Nágki phani, chánd ka dúkh
Uski badi, áp ka súkh.[[6]]
I did not understand his lunar allusion, but, judging that his rhyming gibberish, like that of the rascally priests in Apuleius, was a carefully prepared oracle of general application, kept in stock for the cozening of such prey as myself, I repeated to him my favourite Hindu proverb,[[7]] and gave him in exchange for his benevolent cheque on the future, a more commonplace article of present value, which led to our parting on the most amicable terms. But I did him injustice, perhaps. Long afterwards, having occasion to consult an astronomical chart, with reference to this very story, all at once I started, and in an instant, the golden evening, the walls of Delhi, and my friend of the many snakes and sinister eyes, suddenly rose up again into my mind. For there, staring at me out of the chart, was the mark on the cobra's head. It is the sign still used in modern astronomy for "the head and tail of the dragon," the nodes indicating the point of occultation, the symbol of eclipse.
What then induced or inspired the gáruda to connect me with the moon? Was it really black art, divination, or was it only a coincidence? Reason recommends the latter alternative: and yet, the contrary persuasion is not without its charm. Who knows? It may be that the soul grows to its atmosphere as well as the body, and living in a land where dreams are realities, and all things are credible, and history is only a fairy tale—the land of the moon and the lotus and the snake, old gods and old ruins, former births, second sight, and idealism—it falls back, unconsciously mesmerised, under the spell of forgotten creeds.
POONA, April, 1906.
[[1]] Let go! Let go!
[[2]] Though nothing can be less romantic than a canal, gliding through that of Suez is a strange experience at night. Your great ship seems to move, swift and noiseless, through the very sand: and if only you could get there without knowing where you were, you would think that you were dreaming.
[[3]] Háwa, in Canarese, is the name of Ráhu.
[[4]] I did not count them, but there were several dozen, nearly all different. I have reason to believe that this man must have been one of the disciples of a former very celebrated snake charmer, who was known all over India.
[[5]] See, he makes obeisance.
[[6]] Which we may roughly render: Hood of snake brings joy and rue, this to moon and that to you. In all Oriental saws jingle counts for much.