tion and boasts about twenty young men who decided to openly declare their faith in Bahá’u’lláh regardless of consequences. Muḥammad Eunoos, a blessed old believer, had been expelled by the mulla and told not to return. But when Muḥammad Eunoos learned of my arrival in Mandalay he accompanied me to this village of Kyigon, Burma. We had to ride some miles in an ox-cart, sitting cross-legged on straw matting. News had already reached the village of the visit of a Western believer, so when we arrived the following day the whole place had been polished and not one stroke of work was done that day. The entire population turned out to hear about the new Teachings. I sat up among trees in the most attractive bamboo house built high on stilts, while the audience jostled each other for a place to sit.
The meeting continued through the entire day. During the hot afternoon a mullá arrived and inquired, “What is she talking about up there?” Fortunately the chief official of the village was a Buddhist and very friendly. He had called on us early in the morning and offered a cordial greeting. He told the mullá that the lady was talking about God and that if he remained he would have to be courteous and only ask civil questions after the meeting like the others. He was quite disturbed, but when they said, “The lady is a great friend of the Governor of Burma, Sir Harcourt Butler,” he soon took himself elsewhere and we went on in peace.
Later in the day three young men came forward in the utmost simplicity and knelt at my feet and said, “We accept Bahá’u’lláh as the Prophet of God today.” Others became believers also. It was very touching to see their dear old teacher Muḥammad Eunoos take each by the hand and kiss them on each cheek, and then like an initiation ceremony, kiss each on the forehead, with the look of love in his dear old face. This great teacher once built a Mosque when he was a follower of the Islámic faith, and had it confiscated, together with every bit of property he ever had, when he became a believer in the new Manifestation, Bahá’u’lláh. Now he is happy in his poverty, and in his freedom to uphold the Divine Standards of today.
In conclusion perhaps it will be of interest to Bahá’ís to know that I am writing this article while en-route to visit the Prince who was so splendidly sympathetic to Mrs. Lua Getsinger, Bahá’í teacher and lecturer, when she visited India several years ago. It was not at all surprising to learn that they always refer to Mrs. Getsinger in these parts as “St. Lua.”
Picture me here in this queer village, a way-station, as it were, for those who go on hunting expeditions after tigers! The village is really locked up at night and all passes closed to tigers, but I am told that tigers are always lurking near these barriers and sometimes find an entry. Here I wait for the next eleven hours until the arrival of the main line train which will carry me on to Jhalrapatan, where the Maharaja of Jhalawar has his State.
A tiny lamp flickers over my shoulder from an improvised mantelpiece and two coolie boys alternate in pulling the punka over my head that I may breathe sufficiently to get through the night, for I am experiencing the “boiling heat” of April days and nights in India. The babble of native curiosity is without and many unseen eyes are gazing upon this unusual activity. An Indian night with its native perfume pervades the place and even in desert waste of insecure footing there is a remarkable atmosphere of genuine reality. Possibly this is the reason for my preference for the East and its associations rather than the West with its civilization. Outside of my door is the Muḥammadan upon his tiny prayer-rug in respectful reverence to Muḥammad; the Hindu also near-by looking hopeful that his meditation is being heard by the long-departed Krishna.
Hope and happiness reign supreme in my heart during my unexpected stay in