepaulese, Bhootans, Lepchas, members of the hill tribes of Sikhim, inhabitants of the Darjeeling Terai, with a much smaller contingent of English who seemed to be there to keep the rest in order.

The tiny train had hardly come to a stand-still before a Bhootan woman, a fine specimen physically and decidedly noisy in manner, thrust her broad Mongolian visage, with its high cheek bones and slanting eyes, into the little car window where sat Mrs. Cultus. If a demon had suddenly appeared at close quarters and offered to rub noses with Mrs. C. the effect could not have been more startling. The Mongolian, talking and gesticulating and holding a strap in her hand, made it plain to them that she wished to carry their luggage--she was a woman-porter.

Mrs. Cultus, not ordinarily disconcerted by sudden apparitions, was this time fairly taken aback. Aside from the novelty of a woman-porter, her repulsive appearance was disconcerting; the broad cheeks smeared with red pigment and distorted with grimaces seemed to Mrs. Cultus at first glance as more than grotesque, even appalling. Drawing herself up with dignity she gave a piercing look, as if in defiance, only to discover that the Bhootanesque wild grin was intended for a polite smile, and the smile was that of a young girl trying to be serviceable and obliging. Mrs. Cultus burst out laughing, which the Bhootan girl of course mistook for a cordial acceptance of her offered assistance; and forthwith through the window she seized all such loose articles as lay within reach, piling them in a heap on the platform previous to depositing them in her strap which she placed over her forehead and let fall in a loop down her back. Several articles had already disappeared out of the window before Mrs. Cultus grasped the misunderstanding of her own laughter; but when she found the woman was actually doing the heavy work of a porter, and for her personally, Mrs. Cultus’ American ideas about woman’s sphere and woman’s work asserted themselves. As a member of the Ethical-Social Culturist’s-Reversal Association, she must become an impromptu missionary to enter her protest, and even set things right.

“I can’t allow it!” she exclaimed, shaking her head. “Get me a man! a man! why, it’s outrageous! You’re only a young girl!” and Mrs. Cultus turned to look for the Professor who had already gone in search of a man.

The Bhootan damsel grinned once more, as if astonished, then spoke her mind not unlike the historic waiter who “roared it.” “No man!--don’t want a man! I take! I take all! easy!” and proceeded to show how easily she could take all by lifting a huge bundle of travelling rugs, rezais, nearly as bulky as herself, putting them in the loop of her strap as foundation piece, the smaller heavy things on top, and gave a good grunt of satisfaction when the weight settled on her forehead; and then--smiled again.

Mrs. Cultus, equally practical, at once changed her mind; she concluded it was utterly useless to waste sympathy upon a damsel so eminently qualified to take care of herself; especially since the woman-porter had her own ideas of woman’s sphere, and did not intend to permit any man to take away her trade. If Miss Winchester had been near at the time no doubt she would have been much impressed by the Bhootan grunt of satisfaction for the privilege of carrying luggage; for verily it was a notable addition to her collection.

Such was Mrs. Cultus’ first interview with a specimen of womankind from the immense area of Central Asia, where woman’s rights were already granted after their fashion, and woman’s work performed with a vengeance. Mrs. Cultus little realized that there, in the crowd around her, were not only women-porters, but Thibetan mothers to whom polyandry was no new thing, being in fact a custom of their district. Women who had several husbands because they were the proper things to have; and felt themselves quite equal to do man’s work and a little more, besides. Mrs. Cultus learned this and other items, when a few days later she noticed a pair of rough sandal-boots standing at the door of a hut occupied by a polyandrist household. She was informed that these were equivalent to a notice left outside by one of the husbands that he was on the premises, therefore for the present the others had best keep away. Mrs. Cultus learned, too, that the several husbands were often brothers, hence the household was a more united family than if it were otherwise. Mrs. Cultus was obtaining a realizing sense of relationships among some of the primitives yet upon the earth, and she soon concluded that the more primitive the people the less she personally cared to visit them socially.

XXXIV

ADELE SEES THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS

“_On the mountains is freedom! The breath of decay
Never sullies the fresh-flowing air._”

--SCHILLER.

The next day the whole party were domiciled in a little stone structure one-story high, hung like an eyrie upon a cliff. The site overlooked great depths, and their domicile much like a tiny doll’s house perched upon a mantelpiece. Above and beyond were insurmountable heights, and only a narrow pony-path separated this little dwelling from the forest-clad valleys thousands of feet below. Within a few steps a remarkable view-point, a promontory jutting out in mid-air; and before them rose “The Five Points of Eternal Snow.”

Kunchingunga was no “Jungfrau,” but a matron, with her children and grandchildren clustered around her imperial throne.