Valley City State University - Viking Yearbook (Valley City, ND)

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- GQQGQ2. 0 I Q K v 5' A Not only was this a violation of the Hindu code, but the whole village had become alarmed, for had not the already meagre growing-season been shortened? Had not Vish- nu in her anger caused the dry season to start two weeks before it should? So it was that on this day, when the hot breath of the sun had caused the last green thing to disappear, Rai Dass was to yield to the letter of the law. l-le was to lose his right hand one span below the elbow. By the time that the group had walked to the pot of tar the village had dragged itself to life. Small urchins that had till now cried fitfully under heat-soaked thatch-roofs now forgot the sun-and their crying too-to show a dull interest in what was to take place. Men and Women, too thin to be affected by heat contributed quietly to the pro- cession. One of the number carried a block of wood, to set it down near the pot of hot tar. l-lere Rai Dass could feel that they were releasing his right hand. They held it high above his head until it became a sickish yellow through lack of blood. Then Rai Dass winced as they drew a cord around his wrist to keep back the How of blood. It was tied tight to mark the distance of one span. Rai Dass did not resist for he had given him- self to an inevitable punishment. Two men of the four placed his right hand palm down on the block of wood, hold- ing it there-immovableg while the other two fixed him in a kneeling position in which there could be no struggling. The sweat ran down the prisoner's back in miniature streams as he Watched the priest pick up the hatchet and raise it in both hands above his head. The villagers crowd- ing around in a circle shut out the hot wind but Rai Dass didn't notice that. l-le was waiting for the hatchet to descend. With breathless speed it came down, pushing its way through the quivering flesh of his arm until it seemed as if the noon sun with all of its burning heat had been jammed into that small opening. Rai Dass wanted to groan his agony but he screamed instead. The first blow was not enough so the priest raised his arms for another. For a moment the prisoner caught a glimpse of pale bone as it grinned mockingly up at him from between parted Walls of flesh. Wlien the hatchet descended the second time, he shut his eyes but he knew without seeing that his right hand had parted from his body. With surprising quickness the four men half dragged, half lifted Rai Dass to the pot of smoking tar-hellish stuff-into which they pushed the stub of his arm. They held it there for an age. If he had known pain before it sank into insignificance now for the bubbling tar, searing the ends of the blood vessels, not only stopped the How of blood, but also made death a welcome alternative. Then he was freed. With a single leap he caught up the useless hand that lay in the dust and pressed it with child-like frenzy against the cooked flesh of his arm hoping that in some way it would adhere in its accustomed place. But this fresh contact only made his agony unbearable so that he Hung it from him as far as he could and sank to the ground in a writhing, groaning mass. Toward evening as the horizon rose to meet the sung a vulture in a poplar tree worked silently over the remains of what was once a human hand. l28 '. !. It-'I

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1 1 r. tl alll' l lb I l l r . r f w M l l ,W Q T l or N l i f 1 1 J N 1 I! X! .. yr . il fl lr fl r lr r fi . iz i 3 , rl l Q' vi ll 'l 'il l r' I l i 1 I . r fl l l it W . ll N I it ,nr Jr pf 5 NLD. ll-.lr ,1,1lj, ll illi- Wt ' hi L , ff-f ,f il l HOT TAR By Harvey Tomlinson, E. B. C. Society fAwarded lirst place, lntersociety Original Short-Story Contestj A vulture Hew over the little village. Below, clean bornes licked white by the dhobi's dog had been drying since early forenoon under the hot Indian sun. With creaking wings the vulture returned to its poplar tree. The day had advanced a little past noon bringing with it that tropical heat that penetrates unmercifully all attempts to shut it out. It had not rained for three weeks and the lou, like a hot blast from the furnace, carried on a withering process that had begun already to give the plains a desert sternness. The shellacked leaves of the poplar trees rustled in much the same manner as they did yesterday-or last week, except that the dry, grating sound was becoming more pronounced. At one end of the village and not far from the well, three water-buffaloes, wallowing lazily in a pool of mud, settled them- selves deeper into the luke-warm Huid, leaving as they did so and as they had done yes- terday and the week before, only their black heads joined to the thin ridges of their backs, open to the attacks of the sun and flies. ln the village, no one thought of work. It was enough to lie on one's back and breathe. Still the village street was not entirely deserted. A few lean bodies ,brown and naked to the waist, moved in the shade of projecting thatch roofs. And as they moved, seeming not to notice the heat or to be uncomfortable in it, they showed but little more than a stolid interest toward one end of the street where hung from a tripod a large pot half-full of tar. A young girl poked coals under it until it bubbled a little-hellish stuff- until it burdened the air with a rancid odor. The sun had traveled nearly an hour past noon before there came from one of the mud huts a group of five men. As they walked down the street they formed a square, one man at each corner, completely surrounding the fifth man. This fifth man, Rai Dass, with his arms bound to his sides was treated in much the same manner as a prisoner would have been. And why not? Did not his offense call for a severe punishment? Had not his guilt been proved to the satisfaction of the priest? Three weeks and a day it had been since Rai Dass in a fit of anger had killed the sacred cow. It had repeatedly made inroads into his small patch of green things, his only source of food for the coming dry seasong and Rai Dass had repeatedly driven it off by throwing stones at it. But stones had lost their power of persuasion and Rai Dass, determined to be bothered by that cow for the last time and aggravated further by the thought of a scantier crop than usual, had been unable to control his anger. He had used his sickle. It had gone deep, behind the right shoulder. He had broken the pact of alliance that Vishnu had decreed should exist between man and beast. Self preservation to him had become more important than his religion. He had burned at the thought of giving that animal the freedom of his field when as a consequence he would he forced to go to a neighboring city to beg during the dry season, or follow the jungle along the river to get his food with ubandar-log. l27

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FRANCIS MEMORIAL ORATORIAL CONTEST A May 20, 1924 The Significance of Good Roads , First P1060 Grace Farley, Jamestown The Lost Million 50501111 Place Raymond Gregerson, Lake Park, Minn. Shall We Mobilize? Third P11100 Adelhert Botts, Frazee, Minn. Bird Preservation Alfred Koenecke, Lisbon The Mission of Gandhi Harvey Tomlinson, Oriska Woodrow Wilson, the Statesman Minnie Anderson, Starkweather Keeping Home Economics in the High School Curriculum Eleanor Ornburg, Warroad, Minn. 129