“Come quickly, Kezia dear, we must get to the Springs at once. Darling child, why didn’t you fly with father and mother, where you would be safe from all danger? My wife, my love, forgive me for not going with you while I could escape. I see it is wicked King Pootana and his fierce tribe, who worship the goddess Kali, otherwise known as Devi or Durga, the Hindu goddess of destruction, and consort of Siva.”
Persus took the spy’s new sword and ran to the head of the army, he and his men killing one-third of the enemy’s men. Devi whispered to Pootana to kill Persus and steal Kezia. King Pootana saw the lovely bride in the distance and sent his men to capture her. She was caught and carried to their king, fainting as they took her. Persus fought like mad. Pootana’s men outnumbered his ten to one. Pootana took lovely Kezia for his own bride. This cruel, ugly, black Indian held the fair Egyptian bride in his arms, then told Persus he had won a sweet, handsome, white bride as well as his father’s gold. Persus was permitted to kiss Kezia good-bye. As the young husband held his bride in his arms, he quickly reached for his dagger—he always carried one,—and plunged it in Kezia’s soft white breast. She fell forward and died in her husband’s arms without a pain—there was a wonderful poison on the dagger that killed instantly. Doctor Persus had discovered this strange poison in a flower of the forest. The king reached for the dagger—not knowing it was poisoned—and the Doctor thrust it through his heart, the black king died at his feet. The revengeful black god Siva and his Hindu goddess Kali now influenced the minds of the rest of the king’s tribe to take the Doctor prisoner. The men obeyed Siva, also carried all the gold and jewels they could find in his home away. Later the tribe marched with Persus to Mandavee. The men gave the Prince of Mandavee part of the gold and jewels to put our poor Doctor in a narrow cell half filled with dirty water from the Arabian sea,—this was against the laws of India, all men had a right to protect their family and property. Our poor, good, innocent Doctor was taken a prisoner on his own land trying to protect his wife. Our forlorn Doctor was cold, ill and hungry; slaves would abuse him shamefully when he would ask for food and water. Later Terah, the priest, came to the prison; he had walked all the way disguised as a slave. They cast him in the same cell, or little dungeon, and then told the poor Hindu to starve to death with his master, not knowing he was a priest of high caste. Terah took from his breast a bag of dates and nuts and bottle of wine. Persus ate and drank a little, and handed it back to the dear, kind priest.
“Persus, child, my guardian angel showed me clairvoyantly I would soon be with my twin-soul. I will tell you the vision as I, an old man, saw it. As I lingered a moment by the altar of roses, I saw my own long lost bride in all her pure white robes, her lovely flowers and long white lace veil, standing by my side, with her beautiful pink and white arms full of pure fragrant lillies. My bride pictured me on a bier near the altar. She scattered all her sweet flowers on my shrouded, then held up a wonderful jeweled crown over a pure gold cross; then again showed me clairvoyantly, a big sheet of black samite on which was written in white letters showing plainly on the black, ‘Go quickly to Mandavee!’ The letters vanished, then I saw, on the black sheet, yourself, on the right hand of you I saw your Kezia in her bridal robes beckoning me to come to you. I saw my own wife put her arms around your bride and smile. I knew at once they were together on the astral plane. Doctor, did she die peacefully?”
“Yes, dear father, I killed her without a pain. The Bloody Black King took her for his own. I implored to just let me kiss her good bye. To my surprise he did. I killed them both rather than see her live a life of shame and constant misery. I could not live and know that she would be his slave, then in her old age be killed by inches.”
“You did right to kill them both; for God made man to protect woman, if it is just—in your case it was, it was just!
“Persus, my child, I came here eagerly to save your life. In three days I will die, for it is my time to go. I heard a voice tell me so. They told me the same again and again. I know it is true. As soon as I am dead your band will put you in a deep trance. They will think we are both dead and put us in one big bag, then throw us together into the Arabian sea. You may have my cross and gold. Your angels will take you out of this trance while in the sea; an old fisherman by the seashore will take you to his home, if you make the sign of the cross; then press his hand three times, firmly.”
The Doctor waited three days and every hour was heaven to them both; they learned so much together. Our dear old seer died just the hour he said he would. Persus got his money, dagger and clothes. Then a little later he heard footsteps in the hall and at the same time felt himself sinking into a trance. He found the old fisherman by the seashore Persus went home with him. Many weary days he spent with the good old seaman recovering from the sickness of the dungeon. Then he went back to the noble Prince of Mandavee and proved his innocence. The good prince of Mandavee took his tribe up the hills of Araville. Persus recaptured his father’s rich mineral possession and gave the prince half of all he had. The Doctor became a famous author, and died a priest in the very temple where he was married. Many hundred years have passed and still his books are read all over the world. The story of Persus has taught the world that many innocent souls have been cast into prison for the sake of their money, then shamefully abused. It is a terrible, cowardly crime to abuse a person deprived of their liberty. If we wrong or abuse others, God will punish us severely later. How beautiful it is to treat humanity lovingly and tenderly at all times. Prince Cresto, with his wife and daughter, met the remainder of his own tribe that escaped from Lytton Springs. The Black King had killed most of Prince Cresto’s men. After experiencing great difficulties we managed to get to Mandavee, then hired a big ship and set out to sea. That night the ship sailed slowly—sailed away from all that was dear to them. They left sunny old India with broken hearts. Their lives would never be safe there after they discovered the gold mine. Big fish eat up the little ones on the hills of India; one king robs the other. There is no such thing as the equality of man there. After a long voyage they rested a few months at the Philippines. They formed classes and taught their religion. Most of the natives believed the same as they did. Later they bought the old ship from the cold-hearted Jew. One man owned as much of the boat as the other did; they were all one family and shared alike. Poor Princess Mara and Sita had charge of the casket, and all the valuable jewels, only half of the jewels had been sold. They left the Jew and his crew on the island and set sail again. The old ship seemed like home then for it was their very own. In a few weeks they came to a narrow neck of land,—that which joins the two Americas,—which was pierced by a narrow strait of water. The two massive rocks that towered above them on either side as they passed through made them feel how infinite God was and how finite man. Scarcely had they passed through safely when a sound deafened them; a noise like a peal of thunder rent the air. The ship trembled like an aspen leaf from prow to stern. They looked back. The mighty rocks had clashed together and filled the strait of water with rocks and gravel. They bowed their heads and thanked God for His love and protection. They sailed on to the Gulf of Mexico and entered the harbor of New Orleans. It was so low there, they left and sailed up the Mississippi river, then up the Escawtawpa. Here they sailed into a raft of logs; the old boat was wrecked, every person sank in an awful storm, excepting two young slaves of the tribe. They have handed this story down from one tribe to another—from father to son to this day.
