'He has attained the release,' said Hari. 'We will rest in his place.' Munoo felt the dread of death facing him. The picture of the large, ugly, demoniac form of the god of death which he had seen in a lithograph in a shop at Daulatpur, standing guard over the souls of the wicked who strained to swim across the ocean of blood, formed itself before his eyes. The blood in his body seemed to dry up. But he felt the warmth of the child's breath on his cheek and Hari spoke: 'We are not afraid of ghosts.' Fortunately his wife had not heard the woman's warn- ing, as she had lagged behind, weighed down by the load she was bearing. 'Come and rest your limbs here Lakshami,' said Hari, as she approached. And he unrolled the baggage he carried She obeyed her lord and master. 'We will rest out on the pavement,' Hari said, putting his 202 hand affectionately on Munoo's back. "The children can sleep there with their mother." Munoo laid the boy on the unrolled bedding in the gallery. Then he came back and sat down on the pavement next to the concrete wall. The slab of stone under him exuded the warmth which the scorching sun of the day had left in it. But he saw that there were sheeted figures sprawled all over the pavement. 'One gets habituated to it, he thought. I shall soon get used to it. Only I am new here.' As he cast his eyes along the street, this side and that, he saw why it felt strange here. The swarming houses in Daulatpur were comparatively low and the coolies huddling about them seemed like ants on a heap, while the very gigantic proportions of these colossal stone buildings which shadowed the narrow bazaars made the dark bodies of coolics seem out of place. And there was something op- pressive in the low Southern sky overhead and in the dense, dark, stifling atmosphere which it enclosed. And everything seemed so still, so dead. Munoo felt very alone. Then he became aware of a hot blast of air which came loaded with the sickly, foetid odur of ghee, sandalwood, urine, sour milk, fish and decaying fruit. He looked in the direction from which the smell oozed. A soft breath half moar, half sigh, was all he could hear and the movement of a corpse flinging off its blanket. He looked the other way. There was another coolie turning on his side restlessly and muttering something. He withdrew his glance. Presently he becarne conscious of a bare body rolling in anguish and slapping itself on the kuees to the accompaniment of foul curses. Munoo looked beyond this man, across the road, then beyond Hari who had laid down on his left and beyond the widow, who still sat bending her head in her hand. There were corpses and corpses all along the pavement. If the half dead are company he was not alone. But he felt a dread steal through him, the dread of sleep, the uncanny 203 fear of bodies in abeyance, whose souls might suddenly do anything, begin to snore, open their bloodshot eyes for a second, grunt, groan, moan, or lie still in a ghastly, absolute stillness. Silently and quickly he extended his legs and dragged his body into the attitude of slecp, closed his eyes, and, tried to assure himself that all these people were just like him, not ghosts, but men. They have probably all come down from the north to find work like me,' he reflected. 'I wonder if they stole rides on trains or had to pay fares. That elephant driver! He must be on the black waters now. He was kind!
And Prabha! I wish they knew that I have made friends and am going to get a job to-morrow. They hoth said I was a brave lad. Yes, I can do things. But what could I do if all men were like Ganpat or the policeman, or the man in the food shop to-day. I wonder what Hari thinks. His black face always remains the same. I shall ask him to tell me his story to-morrow. His wife keeps her face covered. I would like to know what she looks like A ripple of warmth passed through him at the thought. He felt feverish. 'Sleep, sleep, come, sleep,' he said to himself. A queer agitation possessed him, unsettling him, exciting him, working him up into a panic, so intense that the sharp edges of his thoughts cut open his brain in their wild- rush outwards. 'O, sleep! sleep!' he cried out in his soul. And he closed his eyes deliberately tight. But though his eyes were tired and his bones weary, they were too weary for sleep. His body quivered and perspired. He gasped for breath, turned on his side and saw Hari fast asleep. He tried to simulate the appearance of Hari's body, thinking, that by copying the right posture on the pavement he could sleep. For a moment he rested thus, histrionically. The image of Hari's wife stood before him, veiled. He opened his eyes. It was no use. He felt he must get up and rush away, away, away, somewhere beyond the confines of the street, somewhere where there was a whiff of air to breathe. But he was afraid he would stumble on the bodies which lay along the pavement and then there would be a scene. He 204 tossed about on his stone bed, flinging his elastic haunches from side to side till he felt his hip hones ache with the im- pact of hardness against hardness. Then he plunged his head on to his hands and lay face downwards. The suffo- cating darkness descended on him. A cool breeze blew through the street at dawn. penetrated into the bodies of the coolics, lepers, beggars and paupers, through the rents and holes in the flimsy sheets that covered them. They shivered and stirred uncomfortably, or huddled against each other, or shrank into knots, or merely turned on their sides. Another gust. The naked lepers' moaned. The others clutched their gor- ments closer or awakened suddenly from the intoxication of the sweet early morning's sleep. thankful to God even in their discomfort, as they murmured 'Ram, Ram, Sri, Sri.' The breeze which came from the sea soon became a windy draught. The names of God multiplied on the lips of the wretches, because, ritually, every spasm of cough, every mouthful of stale spittle, every blow of the nose, is in India an occasion for the invocation of the Almighty. Those who were not awakened by the noise of an asth- matic or consumptive cough, by the sharp, thunderous spurts of spitting, or by the loud and vehement blowing of noses, or by the multifarious names of God, were awakened by the arm of the law which, baton in hand, came to clear the pavements near Chaupatti. Munoo was one of them, Hari having got up already. 'Ram, Ram, brether.' greeted Hari. We should be on the way to the factory.' 'Are the children awake?" asked Munoo, with enthusiasm and alacrity. 'If not I will carry them."
'We will rouse the affliction of God,' said Hari. They must learn to wake up early. They will have to go to work at the factory before sunrise every morning. Why did I go 205 away from Bombay four months ago, if not to fetch them, so that, like the children of other men, they should begin to earn their living. Thus only can we make both ends. meet. Then he looked towards the passage-way, where his wife had kept watch while the children slept all night. 'Why, Lakshami, are the children awake?"
