The Storyteller.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXVIII, Issue 42, 18 October 1900, Page 23

The Storyteller.

THE WARD BOY.

' Required, a ward boy for a newly-erected hospital. Apply for particulars to .'

The advertisement was read out of one of the local papers by a friend, Vishnu Bulwunt listening attentively. He was a thin, lanky, looop-limhpH boy about Is years of age, and in the usual native costume of the ' dhoti,' or waistcoat, and a close cut jacket ; bis head was destitute of hair «aye for a little tuft at the top. surmounted by a email red cap.

' Wah ji ! I wonder if they would take me if 1 applied .' ' he said, eagerly.

' You !' — his companion looked at him with amazement — ' a Brahmin, demean yourself by such employment. What are you thinking of ? You will lose caste forever.'

Vishnu spread out his palms with deprecatory gesture. ' What matter,' he said ; ' who can it affect but myself, and to one without sons what can anything matter in this world .' If I die who will perform the sacred ceremonies necessary to rescue my boul from hell ? Besides, lam a poor man and cannot live without bread ; " hat," if they pay me well I will take the place.' ' A Brahmin is a mighty god,' said his companion. ' I tell you,' answered Vishnu, impatiently, ' I am poor, poor, and if I cannot earn something my family and I will die of hunger in these bad times.'

1 What must be, must,' assented the other, at last persuaded of the futility of argument and with the usual Oriental indifference.

' I am applying for an appointment myself,' he continued presently, producing a sheet of paper. ' Listen to this— what do you think of my letter I It was written for me by the writer in the Suddha Bazaar. Listen.' He read slowly, translating word by word ; the original, in English, lan as follows :—: —

' Please will you let me know if you have any vacancies ? Allow me to inform you that I am offering my services in spite of the bubonic plague. I am plain, honest, and simple hearted, and will take the greatest pleasure in obliging you, and, being no new hand in any position, you will shortly find you have no chance of dismissing me.'

• Shabash ! ' said Vishnu, admiringly. ' That is indeed a clever letter, and will assuredly obtain a reward ; for myself, I ana not frightened either, and I shall apply for the place to-night.' When a few hours later Vishnu Kulwunt, redolent of oil and brushed from head to foot, stood before the doctor of the plague hospital, he was met with exnetly the same queries as those "his friend had put to him in the morning. For a Brahmin to apply for such menial employment was extremely unusual, but he accounted for this, as before, as more or less obligatory by reason of poverty. The question of danger from nursing plague patients he waved aside with the same reply : 'I am poor, and the poor man cannot choose his lot,' he said epigrammatic-ally. • Though I have never done such work before, yet I have several times been ill in hospital, and have seen how other ward boys do, 1 he added anxiously, fearing lest the qualification should not be deemed sufficient. The wages offered were high, and diverted his thoughts from all else. After a few more inquiries the doctor satisfied himself that the boy would suit (,it was not easy to get any volunteers for such service), and it was accordingly arranged for him to commence his duties.

The hospital had been opened a short time previously by a large public body for the use of any employees who might be attacked with the bubonic plague, then raging in their midst. It was a long. low, mud-and-thatch building, erected on a piece of reclamation ground some two miles up the harbor, the waters of which lay tpread before it. Far across on the further side could be seen the hills of the Kolaba coast, blue green in the distance by the day, where the fierce glare of the sun was on them ; soft pink and gray in the misty evening light. Immediat< ly behind the hospital, to which it formed a background, rose a plateau fringed with cocoanut palms, showing in clear, dark outline against the sky. Their roots in places overhung the semicircular hollow caused by recent excavation, the crimson soil of which, especially with the glow ot sunset retting on it, presented the appearance of a still gaping, bleeding wound inflicted on Nature by the wanton hand ot man. Great boulders of purple rock lay scattered around, adding to the wild picturatquenesa of the spot,— it was very silent and sequestered, hidden more or less from sights and sounds of the outride world, and approached by a beaten track which wound round the foot ot the ridge. Inside the hospital was arranged a row oi low iron bedsteads ; those formed the sole furniture oC the w.ir.l, but all was clean and fresh, ready for occupation. 1m the small hut close by lived the native apothecary in charge, while the ward boy sat crouched on his haunches, his chin resting on the palms of his hands, the sole living being in the hospital itself.

