WHO IS HE? OR The Indian Mahatma in Australia.

Golden Bay Argus, Volume 4, Issue 35, 25 January 1895, Page 3

WHO IS HE? OR The Indian Mahatma in Australia.

COrVKIOHT. J

AN AUSTRALIAN STORY t OF THE Natural & Supernatural, BY KENNETH HAMILTON M.D., F.R.C.S. CHAPTER XXX.— (Continued.) “ ’Tis deatli, ’tis death,” I thought in some dim, half-conscious way ; “ he has brought mb her to die;” when to my utter bewildcrinont I was mounting and mounting out of the darkness into the most wonderful light, anil, stranger still, the light was everywhere all around me, over, beneath—it came from nowhere, and yet from everywhere, and still I mounted in this wonderful way. Presently I was conscious that I was gloriously young and full of the most exuberant, joyous, overflowing life—a perfection of life—not at all to be described to anyone in earth language svho hifS only known earth life. This life was so full that I was lost in the enjoyment of my own strength and joy, earth and its cares, its belongings had for a time passed away. I had done with sorrow, with feebleness, with pain. As I gazed around I suddenly became conscious that the light was assuming a huo that was golden, and yet rosy (I am at a loss how to describe so unearthly a thing), and that it seemed radiating in waves and soft flashes from one point to which I was tending, how I know n«t. In a short space —how long or how short I cannot tell, for there in that land is no time ror.orcl, and all is done with the thought of the cloer—then I pdreeivod two figures moving also towards me—how grand, how noble, how supremely tender and gentle that face ! Suroly I had seen it—oh! joy of joys and wonder of wonders, it was “ the Master.” [ cried aloud, and, covering my face, I bent to touch the hem of his glittering robe. How ;an I teH the exceeding whiteness of it! [t glistened with celestial light, girded about with a golden girdle and gold band on tho ucck. I raised it to my face, crying: “Oh, my Master, I have found Thee! Is this death?—then, indeed, death is glori--sus.” A gentle touch on my head: “Stand, beloved, this is not death but a vision; thou art in tho realms of light ; around thee are the homes of light. Thy mother would speak with thee, but be thou 3troug. Return, thy work awaits tliee ; many high and great spirits will be always with ttiee in thy earth-life and will bring thee home at last. Tliy home is being made ready. Purify thy soul ; suffer and be strong; to thee are given gifts to use. Presently thou wilt return to earth and thy work.” Then addressing one who stood beside me : “ Show tho beloved child what she desires—all that she is strong enough to bear.” The soft touch was removed, tho soft voico ceased, and the “ Master ” had gone; when I hearc.: Alice, I can take thee to my homefbr • a space. Thy father has not yet come ; ho and thy brother are my care ; I comfort one and try to warn the other, but what will be, will bo. Inthohomes of this life they will learn what is required of them by the great ‘Master.’ My daughter, you know when I am sent to you; you can see, and hear, and answer me in your earth homo. Now, come hither While my mother spoke she had led mo onward ; the light was still nil round us, but tho living blaze of penetrating, soft brightness we had left behind. “ That always indicates tho place where He is,” iny mother said, softly. I turned to look at her; there, indeed, was my mother; .but where were tho grey hairs, the thin, white face, the bent form ? Gone—gone—for in the homes of light all is life and youth and joy. With her soft eyes on mine, her hair in glorious flowing waves over her shoulder, her rolo of shining white clothing, her upright young figure—how strange, yet how well I know my sweet mother; this girdle, indicating 1 one of blue, shows that I belong to that order of women spirits who are in especial charge over some earth-soul wandering in darkness—that is the saddest thing we have to bear when we see those whom wo love so intensely turn to do evil and put aside with careless impatienco tho advice which a good spirit socks to impress upon their souls. But even for that, my ohild, there is a hope—they suffer as all souls must who do wrong, but gradually the sense of the wrong boconus unbearable ; at such a moment the good spirit who is ever watching for this comes forward and eagerly leads the loved and longing ones to a higher piano.” So my sweet mother taught mo of her heavenly wisdom, and showed me the sphoro of the workers. How restful, how lovely—limpid rivers, shady groves, and the lovely homes groupod together everywhere, where after a long period of earth work the messengers return to rest or to learn anew tho commands of the Master. Soon I perceived a glory of light streaming in one direction. “Yes,” said my mother, perceiving tho thoughts I feared to utter, “ that is one of those electrical paths which are interlaced through space. Wo use them to travel to earth, to other worlds, and to the different spheres. No one is idle in the many mansions ; all have some work to do, some command to. fulfil, some unfulfilled earth-work of their own to complete and perfoct, or sometiling to learn to fit them for higher and future work which is being prepared for them by the Master. But oh, my child, all this isjto fit each soul ultimately for tho awful and intense glory of the inner home, the temple where the great Creator dwells; where the archangels and highest order of * spirits made perfect ’ minister in tho highest manner of which we cannot even think or guess. Of Him wo always speak with hushed voices md covered faces;” and I saw sho had wrapped her shining hair over her face, handing in an attitude of adoration. Countless the homes we saw, where all the little ill-used, deformed and murdered children of jarth’s cruel mothers were met by tho spirit mothers and. nurtured, honied and loved for the Lord, who gathered them in his arms on jarth, was ever and again to be seen with them agai n in His arms and crowding around Him in this many mansioned oity, where all their cruel eenth days were forgotten or only remembered when they had grown to spiritual maturity, and in their turn desired to minister to the sad ones of the ‘ sorrowful star,’ as t found they all called the earth-home where l dwelt. At last my mother turned. “Child, return; the time for you to reenter your body has arrived, and bear with thee the remembrance of the Master’s hand, and voico, and His words, “return to thy work.’ Know also how oternal is the love of thy spirit friends—how strong their desire to uphold thy soul; but their power depends on thy wish for that power to bo exercised. Sweetest, farewell for a little,” nud, kissing my hair, and cheeks, and lips, my mother wound li9r arms round mo, and we iLwtfld floated till I slept, and, awakening

