“There,” said the guide,—a good Hindoo, of course—“there lies the accursed city of Cherooman Rajah!”
Our escort did not require much pressing to ease himself of a little legendary lore. After preparing his mouth for conversation by disposing of as much betel juice as was convenient, he sat down upon the ground near the log of wood occupied by ourselves, and commenced.
“When Cherooman Rajah, the last and most powerful of our foreign governors, apostatizing from the holy faith of his forefathers, received the religion of the stranger, he went forth as a pilgrim to the land of the Arab, and dwelt there for several years.[68]
“Our ruler’s return was signalized by a determination to propagate the new belief throughout Malabar, and unusual success attended upon the well-planned system of persuasion and force adopted by him. Thousands of the slaves, the cultivators and the fishermen, became Moslems, many of the Nairs, some of them men of high rank, and even a few of the Brahmans did not disdain to follow their prince’s example. But the Numboory[69] stood firm in his refusal to turn from the law of Brahma; he not only toiled to counteract the monarch’s influence, but on more than one occasion in solemn procession visited the palace, and denounced a curse upon the Rajah and people of Calicut if the proselytising continued.
“At length the chieftain, irritated by the determined opposition of the priesthood, and urged on by his Arab advisers, swore a mighty oath that he would forcibly convert his arch enemies. The person selected to eat impure meat as a warning to his brethren was the holy Sankaracharya, the high Brahman of the Varkool pagoda.
“Slowly the old man’s tottering frame bowed, and trembling with age, moved down the double line of bearded warriors that crowded the audience-hall. At the further end of the room, upon the cushion of royalty, and surrounded by a throng of foreign counsellors, sat Cherooman, looking like a Rakshasa or Spirit of Evil.
“Few words passed between the Brahman and the ruler. The threats of the latter, and the scoffs of his myrmidons, fell unheeded upon the old priest’s ears.
“‘It is said that a Rajah is a sword in the hand of the Almighty—but thou, Cherooman, art like the assassin’s knife. Since thou art thus determined upon thine own destruction accompany me to the beach, and there, unless before sunset the dread Deity I adore vouchsafe to show thee a sign of his power, I will obey thine unhallowed orders.’
“The Rajah mounted his elephant, and followed by his mufties, his wuzeers, and guardsmen, moved slowly towards the brink of the briny wave. On foot and unattended, propping his faltering footsteps with a sandal wand, the Brahman accompanied the retinue. And all the people of Calicut, whose leaning towards the new faith made them exult in the prospect of conversion being forced upon so revered a personage as the old priest, informed of the event, hurried down in thousands to the shore, and stood there in groups conversing earnestly, and sparing neither jest nor jibe at the contrast between the champions of the two rival faiths.