the ninth vibration-第22部分

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ilgrimage　there　is　some　bond　between　us　and　some　rebirth　where　we　may　met　again。〃

〃I　will　tell　you　that　also　before　we　part。　I　have　grown　to　believe　that　you　do　love　me　…　and　therefore　love　something　which　is　infinitely　above　me。〃

〃And　do　you　love　me　at　all？　Am　I　nothing；　Vanna　…　Vanna？〃

〃My　friend；〃　she　said；　and　laid　her　hand　on　mine。

A　silence；　and　then　she　spoke；　very　low。

〃You　must　be　prepared　for　very　great　change；　Stephen；　and　yet　believe　that　it　does　not　really　change　things　at　all。　See　how　even　the　gods　pass　and　do　not　change！　The　early　gods　of　India　are　gone　and　Shiva；　Vishnu；　Krishna　have　taken　their　places　and　are　one　and　the　same。　The　old　Buddhist　stories　say　that　in　heaven　〃The　flowers　of　the　garland　the　God　wore　are　withered；　his　robes　of　majesty　are　waxed　old　and　faded；　he　falls　from　his　high　estate；　and　is　re…born　into　a　new　life。〃　But　he　lives　still　in　the　young　God　who　is　born　among　men。　The　gods　cannot　die；　nor　can　we　nor　anything　that　has　life。　Now　I　must　go　in。

I　sat　long　in　the　moonlight　thinking。　The　whole　camp　was　sunk　in　sleep　and　the　young　dawn　was　waking　upon　the　peaks　when　I　turned　in。

The　days　that　were　left　we　spent　in　wandering　up　the　Lidar　River　to　the　hills　that　are　the　first　ramp　of　the　ascent　to　the　great　heights。　We　found　the　damp　corners　where　the　mushrooms　grow　like　pearls　…　the　mushrooms　of　which　she　said　…　〃To　me　they　have　always　been　fairy　things。　To　see　them　in　the　silver…grey　dew　of　the　early　mornings　…　mysteriously　there　like　the　manna　in　the　desert　…　they　are　elfin　plunder；　and　as　a　child　I　was　half　afraid　of　them。　No　wonder　they　are　the　darlings　of　folklore；　especially　in　Celtic　countries　where　the　Little　People　move　in　the　starlight。　Strange　to　think　they　are　here　too　among　strange　gods！〃

We　climbed　to　where　the　wild　peonies　bloom　in　glory　that　few　eyes　see；　and　the　rosy　beds　of　wild　sweet　strawberries　ripen。　Every　hour　brought　with　it　some　new　delight；　some　exquisiteness　of　sight　or　of　words　that　I　shall　remember　for　ever。　She　sat　one　day　on　a　rock；　holding　the　sculptured　leaves　and　massive　seed…vessels　of　some　glorious　plant　that　the　Kashmiris　believe　has　magic　virtues　hidden　in　the　seeds　of　pure　rose　embedded　in　the　white　down。

〃If　you　fast　for　three　days　and　eat　nine　of　these　in　the　Night　of　No　Moon；　you　can　rise　on　the　air　light　as　thistledown　and　stand　on　the　peak　of　Haramoukh。　And　on　Haramoukh；　as　you　know　it　is　believed；　the　gods　dwell。　There　was　a　man　here　who　tried　this　enchantment。　He　was　a　changed　man　for　ever　after；　wandering　and　muttering　to　himself　and　avoiding　all　human　intercourse　as　far　as　he　could。　He　was　no　Kashmiri　…　A　Jat　from　the　Punjab；　and　they　showed　him　to　me　when　I　was　here　with　the　Meryons；　and　told　me　he　would　speak　to　none。　But　I　knew　he　would　speak　to　me；　and　he　did。〃