with a sutuc, l.iuntl the Hindoo bending ever

“ ’Tis well, child nf earth ; drink this, thy trance hath been long ; of what thou kiwwest keep to thyself ; this fluid gives tliee renewed vigor. I will take thee home for three days have elapsed since the angels called thee.” He raised me to my feet, and, full of mv new spiritual knowledge, I felt too raised above all the pettiness of the earth-worry and care to answer, but followed silently to tbc door of my home. “ Farewell, mndame. One other thing I can tell -tliee George Barton is dead. He went straight after his second interview with you, and the great sea has east him lip on. the rocky shore. To-morriw Akarou will find and bury him ; all court business will be stayed. Go quickly to Auckland with Dr Clarke, who will come to you when lio hears of Barton to-morrow, and for the sake of his child marry Kenneth Hamilton; remain away for a year, and return to a peaceful life.”

“ Halim, ray brother, my father—do you know aught of them?” “So the spirit mother has told thee they dwell still on the earth. No, how should I know. Be content; time reveals all secrets ; this, too, in the fullness of time will be told to thee, how or by whom it matters not. Forget not to do good, fair one, for thy kindness to a wounded old stranger has proved a blessing to thee who are also loved and guarded of the high ones. Farewell. Halim hath spoken.” A sweeping salute and my Hindoo guide had gone, and I was alone. Entering I made my way to my chamber, where, flinging up the window, the evening air played round my brow while I thought with a holy joy on the wonderful vision vouchsafed to me, and felt fully a gracious and lieaven-bom joy and strength ; so that even the startling and welcome news of Halim scarcely ruffled the exalted and ecstatic state of my soul. However, on the earth the things of earth must be attended to, and, ringing for Lettioe, I saw her enter and gaze with wonder at me—“ I came back quietly, Lettico; bring me some 'tea for I need rest. A journey lies before me, and you must go with me, my good old nurse. I will tell you the particulars tomorrow night; meanwhile let mo rest, and prepare for a long absence as quickly as you mav.”

