“But the teachers do not tell you this without proof.”
“Where is the proof?”
“In the beautiful world, where all things are given for our good, and where the wicked are unhappy.”
“Who do you call wicked?”
“Those who commit sin,” replied May.
“Sin!” said Zoonah, after examining the ground,—“sin means pleasing one’s self.”
Before May could answer, Zoonah went on: “You cannot believe in the existence of what you cannot see.”
“You do not see the wind,” interposed May. Zoonah went on in his own language, May translating sentence by sentence.
“You cannot take the word of one man, whom you have never seen nor heard,” answered the cunning Kafir, “against the wishes of all men. The invisible God you talk of says, ‘Obey me, and do nothing that pleases yourself.’ The visible man says, ‘Enjoy earth, and all that belongs to it, and be happy.’ On one side is a chance of another world if we punish ourselves in this; on the other is pleasure, ease, and our own will, under laws made for man by man. You English have a woman chief; even she never sees the God you speak of. You know not even whether he is black or white.”
At this point, Ormsby, who had drawn near, burst into a thoughtless and irreverent laugh, and Zoonah, at this, satisfied that he had the best of the argument, rose, and wrapping his kaross around him, ascended the bank, and followed the cattle to the outspan.