The result of all this almsgiving was that in the end, he himself became very poor, or as the native translation more nearly renders it, he “became as dry as a fish baked in the sun.”
One day, as the tale goes, two Fakirs, “Kallundars,” or begging monks as they are sometimes called, were on their way to Mecca to perform that pilgrimage which is obligatory on every devout Moslem once in his life, and on their way thither they had to pass through the village in which “Sakhi” resided, so they made up their minds to pay him a visit, and obtain his blessing on their journey.
As they entered the village they accosted the first man they met, and asked him to direct them to the house of the famous “Sakhi.” This man, who was no other than “Sakhi” himself, replied, “The name of names is the name of Allah, and I am named ‘Sakhi.’” Whereupon, according to his custom, he invited them to his abode, and when they entered it they were at once struck with the signs of poverty that were to be seen on every side; the hut, for such it literally was, was almost devoid of furniture, and the place was quite comfortless.
“Sakhi’s” wife rose at their entrance, and he then told her, under a breath, to set food before the travellers, but she replied “You have given all your substance away and nothing is left. ‘Kyâ Kuren!’ she said, or what is to be done?” “Sakhi” replied, “These are holy men and must be entertained, so pray borrow of our neighbours.” “Sakhi” then followed his wife for a brief period, which gave time for the travellers to say one to another, “How poor he is; and though we are hungry let us eat sparingly, and leave some on the dish for him and his family.”
Meanwhile the wife had procured some “ātā,” or flour, and in a short time placed before them some “chapāties,” or thin cakes, and they all began to eat, and “Sakhi’s” daughter had a portion taken to her.
After they had all eaten, the travellers rose to go, and with many salaams, and wishing peace and safety to the house, they were just on the point of starting when “Sakhi” said, “I must go with you a little way to put you on the right road, for there are many cattle tracks about the village, and you might miss your way.” So saying he accompanied them very nearly to the main road, when they finally bid him “adieu,” wondering most of all that though he was so very poor he seemed to be so happy and contented.
SAKHI, THE GENEROUS MOSLEM.
“Sakhi” now turned to go back, when to his astonishment he saw a column of smoke ascending from the village, and he quickened his pace, when he met a man running to tell him that his hut had been burnt down, and that both his wife and daughter had perished in the flames.
“Sakhi” on reaching the spot, found this to be only too true, and when he could safely venture near, he saw to his horror, only their charred remains, and at once cried out “It is the will of Allah; he is One, and Mahomed is his prophet. I shall leave this place and go into the City, and seek service under the King.” So off he went on his journey feeling much distressed, but confident that something good would turn up. His way lay through a rather dense jungle where there were in some parts of it, patches of very high grass. In one of these he thought he would rest himself, and as it was time for the mid-day prayer, he performed his regular devotions, and holding out his hands as usual to receive the blessing, he spoke out rather more audibly than he was wont to do, when to his utter amazement he heard a voice calling out, “Rescue us, save us from this misery!” He then groped about in the long grass, and discovered that the sound came from a deep, dry well, and looking down he saw a man in great trouble, who must have fallen in by accident he thought, and then peering closer he descried also a jackal and a snake.