An Eastern Beggar

Dominion, Volume 28, Issue 58, 1 December 1934, Page 23

An Eastern Beggar

MUSTAPH AND HIS FRIEND RINI (Written by Barbara Silver, Scatoun.) . Bini, the little mongrel friend and companion of the blind. beggar, Mustaph, was dead. Mustaph had cried like a chi oi l Taphi, the village gatekeeper, had told him when he was seaichiu o i \lo- "The village dogs,” he said, “were tearing a dog to pieces. • ••■*■ R c it was your dog” for n’was brown and small, ami limped. The <logs-the ■ire "ett'ing like wolves now,” he went on, "for they are starving, too. Ai d the people of the village will be eating them if relief does not come quickl . and he hurried past. All the villages of the plains were suffering from‘ <liou» and famine, and all of their talking, all of their hoping of l £ licf did not come. But Mustaph’s only friend was dead—and lie Liawled• to the shade of a thirsting, dying tree to weep-and to remember Slowly Ins aches and the gnawing hunger in him ceased, as he saw himself w .c bad It was evening, and had been raining. He wuts late in village, and his old eyes, nearly blind, could not see in tll « ll " 1E 11 7^° 1 t it ’ stars; He remembered how terrified he had been when he hadl he a. d something folding him! Ho would stop to listen every few s eps I bu lit would Stop, too, and the silence was awful. Clien he would walk , aga and it would come—loppity-lop-lop—uneven, Lone run. and the blood was drumming in his ears shakinghis whole bo- ; before he reached the village he was so «bausted feai that 1 ‘° 0 " 11 ' ( , forced to down on the road to locking Ininseif o c , waited for the ghost or strange being he had imagined to pounce on Nothing happened for some time—an agonising length of time to pooro• d Mustaph Then it came—but softly, quietly—something damp and w.urn brushing the hands Mustaph was covering his face witji—suddenly Mu-tap kne He grabbed the little beast and held him near to his peering eyes so « thai he could just make the outline of a small, brown dog. with one/ ciumpled. l ime leg And because of his relief, Mustaph hugged him—and kept him Through all his wanderings Mustaph, the beggar, had kept <Jog con mnion and Rini though he fed only on the scraps that‘the village dm, loft paid well for Mustaph’s friendship, and became the old man s sight. Never P yet had he led him astray, and the old man, soon blind, depended on him as J he would on a youth’s eyes, always listening for the uneven loppity 10P And^'now—he was gone, just dead. But Mustaph sat up and There was a strange humming of many voices from the ullage, and the' sharp bark of a dog coming nearer and nearer-Rini’s bark when he was excited andl searching for his master. Old blind Mustaph sat up, m heart throbbin” wildlv. His quick hearing caught the sound befoie the animal reached him—the loppity-lop-lop of little, uneven feet He clasped the •minrii in an ecstasy of joyous relief, rtjid Rini yelped excitedly. . “’Twas not your cur, then?” said the slightly sneering voice m the gatekeeper above the' two. “A caravan' is coming over the plain with food, and the people are rejoicing,” he said, and went to join them. But Mustaph scarcely heeded him. “Rini Rini.” was «mi ering toms u”lv dirtv. faithful little dog, “you are not to die—not yet little one time’'is not come yet—for we must, die together, friend. And he wept, foolish, tired, old man's tears, while the caravan tin .. bringing relief to the starving, thirsting villagers of the plains drew ncai.a