Chapter Thirty Five

By degrees the tidings spread amongst the Children that Satyananda had come, and that he had certain matter to lay before them, and that he had summoned them all. Then in band upon band the brotherhood of the Children began to gather upon the bank of the river. On that moonlit night, beside the sandy shore, within a vast forest adorned with mango and jack and palm and tamarind and pipal and bel and banyan and silk-cotton trees, in that great wilderness, ten thousand Children were gathered.

Then all hearing from one another the news of Satyananda's coming raised a mighty tumult. Wherefore he had gone and whither, the common sort knew not. The rumour was that, for the welfare of the Children, he had departed unto the Himalayas to perform austerities. Now they began to whisper, "The Maharaj hath achieved the fruit of his penance — ours shall be the sovereignty!" Then a great clamour arose.

Some cried aloud, "Strike, strike, slay the shaven-pates!" Some said, "Victory, victory! Victory to the Maharaj!" Some sang, "Hare Murare, slayer of Madhu and Kaitabha!" Some sang, "Bande Mataram!" Some said, "Brother, shall such a day be ours, that we, mere Bengalis though we be, shall lay down these bodies upon the field of battle?" Some said, "Brother, shall such a day be ours, that we may break down the mosque and rear upon it the temple of Radha-Madhava?" Some said, "Brother, shall such a day be ours, that we shall ourselves enjoy our own wealth?" The murmur of ten thousand human voices, the rustling of leaf upon leaf as the sweet wind passed amongst the trees, the soft murmuring lap of the wave upon the sand, in the blue sky moon and stars and white masses of cloud, upon the dark earth the green forest, the clear river, the white sand, the blossoming garlands of flowers.

And amid all, that sweet sound, ravishing to every heart — "Bande Mataram!" Satyananda came and stood in the midst of that gathered host of Children.

Then those ten thousand heads of the Children, gleaming in the moonbeams that fell through the breaks in the trees, bowed down upon the dark grassy ground. In a voice exceeding loud, with eyes full of tears, lifting up both his arms on high, Satyananda said, "He that beareth the conch and the discus and the mace and the lotus, the wearer of the wood-garland, Lord of Vaikuntha, slayer of Keshi, the crusher of Madhu and Mura and Naraka, the protector of the worlds, may he bless you, may he give strength to your arms, devotion to your hearts, set your minds upon duty; do ye now sing once the glory of him." Then in a thousand throats, raised on high, the song burst forth:

"Glory to thee, O Lord of the Universe, O Hari! In the waters of the deluge thou didst uphold the Vedas, Bearing the form of a boat through that vast travail, Keshava, thou who didst assume the form of the Fish, Glory to thee, O Lord of the Universe, O Hari!"

Satyananda blessed them again and said, "O Children, this day I have a special matter to lay before you. One Thomas by name, an infidel of evil soul, hath destroyed many of the Children. This night with his soldiery shall we slay him. It is the bidding of the Lord of the Universe — what say ye?"

A terrible cry of "Hari" rent the forest. "Even now will we slay him — where are they? Lead us forth and show!" "Strike! Strike! Strike down the foe!" Such cries echoed from the distant hills. Then Satyananda said, "For that we must use somewhat of patience. The enemy hath cannon — without cannon there can be no battle with them. Moreover they are a mighty warlike race. From the fort of Padachinna seventeen pieces of cannon are upon their way; when the cannon have come, then shall we march to war. See, the dawn is breaking — when four dandas of the day be passed — but what is this?"

"Boom! — boom! — boom!" On a sudden, on all sides round about that vast forest, the roar of cannon began to thunder. The cannon were the English. Like fishes caught in a net, Captain Thomas had ringed the Children about in this mango-grove and made ready to slay them.