arefully placed, and started for the blacksmith's shop. But on
the way he met his brother, who stopped him, and the following
altercation ensued, as given in Daniel's own words: "What is that you
have got in the box? and where are you going with it?" said my brother.
I replied, "O, nothing in particular." But he would not allow me to
proceed without his looking into the box and having a plain answer to
his question. I therefore said, "Brother, as our people have been
accustomed to worship these old swords, I think they had better be made
into some proper shape. I am therefore taking them to the blacksmith,
that he may put them into his fire and make an idol of them." My
brother, on hearing this, was quite shocked, and said, "Do you mean to
say that you are going to break up these sacred relics, which have been
handed down to us from our heroic forefathers? I think you are mad. I
will go immediately to our father and tell him what you are doing." So
saying he went home in great anger, and I went on to the blacksmith.
When I arrived at his shop, I found several men outside waiting to get
something done to their agricultural implements, and they all looked at
me very enquiringly. I said nothing, but put down my box of swords, and
sat upon it. At length the blacksmith said: "Well, Chickka, what have
you come for? What have you got in that box?" I opened the box and
shewed him the swords. On seeing them he said, "What have you brought
these things here for?" I replied, "These old swords have been
occasionally worshipped as gods in our family; but I don't see that any
benefit can be obtained by worshipping such things; in their present
shape they are useless; I think they may be made into something useful.
I have therefore brought them here for you to make ploughshares of
them." As soon as I had uttered these words, all the farmers present
seemed terrified, and one man exclaimed, "If you do this, your family
will never prosper; these are gods." I said, "Very well, we will see
whether they are gods or not, we will give them a fair trial. We will
put them into the fire, and if they are gods they will jump out: and if
they are not gods they will melt like common iron: let us see." The
blacksmith did what I wished. He made one ploughshare immediately, and
the others afterwards. The lookers-on said nothing, but they doubtless
expected some dreadful calamity would happen to me. When my father
heard what I had don