From time to time
uncanny voices and murmurs are heard in the black forest.
"The wind sings its strange song amongst the ruins," says one of us,
"what a wonderful acoustic phenomenon!" "Bhuta, bhuta!" whisper
the awestruck torch-bearers. They brandish their torches and
swiftly spin on one leg, and snap their fingers to chase away the
aggressive spirits.
The plaintive murmur is lost in the distance. The forest is once
more filled with the cadences of its invisible nocturnal life -
the metallic whirr of the crickets, the feeble, monotonous croak
of the tree-frog, the rustle of the leaves. From time to time all
this suddenly stops short and then begins again, gradually increasing
and increasing.
Heavens! What teeming life, what stores of vital energy are hidden
under the smallest leaf, the most imperceptible blades of grass,
in this tropical forest! Myriads of stars shine in the dark blue
of the sky, and myriads of fireflies twinkle at us from every bush,
moving sparks, like a pale reflection of the far-away stars.
- - - - - -
We left the thick forest behind us, and reached a deep glen, on
three sides bordered with the thick forest, where even by day the
shadows are as dark as by night. We were about two thousand feet
above the foot of the Vindhya ridge, judging by the ruined wall
of Mandu, straight above our heads. Suddenly a very chilly wind
rose that nearly blew our torches out. Caught in the labyrinth
of bushes and rocks, the wind angrily shook the branches of the
blossoming syringas, then, shaking itself free, it turned back
along the glen and flew down the valley, howling, whistling and
shrieking, as if all the fiends of the forest together were joining
in a funeral song.
"Here we are," said Sham Rao, dismounting. Here is the village;
the elephants cannot go any further."
"The village? Surely you are mistaken. I don't see anything
but trees."
"It is too dark to see the village. Besides, the huts are so small,
and so hidden by the bushes, that even by daytime you could hardly
find them. And there is no light in the houses, for fear of the spirits."
"And where is your witch? Do you mean we are to watch her performance
in complete darkness?"
Sham Rao cast a furtive, timid look round him; and his voice, when
he answered our questions, was somewhat tremulous.
"I implore you not to call her a witch! She may hear you. ..... It
is not far off, it is not more than half a mile. Do not allow this
short distance to shake your decision. No elephant, and even no
horse, could make its way there. We must walk. ... But we shall
find plenty of light there.... "
This was unexpected, and far from agreeable.
