They brought him back
with no end of pomp, mounting him on an elephant and spreading
flowers all along the road. Once in Dehra-Dun, he immediately
proceeded to found a Samaj, a society as you would say, and the
Dehra-Dun Arya-Samaj now counts at least two hundred members, who
have renounced idol-worship and superstition for ever."
"I was present," said Mulji, "two years ago in Benares, when Dayanand
broke to pieces about a hundred idols in the bazaar, and the same
stick served him to beat a Brahman with. He caught the latter in
the hollow idol of a huge Shiva. The Brahman was quietly sitting
there talking to the devotees in the name, and so to speak, with
the voice of Shiva, and asking money for a new suit of clothes the
idol wanted."
"Is it possible the Swami had not to pay for this new achievement
of his?"
"Oh, yes. The Brahman dragged him into a law court, but the judge
had to pronounce the Swami in the right, because of the crowd of
sympathizers and defenders who followed the Swami. But still he
had to pay for all the idols he had broken. So far so good; but
the Brahman died of cholera that very night, and of course, the
opposers of the reform said his death was brought on by the sorcery
of Dayanand Saraswati. This vexed us all a good deal."
"Now, Narayan, it is your turn," said I. Have you no story to
tell us about the Swami? And do you not look up to him as to
your Guru?"
"I have only one Guru and only one God on earth, as in heaven,"
answered Narayan; and I saw that he was very unwilling to speak.
"And while I live, I shall not desert them."
"I know who is his Guru and his God!" thoughtlessly exclaimed the
quick-tongued Babu. "It is the Takur - Sahib. In his person both
coincide in the eyes of Narayan."
"You ought to be ashamed to talk such nonsense, Babu," coldly
remarked Gulab-Sing. "I do not think myself worthy of being
anybody's Guru. As to my being a god, the mere words are a
blasphemy, and I must ask you not to repeat them... Here we are!"
added he more cheerfully, pointing to the carpets spread by the
servants on the shore, and evidently desirous of changing the topic.
"Let us sit down!"
We arrived at a small glade some distance from the bamboo forest.
The sounds of the magic orchestra reached us still, but considerably
weakened, and only from time to time. We sat to the windward of
the reeds, and so the harmonic rustle we heard was exactly like
the low tones of an Aeolian harp, and had nothing disagreeable
in it.