It was midday, and the air was still and hot. Vishnu hat looking across the harbor, thinking over the events of the previous evening, when, after having signed an agreement with the doctor, he had returned to relate the joyful news of his appointment to the few remaining relatives he possessed. ll n child svite had "aid very little, but her eyea gleamed happily at the idea of the small fortune they would possess when Vishnu should receive the munificent income of twenty rupees a mouth. ' And all my clothes,' he had added as a crowning surprise. The naked brown baby in his wife * arms was very thin, and Viahnu looked at it compassionately, though of course, being only a girl, it could never expect either affection or consideration in the world. Perhaps if he could propitiate the gods by sacrifice some day a sou might be granted him to perform those rites necessary after death to rescue his soul from hell. Though a Brahmin, and duly invested with a sacred thread, Vishnu wai absolutely ignorant of most things pertaining to his

religion. His uncle, who had formerly denounced him as idle and good for nothing, now rated him soundly for undertaking employment which would bring dipgrace not only on kimself, but on all connected with him. Vishnu had sorrowfully acquiesced in the sentence of degradation, comforting himself merely by repeating now and again : ' Twenty rupees a month and all my clothes given me. 1 It was a marvellously solacing reflection, and the only one that appealed to the poor, half-starved little wife, who watched him with reverent eyeH. Next morning Vishnu had left the house in the cool silence of dawn, and midday found him at hia post at the pLgue hospital.

I-i his hnt- the apothecary was reading a letter received by the morning's post from a friend, an accountant by profession ; the rnritont-w WcrP n« follows •

' I have been ill and am now recovering ; there is some wonderful native medicine given me principally for pain in my side, the drug to be taken once a week in boiled fleßh of tortoise ; this has reduced pain in my side by about one-seventh. It was at first thought that I had the evil sickness of the plague, but it was not so, and I hoped to be cured soon by His Grace.' Then followed more to the same effect.

'Bah!' ejacalated the apothecary scornfully — he was a small, sleek, very fat Goanese— ' nowadays men are so frightened they think every pain is going- to turn to plague. They have no courage, none at all , now if I was nervous about such things how should I havo taken this appointment ?' He patted himself complacently and looked across at the empty hospital. At the door sat Vishnu looking out over the sea. ' I don't believe that boy will stay if we get a case,' he thought, and shook his head sorrowfully in anticipation of the lad's defection. 'Ah ! there are not many such brave men in the world as I,' and again he stroked hia pompous little person in a congratulatory way.

Inside the hospital it was cool, dark, and still ; outside the glare and heat were intense, but the only sounds were those of the crows cawing and the copper bird with its one monotonous note, ' Too-hoo,' ' Too-hoo,' ' Too-hoo.' Presently Vishnu's head dropped forward on his knees and he fell asleep.

For lo whole days the hospital remained absolutely empty. Every morning Vishnu swept and dusted the wards, after having fitst performed his own ablutions, above all the teeth cleaning, which is an essential part of a Brahmin's observances. The apothecary in his little hut grew visibly fatter and oilier, and was almost jocular on the subject of the plague, from which they teemed indeed to have a wonderful immunity. There was very little to be done all day but to eat and sleep and ask questions of the few people from the outer world who visited the hospital. Now and again an English Sahib would come, accompanied by the doctor, and, after seeing round the place, express satisfaction at all the arrangements therein. Vishnu was a part of the arrangements, and therefore included in the general satisfactoriness. The natives who came occasionally to sell sweetmeats, or the barber who squatted beside Vishnu under a tree at the back of the apothecary's house to shave, him — f^r no Brahmin will shave himself — brought accounts of what was happening in the city , the latest news of the plague, the price of grain, and the possibility of a rise or fall in the rates, and the number of bodies burned at tae principal burning ghat of the city , such information was imparted in brief oracular sentences. On iho eleventh day a patient was brought to the hospital, almo-t the first indications of his arrival being the sudden departure of the apothecary, who had prayed daily and fervently that his services might not, be required. The sick man was laid on one of the nairuw iron bedsteads. His wife had come to tend him, and h. Id n baby at the breast — it was the great attractions of the hospital that patients might bring their own relations to feed and nurse them and so run no risk of pollution by the touch of any one belonging to ix diftt rent caste.

