Bishop Heber, who did not understand native character, and possessed much simplicity, was surprised when the up-country natives thus addressed him: “Defender of the poor, peace be unto you! Refuge of the distressed, sālāmut[57]!” and imagined it was from respect to his holy office. I was playing with the son of the judge, a little fellow of two years old; the child offered to shake hands, and presented his left hand—his native attendant, shocked at what he considered an insult, desired him to give the right hand; the child did so, when the chaprāsī cried out with great pleasure, “Well done! well done! Refuge of the distressed! defender of the poor!”
Ram Din, the man mentioned in Chapter XI., was a Rājput sipahī in the Company’s service, from which, after twelve years’ service, he obtained his discharge; he was in many engagements. In Calcutta the man came to us, and, making salām, presented his chitthīs (written vouchers of conduct), saying; “Refuge of the distressed, having heard of your great name, I am present to offer my services; I have served the Company faithfully twelve years, I will serve you faithfully.” He was a fine native, about six feet high or upwards; he lived with us many years, and had always charge of the boats or the tents when we moved about the country.
A native is very fond of wearing a plain silver ring on the little finger, with a stone on the top, on which is engraved his own name, and sometimes that of the god he particularly worships, if the man be an Hindoo. They usually stamp any petition they may have to send to any gentleman with it, by putting Hindostanī ink on the seal, wetting the paper, and pressing the seal down upon it[58].
On the signet-ring of the Rājput above mentioned was “Ram Din Mahādēo.” The engraver invariably puts the date of the year on the corner of the stone, unless it be expressly forbidden. Engraved on the ruby of a signet-ring, brought to me from Persia, was “Allah, Muhammad, Ali, Fatima, Hussen, Hossein[59].”
THE DURWĀN.
What happy wretches the natives are! A man who gets two annas a day (fourpence), can find himself in food, clothing, house, silver finery for his person, and support his wife and children also. My ayha in Calcutta, who received eleven rupees a month, refused any longer to dine with her dear friend the durwān, because, as she expressed it, he was so extravagant and such a glutton he would eat as much as one rupee and a half or two rupees a month; and, as she herself never ate more than one rupee per month, she would no longer go shares in his expenses. The durwān lives at the entrance-gates of his master’s house, and is always in attendance to open them; his wages are usually five rupees a month; and he is always on the watch that nothing may be carried away clandestinely. The man, whose portrait is annexed, bears the marks of his caste in three yellow horizontal lines above the red circle on his forehead; around his neck are two strings of the beads called mandrasee, as represented by Fig. 9, in the sketch entitled “[Jugunnath].” Large heavy rings of silver are on his arms, and the bracelet is also of silver.
THE DURWAN.
فاني پارکس
The durwāns are very fond of brilliant colours, and are generally well dressed; their food consists principally of curry made of kid, fish, chicken, prawns, or vegetables, with a great quantity of Patna rice boiled to perfection, every grain separate, and beautifully white. My ayha brought me one day a vegetable curry of her own making, to show me the food on which she lived with her friend the durwān; it would have been excellent, had it not been made with moota tel, i.e. mustard oil.