“Oli, Miss Alice dear, you look glorified somehow and so like your dear mother before she married the old colonel; but I’ll do your bidding, as I always did, my dearie.” Of these things I could not speak, not even to Kenneth, for months, for, needless to say, I followed the old Hindoo’s commands, or rather advice, and my darling and J' met in Auckland to part no more till the portals open for one of us, ivlion I am sure tho other will not linger behind. My lovely fairy Felicia was born soon after, and of all the sunshiny, glad little mortals she is tho merriest and happiest—the apple of her father’s eye and the gem of our home —while my noble Geoffrey completes a family group the most devoted, the most perfect to be found in the southern hemisphere, for our bitter sorrow passed before any public scandal had tarnished the fair name of the woman my Kenneth loved ; and in joy and thankfulness, on one of the most romantic and fairest spots of the west coast of Tasmania, my Felicia saw tho light, and from that day to this our love for each other and our joy in the companionship of the children but deepens as the years roll on, for- in tho summer evenings and round the winter fires, we think and talk of the glorious home and commune in silence with those who are permitted to become our guides nd guardian angels. CHAPTER XXXI THE mahatma’s ItEVENGE. Away amongst the wilds of Tasmania where even the squatter’s wandering' cattle rarely reach, and where the tiger and the devil live undisturbed by the foot of man, except ho bo some way-worn prospector who has pushed his tanglod road through the awful density of the scrub, will bo found spots of unrivalled beauty as well as those of a sublimity bordering on the terrible. For the extent of the island there is nothing on earth to approach its picturesque beauty. And its mineral resources are wonderful. One gentleman used to leavo his homo in civilisation and wander for months in its awful bush. For days he would hardly catch a glimpso of tho sun ; for days and weeks lie had hardly onoug'h to eat to keep starvation away. But in tho bla-ck and gloomy caverns of tho foret-t, with famine behind him and a lonely death possible before him, with a thousand unknown dangers on every side, the man persevered and he had his reward in tho honor of his fellow-citizens, and —even greater reward—in the proud satisfaction of having done well for his adopted country and being enrolled on its records of famo. We can follow the ardent explorer in imagination through the trackless gloom—a gloom that seemed itself an entity. We can stay for a moment at his side while he searches the banks of tho. creek buried under the foliage of countless tree-ferns, and wo can for a moment rejoice with him, when, having carried the “ prospect ” for three days, to find a ray of light strong enough to burst through the interlacod boughs and reach the earth ; the earth to him opened up its treasure, and “ Bisehoff ” was bom. How is it Tasmania has not honored its greatest pioneer by naming one of tho greatest land-marks after the name of James Smith? Surely he doserves it, and although his modesty is his most striking characteristic, like Palinurus he “ might rejoice in the land called after his name, yaudet cognominie terra." Who better deserves the glory ? Far beyond Bisehoff in regions unexplored by oven James Smith, there might have been seen a little hut perched on an eminence overhanging a rushing, roaring creek, which hurled itsolf from a steep mountain-side and tore through, or ratker ravine, in headlong fury. After each rainfall tho creek roared, and boiled, and fumed over the huge boulders which impeded its course and made it fret and bluster with potent madness. On a small terrace of the hill the little hut has been built of the thick branches of the tall guxns joined together in rude haste. Outside, and squatted in primitive style on tho naked ground, were some specimens of a dead and gone race. When Cook touched at Van Dicman’s Land, the island seemed to bo teeming with population—alas, as soon as the barbarian eame into contact with civilization his doom was sealed, and quickly the world knew him no more. The world know little of these specimens of a defunct race. They knew that the white-man had tom from them the lands of their fathers ; that the sheep and cattle of their conquerors browsed where the kangaroo which fed them had formerly pastured, and they hated the squatter and all hi« people, and no wonder. They could not avenge themseves on tho whole of the whitemen, but whenever a stray wanderer fell into their hands they treated him as if in his person the whole of the hated people was concentrated, and death was his only release. \ A poor old white-inan was now hu idled up in misery lying on some branches in the hut. He looked on tho point of death—the feoblo lamp was giving forth its last flicker, and he was not only content with but glad of release. Years of hopeless misery had taken from him almost the very appearance of a man, and he lay there with clouded intellect and eoddenod mind to meet his death as the brute meets its dissolution. A man entered the hut, and isft a few momenta regarded tho spectacle of misery without a spark of pity. “ Wallace. wako up!” he said

