The flame-gatherers

by Margaret Horton Potter

And so, while they walked, the Buddhist expounded to the lonely youth the simple doctrines of the great religion: the renunciation of desire, of pleasure, of indulgence in the flesh, and the growth of that serenity that leads gradually to Nirvana, the great extinction. And the plan of it all, the eightfold abstinence, the fourfold path, seemed to Oman a perfect conception. The whole doctrine was, to his troubled soul, like balm on a deep wound, a draught of water to one perishing in the desert. And in his delight, he was freed from traditional prejudice, and gave himself up entirely to the new companionship.

Thus, through the whole afternoon, the two walked together, communing, until, as the sun slipped under the western horizon, they paused once more before the house of Gokarna. Hushka had reminded the young man that his father and mother must be told of his wish to become a Buddhist. Indeed, in the depths of his quiet mind, the Bhikkhu apprehended insuperable difficulty here, yet knew that the matter must be faced; and he let Oman decide the manner of its presentation. To Hushka’s astonishment, Oman took it unquestioningly on himself, asking Hushka to wait in the veranda while he went within to inform his parents, or, in case Gokarna were absent, at least his mother, of his great decision. Hushka made no protest, nor suggested his own fitness to give a favorable impression concerning the Bhikkhu’s life. Remembering Oman’s new-born enthusiasm and seeing in him no sign of nervousness about approaching his guardians, Hushka reflected that Oman might have been divinely fitted for this task. So, after a short colloquy at the veranda step, the monk sat down in the vine-covered retreat, and Oman went on into the house, where, contrary to his expectation, he found both his father and his mother.

For a long time Hushka sat there in the falling night, cross-legged, in the manner of the Sakyamuni, his hands on his knees, his head resting against the wall of the house, meditating. And while he indulged himself in hope, there came, through the open doorway, the low, monotonous murmur of voices. They were never raised above the ordinary pitch; and this Hushka perceived with increasing satisfaction. Once or twice there were to be heard a woman’s tones, followed always by the musical voice of Oman, and the heavier baritone of Gokarna. But the discussion, if discussion there were, was carried on in an entirely matter-of-fact manner.

During this time, outside, the hands of Nature had been at work, and now the whole sky was robed in luminous, fleecy gray, strewn with white stars, and crowned with the radiant half-moon, which shed silver beams over the whole earth. The air was warm and fragrant with the breath of spring. It was a night when the very atmosphere brought intoxication. And gradually the expression of him sitting alone in the veranda changed, and grew very sad; and a new light, one of sorrow and yearning, shone in the depths of his large eyes.

Now the murmur of voices inside the house ceased. Oman’s task was accomplished. After a moment of silence the three came out of the firelit room, into the cool and shadowy veranda. It was a second or two before any one of them could see Hushka, who had risen, and slowly moved forward to them. Then Gokarna also advanced, and spoke:

“O Bhikkhu, Oman, my son, has told me that which my heart is sad to hear. He wishes to receive from you Buddhist ordination and go forth as your pupil.”

Hushka bent his head once. “That is true. The young man came to me after I had discoursed upon the Dharma in the market-place, and asked that he might become my Saddhiviharika, to listen daily to the Dharma and become versed in the way of the great life.”

“So says my son; and, O Bhikkhu, so fervently doth he desire to enter upon this life, that he hath won consent from us. So I bid you take him for a pupil, and treat him with that forbearance that is a law of all religions.”

Hushka bent his head again. “Let it be thus,” he said solemnly.

There was a stifled sob from Kota, who stood in the background, behind her husband; and then Oman, who had embraced her, went forward to his master, asking: “When shall I receive the ordination?”