BY P. G. SUNDARARAJAN

(1)

The river Vaigai describes a majestic curve just between the two villages of Mettupatti and Nadupatti; the former on the northern bank, so called on account of its raised position, the latter on the southern bank owing its name to the central position it occupied in the district. Groups of mud-houses interspersed with white-washed ones on the northern bank looked down with stolid disdain upon the lowlying but more numerous houses of Nadupatti, which always suffered a disadvantage in times of quarrel. These two villages, though treated as one unit for administrative purposes, were eternal rivals. It is a boast of the villagers of the higher bank that Nadupatti justly suffered from the freshes of the speeding river for having the ‘audacity’ to be the headquarters of the Village Munsiff. But now, temporarily at least, Nadupatti could afford to look, as it did, unflinchingly up at its rival in vengeful contemplation of many a quarrel and stone-throwing; for, the river that ran between them like a streak of lightning parting two black clouds, was one long stretch of burning sand except for a few canals in which the oozing waters traced their lazy course. On either side of the river, the fields looked bare but for the dry stumps evidencing a good harvest.

(2)

It was a bright morning. A group of men sitting under a tree on the southern bank were reviewing with interest the unusual activity going on in the opposite village. The villagers were busy erecting thatched pandals and decorating them with gay flags and festoons. Down by the river in the shallow waters some men could be seen washing a number of bulls. On the sands a crowd of urchins teased a calf and laughed in glee as it capered with upraised tail. A continuous noise of music and tom-tom floated along the sandy bed filling the air with a festive spirit. Straggling lines of carts, cattle and men kept up a stream of movement from Nadupatti, for it was the day of the consecration of the new Mari Amman temple at Mettupatti; what was more, and what accounted for the exultant joy of the urchins, there was going to be a bull-show and bull-fight in honour of the festival.

For long the inhabitants of Mettupatti had been feeling keenly the absence of a good temple for the goddess in their village, while their rival fawning at their feet, as it were, had not only an imposing temple whose tower seemed to frown accusingly at them, but had the place of honour in the annual festival of the region. Small wonder, then, that the people of the higher village seemed to keep up a proud murmur during their preparations. Mettupatti had waited and was now having the unique opportunity of receiving the people of not less than five neighbouring villages. The most important item of the evening, on which they prided themselves, was the display of the prowess of the as yet unconquered bull of Kalimuthu Pillai, the leading personality in the village who was familiarly known on the opposite side as the "Man with the Moustache." And this champion bull was the topic of conversation among the group under the tree.

"They seem to be fully conscious of the importance of the occasion; what excitement! what enthusiasm!" put in an old man biting off a bit of tobacco and safely returning the remainder to the pouch at his side. "But I tell you, these fellows need a lesson. That man with the moustache had the impudence to demand a higher tower for the temple. And now he is challenging everybody to fight his bull. I wonder to what length these fellows would go but for our master's control."

His friends contemplated this for a while. Then one of them spoke, slowly slicing the surface of the earth with his spade: "But you know, those chaps have the upper hand always. Mr. Pillai seems to encourage them too. I think our master is much too indulgent with them."

"It is high time we showed them that the power lies this side of the Vaigai. It is a shame to leave them thus, we having to go to their village for toddy, while they make faces at us. And you, whom we look upon as our adviser," continued a young man angrily addressing the ancient, "always spoil a fight by enjoining patience. Perhaps you will ask us not to raise a finger while the infernal bull tears our Karuppan to pieces, and throw the honour of our village to the winds!"

"Keep quiet, Mayandi," commanded the old man, "we've had enough quarrel due to your impatience. Why, when you started the row last watering time, we might have been killed had not Karuppan been there. We must keep our peace today. Moreover, it is dangerous to fight the bull. What do you say, Karuppa?"

The person thus addressed was a young man of about eight- and-twenty, of light and powerful build who seemed a study in ebony. It was some time before he replied to the old man's question, engaged as he was in making a miniature cart out of dried cholam stalks. He fixed a thorn to hold the forepart of the cart in position and raised his head.

"Mayandi knows that I have already decided to face the bull. I am simply yearning to meet it, seeing that it has not been beaten by anybody."

"Do you mean–are you going to encounter it, alone?" asked the old man in broken words of surprise.

"Of course, it is one of the conditions that only one man should fight the bull at a time. Well, I think the silk and the chain are prizes worthy to be fought for."

