"'Did you know beforehand that the tiger was going to seize you?'
I asked.
"'I knew that a great danger threatened, and that Siva would not
let me die before my time had come.'
"'Could you see into our future?' I asked.
"The fakir hesitated, looked at me for a moment earnestly to see
if I was speaking in mockery, and then said:
"'The sahibs do not believe in the power of Siva or of his servants..
They call his messengers imposters, and scoff at them when they
speak of the events of the future.'
"'No indeed,' I said. 'My friend and I have no idea of scoffing.
We have heard of so many of your predictions coming true, that we
are really anxious that you should tell us something of the future.'
"The fakir nodded his head, went into the temple, and returned in
a minute or two with two small pipes used by the natives for opium
smoking, and a brazier of burning charcoal. The pipes were already
charged. He made signs to us to sit down, and took his place in
front of us. Then he began singing in a low voice, rocking himself
to and fro, and waving a staff which he held in his hand. Gradually
his voice rose, and his gesticulations and actions became more
violent. So far as I could make out, it was a prayer to Siva that
he would give some glimpse of the future which might benefit the
sahibs who had saved the life of his servant.
Pages:
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218