And while I prayed, still
keeping my lookout, a big wave came and threw me forward upon the
ring of the great black bowanchor, and the Rewah rose high and high,
leaning towards the lefthand side, and the water drew away from
beneath her nose, and I lay upon my belly, holding the ring, and
looking down into those great deeps. Then I thought, even in the
face of death: If I lose hold I die, and for me neither the Rewah nor
my place by the galley where the rice is cooked, nor Bombay, nor
Calcutta, nor even London, will be any more for me. 'How shall I be
sure,' I said, that the Gods to whom I pray will abide at all?' This
I thought, and the Rewah dropped her nose as a hammer falls, and all
the sea came in and slid me backwards along the fo'c'sle and over
the break of the fo'c'sle, and I very badly bruised my shin against
the donkey-engine: but I did not die, and I have seen the Gods.
They are good for live men, but for the dead . . . They have spoken
Themselves. Therefore, when I come to the village I will beat the
guru for talking riddles which are no riddles. When Brahm ceases to
dream the Gods go."
"Look up-stream. The light blinds.
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