The poor object on the floor seemed to «•»«/•* to th« s'pi’vk' i', but the effort was too great ioi his impaired bodily powers. “Bah!” «tid the new arrival, “ I shall have to touch it;” and, with disgust, he opened tho mouth of the dying man and poured out ou the tongue a few carefully measured drops from a small phial. The effect was instantaneous. Wallace, for it was he, leaped to his feet with nl! the vigor of his prime manhood. He looked around him and down upon tho tattered rags, which formed his only clothing. The fierce and indomitable spirit af t'u* Britt h soldier and gentleman blazed out for a moment. “How am I hero?” he cried. “Because, Lieutenant-Colonel Wallace, I have brought you liero.” “ You—you brought me here,” and the soldier laughed loud and long. “ You brought mo here—and pray who aro you who brought me, Andrew Wallace, to this place ? I have seen you before somewhere, I think, in years gone by,'’ and he stared into the face of the man before him. “ Yes ; you saw me at Darilly, where you lashed me—a princo and the descendant of princes—with your whip ; you saw mo at Jurnnoon, where you blew my brother in pieces from your cannon’s mouth ; you saw me at Jarva, where your soldiers slaughtered the wives and children of my uncle ; you saw me at Arnot, where you killed my son with your own hand. Yes, Andrew Wallace, you have seen me often. I could not prevent what was fated, and revenge also was fated. My revenge is here, it is in Melbourne, it was in New Zealand, and has been everywhere. Look around you and see what you, the allpowerful English Sahib, the wealthy landowner, the feared inastor, have como to. Look at your palace, man, of gum-boughs, your bod of leaves, and your companions, tho very lowest savages of earth ! That is revenge. Listen ; your son has again disgraced the name of Wallace and dragged it through the mire of the streets. He disgraced it before, but he was young then and might he pardoned on the grounds of youthful indiscretion. Now, as a man, ho has disgraced himself. He sleeps in a suicide’s grave, and lias been followed to tho grave by tho execration of tho widow and orphan whom ho led to ruin. That is tho penalty of your crimes paid in the second generation. Your daughter also has been found to be the wife of two men. Where is the spotless scutcheon now, Wallace? Where is the stainless name? And count it all your own work. It is to you everything points back. Have you nothing to say ?” Wallace, after looking at tho man, had staggered back against tho crazy wall of tlio hut. ‘ 1 You devil! ”he hoarsely whispered. ‘ l l have known you in iny dreams. You have done this ? and I pay tho penalty to which I bow.” “ Done it —certainly I have done it! Look out; you will see nothing but a savage waste —an untrodden wilderness. No one will soo you die —no one will lament you or drop a tear on your bier. You will simply drop out of existence, and this is not your greatest woe. You dare not, man, face tho world again, even if I supplied you with wlr-sfc would rostoro your worn-out faculties. Andrew Wallace is a disgraced man, and I, Nana Sahib, say it.” “Nana Sahib!” For a moment the Englishman stared with the horror of bewilderment. Tho name conjured up all the past in India, and brought tlio soldier back out of the mists. His own misfortunes were nothing now. “Nana Sahib !” he cried. “ Then, by the living God, you will never leave these hands alive!” So saying he threw himself with the last spark of his expiring life on the Indian. The feeble hand caught tho throat of the hated foe ; the long and emaciated fingers crooked around tho nervous and sinewy neck. ‘ ‘ I have you 1 I have you, and will carry you to hell with me!” But tho effort was vain. Halim Haiti smiled when he found tho poor old man’s hands on his throat. “Peace, fool, and gol” Wallace’s fingers relaxed their feeble grip, the body swayed up against tlio strong frame of the Indian, who pushed it rudely from him, and it sank in a formless heap amongst tho branches of tho wretched bod. Nana Sahib regarded it for a moment with a scowling look. Then, with a gesture of disdain, ho turned away from tho lifeless body of his foe who, even in death, he hated with tho intensity of his whole raco. “That is finished !” was all his comment. CHAPTER XXX.II. NOTE BY JOSEPH FRISSELLE, H.M.8.1.0.5., MAGISTKATE OF THE DISTEIOT OF FEENTZEBAD, BENGAL. I havo read this paper and placed it amongst other important documents with tho hope that time will do something towards elucidating the mystery. I havo sent copies to Melbourne and Dunedin, requesting information ns to some of tho circumstances alleged to havo taken place, and shall wait with very great anxiety replies to iny communication. I have also laid tho case beforo tho Council at Calcutta, and havo every reason to believe that inquiries will bo made in London as to tho possibility or probability of soino of tho facts said to have occurred in England. I confess I am myself entirely beaten in the matter. The whole course of a European’s experience is so’widely alien to that of tho Oriental that I hesitato to offer an opinion. I have myself seen such extraordinary manifestations that I can fix no limit to possibilities in tho diroetion of the wonderful. When we consider that those people havo been studying the secrets of nature for ages beforo natural science was even known in tlio west, that this knowledge, acquired by the strongest mental effort, has boen transmitted for centuries from father to son, and that oach generation has added to tho accumulation of past experience, wo cannot hope to fathom with our very short plumb-lino tho depths that have been readied. Bosides, our investigations havo been cramped by tho fetters placed on European intellect by Aristottle and his disciples for centurios. Our religion, too, by blocking out the whole system of humanity as on a chart stopped, or rather checked, all attempts at invading the arcana of nature at tho very first instance, and very noon put an end to any over-daring explorer of her mysteries. I have, however, seen a man omerge alive from a tomb in which he had been hermetically soalod for four months with every precaution taken to provent deception. We also know thait even at the time of Herodotus there were things known both in India and Egypt which were then clearly beyond the experience of men in general, and have nemained beyond that exporionce up to tho present. Secrets Bueh as these are known to comparatively few men in India, and those of tho very highest castes. It is pretty generally acknowledged now that the Indians of tho highest castes can claim tho same origin as tine most intellectual races of tho West, and with all that intellectual vigor which has made Europo what it is; they havo never had to submit to any restriction on its complete development. With their intellectual progress, however, their pride kopt pace, and tka result was stagnation. Yet, what was acquired long ago has boon held fast and jealousy. Wo (limply know nothing of these stores 6f knowledge which are guarded religiously and with supreme contempt of all •who hare not been admitted to thoir treasures.- -'To BK CONTINUED.} W. H. 18