Children of India

by Janet Harvey Kelman

“Oh, the Bible is the book sent from God, they say, to teach us how to get to heaven; and Jesus is the name of the divine Redeemer that came into the world to save us from sins: that is what the missionaries say.”

“Well, the song is a nice one anyhow; come sing us some more.”

But it is not only when words are spoken or sung that the traces of the King are seen in India. One of the most important things that happens there is the digging of a well, and here are some boys who are talking excitedly about a new well in their village. Let us hear what they are saying:—

“Yes, truly they got water—beautiful clear water, and it rushed in so fast that the men who dug had to flee for their lives.”

“And yet they did not have a Brahman to bless it?”

“No, I have told you they follow Christ. They do not obey the Brahmans.”

“Tell us what they did.”

“It was the time of heat! The river was dried up, and the new buildings of the Christians were almost finished. But as it was not fitting that this new religion should find shelter in our village, our priests had tried to prevent them from getting land. They did not succeed in that, but they forbade the Christian people to drink from the wells of the village, and behold the river was dry. The face of Raghu, the leader of the Christian folk, was sad, for what can man do without water? But he went away to consult the foreign teacher. When he returned, he was no longer sad, and it began to be said in the village that the Christians would dig a well within their own ground. Many heads were shaken, for no one thought that water could be found there. When the Christians began to dig everyone was still more amazed, for they did not dig at the lower end where water might soon be reached, if it were to be found anywhere, but high up, close to the dwellings of the low caste men. It was at the edge of their ground, and we all gathered to watch; each man had some taunt to fling at the foreigners, for they did not do anything to appease the gods; they did not consult with the wise men, nor call the priests to bless the well; they made no offerings at the temple, nor did they feast the Brahmans; and everyone was certain that no water would be found. It is true they did pray to their own God, but everyone was sure He had not given them good guidance, for a child may know that a well should not be dug near the dwellings of outcasts. But in answer to all the Christians said only, ‘We will surely get water.’ And they believed this, for they worked on day after day through the great heat until the well was so deep that they had to dig through rock—soft rock it was, it is true, but still hard enough to break the points of pickaxes. Weeks went on, and we ceased to watch the well of the foreigners, or to taunt them. It was an old story in the village, but when at any time we passed near it we could see that the digging was well and rightly done, and that if only water had been there, it would indeed have been a great well. But one day, as the village shops were quiet in the heat, there came a cry down the street, and the sound was of men who called, ‘We’ve got water.’ But we would not believe it till we ran to the well. There, as we bent over, we saw depths of water, beautiful clear water. The God of the foreign people had given them water! Come and see the ‘Jesus Christ well,’ and you will know that I tell the truth.”

Another boy was bitten by a deadly snake. He was much surprised when he was bitten. He had gone out with his uncle to work in the fields. All through the sugar-cane fields there are channels for water, and if anything falls into these channels to stop the water from flowing through them the sugar-cane will not grow. Timmaya Reddi was pushing along the bank of a channel, bending aside the tall cane stems to make way for himself, when he saw that the flow of the water was checked by something that he thought was a stick. He struck at it with his hook, and as he struck, the reddish-brown stick sprang up, for it was a deadly serpent. Timmaya leapt back, but not in time to save himself. The serpent bit his ankle, and then glided off into the canes. The poison was swift and powerful, and the boy fell back and remembered nothing until he awoke and opened his eyes under a tree beside the white doctor’s tent. Timmaya did not know what had happened. He had not felt his uncle lift him and run with him to his mother’s house, and lay him there as if he were dead. He had not heard the death wail rise from the village, nor had he heard the rush and clamour when a Christian shouted, “The missionary doctor! Take the boy to him. He came last night. He is in his tent now. It is only a mile away by the short cut.”

Thus the noise went on, but the boy was unconscious of it all. Strong men carried him by turns, down a steep path into a valley, up the other side through bushes and then on, over the fields, till they reached the white doctor’s tent.