"But my dear fellow, you will be killed!" exclaimed the whole group including Mayandi.

"Is it not better than earn the title of cowardice for our village?" was the brief interrogation of Karuppan as he added another horn to the bullock in the toy-cart.

"Look here Karuppa", interrupted the old man sharply, "it is all very well to be sensitive and impetuous, but you should understand that it is not so easy to fight, the animal as is the making of the toy-cart for our master's child. Moreover, where does the honour of the village come in? We are only brothers of the other village and instead of fighting them, we should see our way to help them."

"And make our Karuppan, the champion bull-fighter, yield his trophy to some other fellow!" retorted the irate Mayandi.

"As for that," chimed in another man, "you may rest assured that no one will dare approach the bull within a hundred yards of it. Everybody hereabouts remembers the death of two persons last year by the deadly horns of that beast. The owner must revoke his condition of single combat. Why not we ask him to do so, Karuppa?"

"For the simple reason that I have made up my mind to face it singly," said Karuppan rising. "I am afraid the master will need me. Mayandi, call me when you go that side." With which he left the amazed group of men.

"He was always a bit headstrong," mused the old man. Then: "Well, boys, we must stand by our young fellow and see that there is no foul play this afternoon. But mind, particularly, you Mayandi, that we don't pick up a quarrel with them. Our master will be there. So be careful. This is a sacred day."

"Suppose the beast forgets the rule of the game and turns upon the men as it did last year, what are we to do? Since this is a sacred day we should raise the banner of our goddess high. In case they are up to any dirty work, I have an idea–," went on Mayandi.

"Keep your ideas to yourself. You may go now. See that you are at the master's place early." With an air which showed that he was their accepted leader the old man waved them away and disappeared into a neighbouring grove.

(3)

Meanwhile, Karuppan wended his way to the Village Munsiff's. He was, as others of the group, an unofficial servant of the official, whose ancestors were responsible for the enviable position he now held. It was a well-known fact that he had considerable difficulty over Mettupatti and its leader Kalimuthu Pillai who had a full catalogue of grievances against him, not the least of them being his failure to get a temple built in his village before Nadupatti had the opportunity. Among other things, Kalimuthu Pillai had not forgotten the refusal of the Village Munsiff to prevail upon the Collector to spend a day in Mettupatti. With these, he had championed the cause of his villagers whose hated of those of the lower bank was mutual, and had now come out with a challenge to them to fight his bull which seemed a veritable embodiment of his anger and vengeance. Of late Mr. Pillai used to frequent the Village Munsiff’s and talk about the completion of his temple with much hauteur, never taking his fingers off his moustache, while his other hand ostentatiously handled the wide lace border of his upper-cloth. Needless to say, he was treated with much respect, though the servants hated him from the bottom of their hearts. His shameless attempt to get the old man and Karuppan, the best gardener and the ablest ploughman in the neighbourhood, under his service by offering them a higher salary, strengthened the opinion of Nadupatti villagers. Both the fellows heartily resented his offer. And his failure made Mr. Pillai green with envy and purple with hatred. He showed this in no uncertain terms. Again, his flagrant breach of ceremony in absenting himself from the annual Mari Amman festival at Nadupatti rallied the whole village against him.

As Karuppan neared his master's house, a small boy leaving off playing came running to him with outstretched hands.

"For me!" he exclaimed in incredulous surprise as Karuppan presented him with the toy-cart. "Oh, how beautiful! I must show this to my sister!" and he ran away. Karuppan feeling happy, went to the pen and was attending to the cows when the boy came in with tearful eyes.

"Oh, Karuppa, sister has taken the toy and mother scolds me," he wept.

"Never mind, I will make another one for you," consoled Karuppan.

"No, I don't want a cart. She will take that too. Make a bull for me, Karuppa. I want to fight with it as you do with real bulls."

"Yes, I will. Now run away like a good boy; there is master coming."

As Ramaswamy Iyer, the Village Chief appeared at a distance, the boy fled from the place. Karuppan hastily adjusted the piece of cloth which served as a turban and stood awaiting orders.

"Well, Karuppa, what is it I hear about your fighting the bull over there? Don't you think you had better keep off the function? Why invite quarrel needlessly?"

Karuppan did not reply to these rapid questionings. He regarded a little calf nearby with wistful eyes. He felt his hopes were shattered. After a few moments he began slowly: "If master orders me so-."

