A Sahib's Daughter Read Online Free PDF

a short distance from the house. There he met the cook, who wore a threadbare vest and sarong and was sweating profusely in the heat given off by the Aga range. Apart from a dilapidated sink and a small, mesh cupboard, there was little else in the room. Food was stored in the pantry at the back of the house, which was just as well, given the intense heat of the kitchen.
    Lunch was an Indian curry, a dish he had first tasted on the train. Fragrant and spicy, it had been served in metal bowls with a dollop of rice on the side. Here it was served in white porcelain china on the polished mahogany dining table. Charles communicated with the servants in nods, gestures and the occasional word, realizing that he would quickly have to learn Hindi.
    After lunch, he pedaled back to the factory feeling the full force of the afternoon sun bearing down on him. He stopped, fascinated, to watch coolie women picking tea. They were dressed in gaudy costumes with blouses that revealed bare, brown midriffs and scrawny breasts. Their earrings, nose rings, bangles and anklets clinked and jingled as they moved. They swiftly and skillfully picked leaves off the tops of the bushes, chattering and singing as they worked.
    He heard the cry of a child and saw in a shady clearing an improvised “crèche” where babies lay in wicker baskets. Small children scampered and played around them. His mind went back to the women in the office at Kings Cross. They, too, wore jewelry to work, although nothing nearly as flamboyant as these women were wearing. In London they were not permitted to sing and chatter as they worked and most certainly didn’t have their babies and children close by.
    In the afternoon Greg drove Charles around the plantation.
    “We have a workforce of about twelve-hundred, so it’s important to take charge and make a show of strength. Any sign of indecision is seen as weakness. Some workers are rather tough to deal with, and it is getting more difficult these days with laborers making increased demands. They’re not as unsophisticated as they used to be, which the Dooars Tea Company is notoriously slow to recognize.”
    “Look between those trees.” He pointed to a section of jungle. “A tiger was spotted there last week. Normally, they avoid humans as much as we avoid them, but occasionally they get hungry. And once you have a man-eater on your hands, you’re in serious trouble.”
    “Are they protected in any way, the tigers, I mean?”
    “Not nearly enough. They are widely hunted for their skins and for various medical remedies. It’s the same with elephants. Such a tragedy! We used to have to carry a weapon any time we were in, or close to, the jungle, which is no longer the case. Do you have a gun?”
    “I don’t…yet,” said Charles. “But I understand there are opportunities to hunt in these parts.”
    “Absolutely. We hunt wild boar and deer mostly, which are not endangered in any way, and also wood pigeon, pheasant and duck. If you’re interested, you’re welcome to join me on shikar. I have to warn you, though. It can be grueling out there in the jungle what with the heat and mosquitoes.”
    “Count me in,” said Charles. “It’s just one of the reasons I wanted to come to India.”
    “By the way, my wife asked if you would like to come to dinner tonight, nothing fancy, just a chance to become acquainted.”
    “Thanks very much. I’d be delighted,” replied Charles.
    “I’ll send the driver to pick you up around seven. Casual dress is fine. We’re pretty informal around here.”
    When he bicycled to his bungalow later that afternoon, he was served tea with hot buttered toast and jam. After tea, he realized that his bearer was asking him for money for provisions.
    “Rupees, Sahib. Stores,” said Jetha, his bearer. “Bazaar.”
    “Yes, of course,” said Charles. He reached for his wallet. “How much?”
    He had no idea of the value of money in this country or what it would cost to feed himself.