United States or Norfolk Island ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Fate and the Government of India have turned the Station of Kashima into a prison; and, because there is no help for the poor souls who are now lying there in torment, I write this story, praying that the Government of India may be moved to scatter the European population to the four winds. Kashima is bounded on all sides by the rocktipped circle of the Dosehri hills.
In Spring, it is ablaze with roses; in Summer, the roses die and the hot winds blow from the hills; in Autumn, the white mists from the jhils cover the place as with water, and in Winter the frosts nip everything young and tender to earth-level. There is but one view in Kashima a stretch of perfectly flat pasture and plough-land, running up to the gray-blue scrub of the Dosehri hills.
There are no amusements, except snipe and tiger shooting; but the tigers have been long since hunted from their lairs in the rock-caves, and the snipe only come once a year. Narkarra one hundred and forty-three miles by road is the nearest station to Kashima. But Kashima never goes to Narkarra, where there are at least twelve English people. It stays within the circle of the Dosehri hills.
Boulte was the one woman in the world for him and you dare not blame them. Kashima was as out of the world as Heaven or the Other Place, and the Dosehri hills kept their secret well. Boulte had no concern in the matter. He was in camp for a fortnight at a time. He was a hard, heavy man, and neither Mrs. Boulte nor Kurrell pitied him.
It was an unpleasant sound the mirthless mirth of these men on the long white line of the Narkarra Road. There were no strangers in Kashima, or they might have thought that captivity within the Dosehri hills had driven half the European population mad. The laughter ended abruptly, and Kurrell was the first to speak. 'Well, what are you going to do? Boulte looked up the road, and at the hills.
For two months the Rains had hidden the Dosehri hills and many other things besides; but, when they lifted, they showed Mrs. Boulte that her man among men, her Ted for she called him Ted in the old days when Boulte was out of earshot was slipping the links of the allegiance. 'The Vansuythen Woman has taken him, Mrs.
Boulte began to breathe through her nose before breaking out into tears, he laughed and stared straight in front of him at the Dosehri hills. 'Is that all? he said. 'Thanks, I only wanted to know, you know. 'What are you going to do? said the woman, between her sobs. 'Do! Nothing. What should I do? Kill Kurrell, or send you Home, or apply for leave to get a divorce?
He was to be the outsider in that happy family whose cage was the Dosehri hills. 'You're singing villainously out of tune, Kurrell, said the Major truthfully. 'Pass me that banjo. And he sang in excruciating-wise till the stars came out and all Kashima went to dinner. That was the beginning of the New Life of Kashima the life that Mrs. Boulte made when her tongue was loosened in the twilight.
Then the Rains came, when no one could go into camp, and the Narkarra Road was washed away by the Kasun River, and in the cup-like pastures of Kashima the cattle waded knee-deep. The clouds dropped down from the Dosehri hills and covered everything. At the end of the Rains Boulte's manner towards his wife changed and became demonstratively affectionate.
Word Of The Day