"I am not ordering you, my dear fellow. But they say it is rather dangerous. But see that you don't lose your temper, if you must enter the arena. We have to exercise a good deal of restraint while we are there. I wish you good luck." He retired with a slow smile on his lips, for that very morning had Mr. Pillai spoken disparagingly of Karuppan.

Karuppan turned to his work with a proud heart.

(4)

It was a little past midday. The procession escorting the Village Munsiff ‘with family and friends’ crossed the river and ascended the banks of Mettupatti to the accompaniment of nagaswaram and band. After the ceremonial reception, the party was conducted to the terrace of a building where a canopy was put up for the distinguished visitors.

From that eminence the whole village presented an enchanting view. There were enthusiastic people everywhere, occupying positions of vantage. There were men on roofs, on haystacks, on cart-tops, on fences, on branches of trees; children on their parents shoulders, youngsters desperately clinging to cart-wheels, fighting pushing, elbowing for places. Well was Mr. Pillai proud of the occasion as, with a majestic sweep of his hand, he showed the scene to the Village Munsiff. To these reckless human beings who set at nought the fierce heat of the summer sun came vendors selling their wares. There were the sweetmeat sellers who sang the contents of their burden, old women carrying baskets full of ripe melons sturdy men sitting beside heaps of green cocoanuts with sharp knives poised to cut them open. Everywhere there was the hum of animated speech,–discussion about the bull-fight, speculation about the fighter; and, an unaccountable feeling of uneasy tenseness was in the air.

The band stopped playing. From a corner nearby sounded the beat of the rustic drum, the drummers dancing a weird step. All eyes turned towards the spot; the point was tantalizingly quiet for a moment. Then a frightened calf came running, leapt wildly, and increasing its pace, turned back and scudded off in another direction. More and more bulls followed. Some were ferocious, some frightened, and some, with as little interest as their fellow beings, the buffaloes, who basked in the sun down the river utterly indifferent to all this uproar. Many a bold man cast himself in the affray and came out either injured or with a piece of cloth. These men who went, out painted with sandal paste and refreshed by cocoanuts, came back dishevelled and sweating, receiving the applause of the onlookers. Of the group of the faithful men of Nadupatti, only Mayandi led occasional expeditions into the arena, which was by this time a raging chaos with madly careering bulls and devil-may-care fighters. He returned with an assorted variety of torn clothes and broken bell-ropes (from the necks of the bulls), and a momento in the shape of a fractured wrist.

Suddenly there fell a dead silence over the place. People swiftly cleared the path and resumed their places. A whisper went round that the big event of the day was to come off immediately. All eyes turned towards Karuppan who tried hard to suppress his excitement. The old man, Mayandi, and others gave him words of encouragement. People craned their necks. The Village Munsiff had risen and smilingly acknowledged the salute of Karuppan. The ladies present leant over the parapet-wall and gazed with fear, wondering what more terrible thing was in store. The little son of Ramaswamy Iyer shouted something incoherent to Karuppan who smiled back. A wild acclamation rose from the crowd; then, a grim silence, as the sturdy bull appeared round the corner.

It did not run. It came with measued steps and levelled head. The jingling of the bells round its neck, seemed to repeat the challenge. Round its painted horns, one red and the other green, was tied a costly blue silk cloth; and round its neck somewhere under the garland of wild flowers was the gold chain, the prize for the victor. The crowd, however, seemed to be disappointed, for the bull came a few paces, stopped, sniffed the air and grunted utter contempt for the sweltering mass of humanity. Its black skin glinted in the sunlight, and the spots of white on its forehead and sides seemed to scintillate like stars on a moonless night. The people yelled and threw bits of sweet-meats and fruit-peals at the animal. Karuppan advanced. The bull which seemed to be waiting for this move on the part of its antagonist, shook its head in disapproval and moved on increasing its pace. At this Karuppan leapt on the bull and clasped its hump, but the next moment he was flung aside. The bull shook its necklet of bells and dug the earth with its hoofs. Karuppan, infuriated and thrilled by the encouraging shouts of the crowd, closed in upon the bull and attempted to get hold of its horns.