Vishnu sa about Ins work cheerfully and did it well. The ei=e was a serious one, but, having been taken in time, not hopeless. In a few days the patient wua pronounced out of danger, but in the meantime two othir cases had been admitted. Another apothecary, a far brtur type of man, had been appointed, and the doctor paid his visits regularly three times a day and once at night. He waa al-v) a Go-tnese, a clever and not unkind man. The time passed more quickly with so much to be done, and Vishnu counted triumphantly that he now had worked 1(> days towards the attainment of hi-, month's wagt s. True, one rupee and a few odd annas had been advanced him for food ; these must be deducted ; the b ihmce owing to him had to be carefully reckoned on his fingers. He had worked faithfully and well for this, and had earned the praise of both doctor and apothecary. Not that Vishnu cared much tor words, but still if thrown in together with other good and substantial tl.ingd they might be taken as not altogether worthless. An ins-tiuct of common humanity hud led him to be attentive and patient with the sick men, who generally lay rolled up like so many motionless mummies, unless the delirium was on them, during which it would require sometimes absolute force to hold them in their buds. Tbere was one poor fellow to whom Vishnu was particularly drawn by the fact of his being the only patient whose relatives had not attended him to the hospital. Moreover the man was weak and suffered during his convalescence from fainting fitß, which hail once or twice senl Vishnu running wildly across for help, thinking him to be dead. The doctor duly recorded the fact in the official report as follows • —

■ Suffers from fainting feats ; it is a common occurrence during recovery among those affected with weak hearts.'

In spite of the ' feats' the man was recovering, and bade fair to be discharged cured. Vishnu had confided to him the great salary he was to draw, and had been pleased at seeing hia companion duly impressed.

One evening Vishnu sat outside waiting for his dinner, which was being prepared by one of the women belonging to a patient, a

Brahmin like himself. It had been a very depressing!- day, with two deaths in the hospital ; the bodies had been removed to a burning: ghat not far distant. The ghat was hidden from the hospital by the plateau, but Vishnu could see the flames leaping into the air in the distance. A tree covered with white blossoms which stood near and appeared at the end of the ridge was dyed blood red. Overhead the moon was Bhining brightly in a cloudless bky, the wind had risen and blew in from the sea disturbing the rushes on the bank, among which the frogs were croaking loudly, rustling the dry leaves on the thatched roof of the hospital and touching the top of the palm trees along the ridge. It ,was a cold wind and Vishnu fahivcrud inip,itiently. He Lad hurt his lc£ a. fcv.- nv'!.t° prcv'o'T-iy crossing the ground in the dark, and the wound was sore and painful — lie had 11 uL thought of h«*\ ing it attended to. Insi ie the hospital the patient was screaming wildly in delirium ; outside a screech owl settled among the boughs of the tree behind the apothecary's hut, and joined with the frogs in making night hideous with their noises. On any ordinary ordinary occasion Vishnu would not have noticed such common everyday sounds,but he was tired and depressed and could not get the calculation of his wages right. lie had eaten very little food that day, and, in fact, for days paat being loathe to draw any more advances on his salary. After all, there would be none too much when divided among himself, his wife and child ; then, too, doubtless, the uncle would exact something in payment for all the time he had lived at home, earning nothing or next to nothing. When at last the food came he was disinclined to eat it, and soon returned to the ward. There, at least, it was warm, and there was company however far from lively. His duties had to be performed and he set about them in a mechanical way ; at his friend's bed he waited a moment. 'I am all right now,' said the man, and shall be out to-morrow and back at my work again soon. I hope you may have good luck and not get ill yourself,' It was his way of thanking the lad. Soon after tho doctor made his round for the night and would not come again unless sent for to his house in the city. The apothecary was close at hand, and came in from time to time to see if anything was required. The hospital was very quiet at fir?t, and presently Vishnui sitting huddled in a corner wrapped in his blanket, fell ableep. Once in the night a woman who wanted something came and touched him on the shoulder, but he did not wake ; he was sleeping very heavily, and shivered from time to time. When the dim gray morning light stole in and the patients began to rouse themselves, there were calls for the ward boy. They called loudly and the women impatiently, and yet tho boy did not stir, though he was lying in their midst, lyiDg as he had fallen over during the night. One of the women shook him, but still he did not move. %He must be dead,' screamed another. ' Run and fetch the apothecary.' The apothecary came over leiburely. ' Dead ' ' he said, contemptuously. ■ 1 saw him sleeping quite peacefully when I pa-ssed through the ward.' The boy still lay just a.i before, but hia breath was coming in fast, short, gasps. The apothecary dispersed the women crowding around the lad and had him removed to a bed. His experienced eye told him at once that Vishnu was down with the plague. It was not astonishing. Later the doctor came ; he looked acrots at the apothecary and Bhook his head. 'A mahgnaut case,' he said, thoughtfully; he was a clever, practical man ; th^n they discovered the wound on the leg, and he spoke even more hopelessly than before. 'We must do our best, but it is a had case." Both he and the apothecary had taken a fancy to the boy who had worked so cheerfully and bravely in the ward. Two 'coolies' were pressed into service, for it was not easy to procure ward boys, now that all knew the dangers attending the post. They were wild, half-stupid, sullen-locking creatures, but better than none at all. and qaite willing to remain for high wages. All that day and the next Vishnu lay in a stupor, from which he only roused on the third evening. Then came wild delirium, during which he was forever making hopele-ts calculations. ■ Sixteen days at 20 rupees a month, cut one rupee three annas, 20 days at IC rupees. Cat a day, cut two rupees, 20 rupees at lf> dayß,' and so it went on and on all through the long hours. Toward morning he fell into a quiet fleep, from which he woke almost free from fever and with his senses clear. Wheu the doctor had been and gone, and the apothecary alone stood beside him for a minute, Vishnu trit-d to speak. ' I am all right now — how long have I been ill !' he a«ked. •Only two or three days : you are better, but you must remain quite still,' the other answered. ' Shall I get no wages while I am ill .' ' he inquired anxiously. ' You will get your full wages,' was the reply — the apothecary' -i answer was unathorieed, but ho spoke as his ieelings dictated, being a humane man. 'That is good,' replied Vighnu, turning his face to the wall contentedly. The long hot hours of the day passed ; toward evening a breeze sprang up and blew in at the open door. Presently the moon rose and Vishnu could see the light on the waters of the harbor. The doctor had been again and pronounced the boy decidedly better. but that he would need much care. At 1 1 the apothecary came on his round. 'I have served 10 days,' said Vishnu, anxiously ; ' do you think the Sahibs would give me a few rupees in advance to send to my family / It can be cut from my wages at the end of the month.' ' I will speak to the doctor about it,' answered the apothecary, soothingly, aa he passed on round the hospital.