〃Did　he　tell　you　anything　of　what　he　had　seen　in　the　high　world　up　yonder？〃

〃He　said　he　had　seen　the　Dream　of　the　God。　I　could　not　get　more　than　that。　But　there　are　many　people　here　who　believe　that　the　Universe　as　we　know　it　is　but　an　image　in　the　dream　of　Ishvara；　the　Universal　Spirit　…　in　whom　are　all　the　gods　…　and　that　when　He　ceases　to　dream　we　pass　again　into　the　Night　of　Brahm；　and　all　is　darkness　until　the　Spirit　of　God　moves　again　on　the　face　of　the　waters。　There　are　few　temples　to　Brahm。　He　is　above　and　beyond　all　direct　worship。〃

〃Do　you　think　he　had　seen　anything？〃

〃What　do　I　know？　Will　you　eat　the　seeds？　The　Night　of　No　Moon　will　soon　be　here。〃

She　held　out　the　seed…vessels；　laughing。　I　write　that　down　but　how　record　the　lovely　light　of　kindliness　in　her　eyes　…　the　almost　submissive　gentleness　that　yet　was　a　defense　stronger　than　steel。　I　never　knew　…　how　should　I？　…　whether　she　was　sitting　by　my　side　or　heavens　away　from　me　in　her　own　strange　world。　But　always　she　was　a　sweetness　that　I　could　not　reach；　a　cup　of　nectar　that　I　might　not　drink；　unalterably　her　own　and　never　mine；　and　yet　…　my　friend。

She　showed　me　the　wild　track　up　into　the　mountains　where　the　Pilgrims　go　to　pay　their　devotions　at　the　Great　God's　shrine　in　the　awful　heights；　regretting　that　we　were　too　early　for　that　most　wonderful　sight。　Above　where　we　were　sitting　the　river　fell　in　a　tormented　white　cascade；　crashing　arid　feathering　into　spray…dust　of　diamonds。　An　eagle　was　flying　above　it　with　a　mighty　spread　of　wings　that　seemed　almost　double…jointed　in　the　middle　…　they　curved　and　flapped　so　wide　and　free。　The　fierce　head　was　outstretched　with　the　rake　of　a　plundering　galley　as　he　swept　down　the　wind；　seeking　his　meat　from　God；　and　passed　majestic　from　our　sight。　The　valley　beneath　us　was　littered　with　enormous　boulders　spilt　from　the　ancient　hollows　of　the　hills。　It　must　have　been　a　great　sight　when　the　giants　set　them　trundling　down　in　work　or　play！　…　I　said　this　to　Vanna；　who　was　looking　down　upon　it　with　meditative　eyes。　She　roused　herself。

〃Yes；　this　really　is　Giant…Land　up　here　…　everything　is　so　huge。　And　when　they　quarrel　up　in　the　heights　…　in　Jotunheim　…　and　the　black　storms　come　down　the　valleys　it　is　like　colossal　laughter　or　clumsy　boisterous　anger。　And　the　Frost　giants　are　still　at　work　up　there　with　their　great　axes　of　frost　and　rain。　They　fling　down　the　side　of　a　mountain　or　make　fresh　ways　for　the　rivers。　About　sixty　years　ago　…　far　above　here　…　they　tore　down　a　mountain　side　and　damned　up　the　mighty　Indus；　so　that　for　months　he　was　a　lake；　shut　back　in　the　hills。　But　the　river　giants　are　no　less　strong　up　here　in　the　heights　of　the　world；　and　lie　lay　brooding　and　hiding　his　time。　And　then　one　awful　day　he　tore　the　barrier　down　and　roared　down　the　valley　carrying　death　and　ruin　with　him；　and　swept　away　a　whole　Sikh　army　among　other　unconsidered　trifles。　That　must　have　been　a　soul…shaking　sight。〃

She　spoke　on；　and　as　she　spoke　I　saw。　What　are　her　words　as　I　record　them？　Stray　dead　leaves　pressed　in　a　book　…　the　life　and　grace　dead。　Yet　I　record；　for　she　taught　me　what　I　believe　the　world　should　learn；　that　the　Buddhist　philosophers　are　right　when　they　teach　that　all　forms　of　what　we　call　matter　are　really　but　aggregates　of　spiritual　units；　and　that　life　itself　is　a　curtain　hiding　reality　as　the　vast　veil　of　day　conceals　from　our　sight　the　countless　orbs　of　space。　So　that　the　purified　mind　even　while　prisoned　in　the　body；　may　enter　into　union　with　the　Real　and；　according　to　attainment；　see　it　as　it　is。