From then people forgot themselves. Some of the ladies on the terrace fainted as man and beast raced along, none knew where. Mad with anger, failing to shake off the aggressor on its back, the savage animal headed towards the river. But Karuppan pulled at the rope encircling its neck and its attempt was thwarted. It reared and plunged, kicked and snorted. Karuppan clung to its back firmly and gave a last tug at the prize-chain. Presently the chain was dangling in his fingers. He caught it between his teeth and stretched his arm to snatch the silk–the last attack in the grim battle. But the instinct of the animal proved itself in that brief interval, for, kicking its hind legs, the bull rushed at headlong speed towards a mud-wall. As the party on the terrace and Kalimuthu Pillai, and the excited crowd of onlookers watched the progress with their hearts in their mouths the maddened bull dashed against the mud-wall throwing the brave fighter high in the air and shattering a portion of the old wall. Karuppan fell with a crash.

His friends rushed to him and found him still biting the chain and holding aloft part of the silk cloth. But two crimson streaks, one upon the right fore-arm and another on the back, showed where the sharp horns had pierced the iron sinews. The spectators, however, were allowed neither to wonder nor to speculate; the beast, assured of victory, dashed towards the prostrate Karuppan.

The time for action had come, so thought, at least, the friends of Karuppan. With a hoarse yell breaking their patient anguish, some of them raised their cudgels and dealt a shower of blows across the horns of the bull, which, snorting with pain retreated, and ran back overturning a melon basket and scattering a heap of cocoanuts. This was too much for Mr. Pillai and his friends. Before the former could try to protest, his followers had rushed on, and a grim fight begun in which all sorts of implements and missiles were freely used.

Stones flew, fast and numerous in all directions, hitting everyone who happened to be in the way. Mr. Pillai had disappeared. The bull was far down the river complacently quenching its thirst, deaf to the raging battle. The people on the terrace took cover near the walls crouching down. The spectators ran like an unloosed menagerie of panic-stricken animals. The few friends of Karuppan were soon reinforced by fresh contingents from their village. They retaliated with stones picked up from the river-bed. In vain did their master shout to them to cease hostilities. He stood up and waved his hands violently; a stone whizzed past his ear missing him narrowly. He plunged down and took cover.

As suddenly as it began the battle of stones stopped. Mayandi, who was absent, strangely enough, till now, came running from the direction of the temple followed by a gesticulating crowd. And what a Mayandi!–with dishevelled hair and reddened countenance dancing with a wild look, chewing a bunch of neem leaves.

"The goddess! The goddess!" went forth the cry, and all was quiet. People crowded round forgetting hostilities.

"We found him near the temple," the priest explained to the Village Munsiff who had come on the scene. "The goddess is upon him-Mari Amman–and she is in great anger for the disorder of the day."

"Yes, disorder! Disorder and disrespect, my children!" cried Mayandi hoarsely. You have fought among yourselves and you," pointing to Mr. Pillai who had come from his hiding place, now there was peace, "you have failed to keep your promise. You did not leave the calf to the temple; you have played with it and made it kill my children. And you have fought with my pet animal!" The last was addressed to Karuppan who, with Mr. Pillai, simultaneously fell prostrate at the feet of Mayandi. The former begged for pardon while the latter expressed remorse and declared that the bull was henceforth the temple's property. And the crowd to one man joined in the supplication with a wild apprehension of small-pox as a result of the goddess's anger. Mayandi swayed from side to side for a while and then fell down. A moment later he recovered consciousness and cried feebly: "O, where am I? what has happened?"

(5)

Early next morning when Karuppan was down by the river, he saw the bull standing in the shallow water and gazing vacantly, evidently contemplating its unexpected freedom, for, now as the holy bull, it had access to every hayrick. Karuppan approached and stroked its forehead. The animal who knew that it had found its superior in Karuppan, brushed its lace against his arm affectionately.

"You seem to have become friends quite soon." It was Mayandi who accosted Karuppan.

"Oh, what a start you gave me, Mayandi? By the way, I want to ask you one thing. Were you really possessed by the goddess yesterday?"

"What a question, brother? Do you think I pretended?" enquired the other innocently.

"Well, I have seen many cases of men being possessed by gods in my time. But it was only yesterday that I found the vehicle of the goddess assume a wild look, and attempt to suppress a smile. Look here, Mayandi, you can't fool me. Were you justified in doing so? Suppose Mari Amman really gets angry with you-."

"Hush! brother, hush!" whispered Mayandi. "Look out, our old man is ambling up to us. What does it matter any way? I have secured a sturdy bull for the goddess. And chief of all, I have stopped hostilities and given the fellows up there a good fright."

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