The only sounds in the ward that night were those from the Bleeping coolies, who Bnored loudly. The patients were better, all but one, who had been buried the previous day ; the others *Jay sleeping quietly. Vishnu lay quite still, looking out over the rushes toward the moonlit waters. He was in no pain now, only very weak. How fortunate it was, he thought, that he had not died this time, without any son to perform the ceremony necessary to rescue his soul from hell ; it was the one thing of his religion which was a real practical fact to him. Then he wondered if hia wife would cry and tear her hair ; but no, she need never know he had been ill and she so nearly a widow. Presently, looking round. tho wsH, hp h^ppn to wnrvW how th« nf-h^r patientß were, particularly the man who had lain like himself, without a relative to ter.d him ; it occurred to him ho would go and ppp for himself — the man's bed was near the door. Getting off the bed he felt strangely weak and giddy, and was obliged to hold the bedsteads for support as he passed. The moonlight lay in a broad white Btreak from the open door to the wall, and that was where the bed should be; he made another step forward and fell prone on the earthen floor. A shriek ran through the ward — the patients turned restlessly, but did not wake — the snoring coolies raised their heads and dropped them again, for all was still. Outside in the tree behind the hut the screech owl woke, and its piercing, unearthly cry filled the air ; soon it, too, ceased, and then all was still, very still. In the morning, when the light stole glimmering in, some one moved. Presently the apothecary came in, unusually early, before any one was astir. ' I had a bad dream about the boy,' he said afterward, when recording the facts to the doctor, ' and woke thinkirjg I heard him ■cream. It was only the screech owl, though, so I just went baok to bed. When I found him this morning he was quite dead, stiff and cold.' The two men looked at each other and then at the form lying on the bed. 1 He was a good ward boy,' said the doctor ; it will be difficult to get another like him.' 1 Vishnu Bulwunt died from failure of the heart's action ' ; this was the official report. Ilia body was burned, as that of a high caste Brahmin should be, on the principal burning ghat of the city, and hia wages for 1G days at 20 rupees a month duly forwarded to the meek-eyed child widow, not even deducting the fees for the burning of the corpse, which were paid out of the funds of that public body in whose service he had died. — Longman's Magazine.