“From now till we reach Bágh we shall be almost constantly in the hills. And there are nearly three months of journeying before the Vassa[6] can be begun.”
[6] Vassa: the customary sojourn in Viharas, or monasteries, from June to October.
“I am glad. The hills are a delight to me!”
But no sooner had this simple thought escaped Oman’s lips, than he repented of it; for he imagined that he should bring upon himself a text commending the beauty of indifference to all things. But Hushka, in the interval, had read his mind, and, smiling faintly, said: “Be not afraid, Oman, that this religion will take from thee all thy delights. Our lives, free from care, free from dread of the morrow, of any concern for to-day, free from loneliness or the burdens of poverty, want, and suffering, are almost wholly without pain; and this was the great wish of the Buddha. We are taught to look charitably and kindly on all living things, allowing each its place. And if, in our hearts, we have cherished any evil thought toward any man, we are allowed the relief of confessing it before the assembled Samgha. This frame of mind is conducive to the greatest serenity. And you, O Oman, will find, in one year’s time, that your whole attitude of mind is changed. You will regard meditation on holy things, and the study of the Dharma, as the highest privileges of life.”
Hushka paused, and Oman found in his words enough food for thought to be glad of silence. They proceeded for a long time without speech. And gradually, as Oman came out of his revery, he found his spirits growing lighter. A sense of freedom had taken possession of him; and now every step that increased the distance between himself and the home of his unnatural and unhappy youth, increased also his delight.
When the sun hung in mid-sky, and they had reached the end of the first pass and stood in a little valley, through which ran a stream of fresh water, the two sat down to eat and take an hour’s rest. They seated themselves on the thick grass, careful to disturb no insect visible to the eye; and then, without any preliminary grace or offering to any god, a matter as natural to Oman as eating, began their meal. They faced each other, and Hushka kept an eye on his pupil to see that he transgressed none of those rules of polite eating so minutely set forth in the Kullavagga. But there was no fault to be found with the student on this point. On the contrary, Oman ate as delicately as a woman; and Hushka, after watching him for a moment or two, exclaimed pleasantly:
“By the word of the Samgha, Oman, thou hast the look as well as the way of a woman about thee, sometimes.”
Oman lifted his head, a gleam of terror in his eyes. “I am not a woman. How, then, should I resemble one?” he demanded fiercely.
Hushka, still contemplating him, smiled, but did not answer the question. Then Oman, distressed and angry, sprang to his feet, and began to pace up and down the bank of the stream; and it was five minutes before he could return to his meal.
At this time of his life, perhaps what Hushka said about Oman’s appearance was more or less true. His slender figure, dreaming dark eyes, face guiltless of any beard, and hair flowing to his shoulders, might, indeed, have belonged to a woman of high caste. But there was also something about him that was decisively masculine:—whether his manner of carrying himself, the habit of looking any one piercingly in the eye, or his taciturnity, it would be hard to say. But it is very certain that the mingling of two elements in him had produced no weak and vacillating creature, of meagre intellect and silly tongue. Freed from the unhappy surroundings of his youth, Oman was likely henceforth to command both interest and respect; and Hushka’s foregoing remark had been nothing more than a thoughtless and haphazard jest.