She　was　an　interpreter　because　she　believed　this　truth　profoundly。　She　saw　the　spiritual　essence　beneath　the　lovely　illusion　of　matter；　and　the　air　about　her　was　radiant　with　the　motion　of　strange　forces　for　which　the　dull　world　has　many　names　aiming　indeed　at　the　truth；　but　falling　…　O　how　far　short　of　her　calm　perception！　She　was　indeed　of　a　Household　higher　than　the　Household　of　Faith。　She　had　received　enlightenment。　She　beheld　with　open　eyes。

Next　day　our　camp　was　struck　and　we　turned　our　faces　again　to　Srinagar　and　to　the　day　of　parting。　I　set　down　but　one　strange　incident　of　our　journey；　of　which　I　did　not　speak　even　to　her。

We　were　camping　at　Bijbehara；　awaiting　our　house　boat；　and　the　site　was　by　the　Maharaja's　lodge　above　the　little　town。　It　was　midnight　and　I　was　sleepless　…　the　shadow　of　the　near　future　was　upon　me。　I　wandered　down　to　the　lovely　old　wooded　bridge　across　the　Jhelum；　where　the　strong　young　trees　grow　up　from　the　piles。　Beyond　it　the　moon　was　shining　on　the　ancient　Hindu　remains　close　to　the　new　temple；　and　as　I　stood　on　the　bridge　I　could　see　the　figure　of　a　man　in　deepest　meditation　by　the　ruins。　He　was　no　European。　I　saw　the　straight　dignified　folds　of　the　robes。　But　it　was　not　surprising　he　should　be　there　and　I　should　have　thought　no　more　of　it；　had　I　not　heard　at　that　instant　from　the　further　side　of　the　river　the　music　of　the　Flute。　I　cannot　hope　to　describe　that　music　to　any　who　have　not　heard　it。　Suffice　it　to　say　that　where　it　calls　he　who　hears　must　follow　whether　in　the　body　or　the　spirit。　Nor　can　I　now　tell　in　which　I　followed。　One　day　it　will　call　me　across　the　River　of　Death；　and　I　shall　ford　it　or　sink　in　the　immeasurable　depths　and　either　will　be　well。

But　immediately　I　was　at　the　other　side　of　the　river；　standing　by　the　stone　Bull　of　Shiva　where　he　kneels　before　the　Symbol；　and　looking　steadfastly　upon　me　a　few　paces　away　was　a　man　in　the　dress　of　a　Buddhist　monk。　He　wore　the　yellow　robe　that　leaves　one　shoulder　bare；　his　head　was　bare　also　and　he　held　in　one　hand　a　small　bowl　like　a　stemless　chalice。　I　knew　I　was　seeing　a　very　strange　inexplicable　sight　…　one　that　in　Kashmir　should　be　incredible；　but　I　put　wonder　aside　for　I　knew　now　that　I　was　moving　in　the　sphere　where　the　incredible　may　well　be　the　actual。　His　expression　was　of　the　most　unbroken　calm。　If　I　compare　it　to　the　passionless　gaze　of　the　Sphinx　I　misrepresent；　for　the　Riddle　of　the　Sphinx　still　awaits　solution；　but　in　this　face　was　a　noble　acquiescence　and　a　content　that　had　it　vibrated　must　have　passed　into　joy。

Words　or　their　equivalent　passed　between　us。　I　felt　his　voice。

〃You　have　heard　the　music　of　the　Flute？〃

〃I　have　heard。〃

〃What　has　it　given？〃

〃A　consuming　longing。〃

〃It　is　the　music　of　the　Eternal。　The　creeds　and　the　faiths　are　the　words　that　men　have　set　to　that　melody。　Listening；　it　will　lead　you　to　Wisd