e subject.

CHAPTER 3

Legend of the Nerbudda River.

The legend is that the Nerbudda, which flows west into the Gulf of
Cambay, was wooed and won in the usual way by the Son river, which
rises from the same tableland of Amarkantak, and flows east into the
Ganges and Bay of Bengal.[1] All the previous ceremonies having been
performed, the Son [2] came with 'due pomp and circumstance' to fetch
his bride in the procession called the 'Barat', up to which time the
bride and bridegroom are supposed never to have seen each other,
unless perchance they have met in infancy. Her Majesty the Nerbudda
became exceedingly impatient to know what sort of a personage her
destinies were to be linked to, while his Majesty the Son advanced at
a slow and stately pace. At last the Queen sent Johila, the daughter
of the barber, to take a close view of him, and to return and make a
faithful and particular report of his person. His Majesty was
captivated with the little Johila, the barber's daughter, at first
sight; and she, 'nothing loath', yielded to his caresses. Some say
that she actually pretended to be Queen herself; and that his Majesty
was no further in fault than in mistaking the humble handmaid for her
noble mistress; but, be that as it may, her Majesty no sooner heard
of the good understanding between them, than she rushed forward, and
with one foot sent the Son rolling back to the east whence he came,
and with the other kicked little Johila sprawling after him; for,
said the high priest, who told us the story, 'You see what a towering
passion she was likely to have been in under such indignities from
the furious manner in which she cuts her way through the marble rocks
beneath us, and casts huge masses right and left as she goes along,
as if they were really so many coco-nuts'. 'And was she', asked I,
'to have flown eastward with him, or was he to have flown westward
with her?' 'She was to have accompanied him eastward', said the high
priest, 'but her Majesty, after this indignity, declared that she
would not go a single pace in the same direction with such wretches,
and would flow west, though all the other rivers in India might flow
east; and west she flows accordingly, a virgin queen.' I asked some
of the Hindoos about us why they called her 'Mother Nerbudda', if she
was really never married. 'Her Majesty', said they with great
respect, 'would really never consent to be married after the
indignity she suffered from h