Omed and Ramke

“Omed and Ramke, whose home was in the northeast corner of the hills, were devotedly attached to each other, though in temperament very unlike. Omed was the natural leader, impetuous and forceful; Ramke was of a meditative and docile spirit. As the elder by six or eight years, and uncle of Ramke, Omed exercised a certain right of protection and guardianship. This was the more necessary as Ramke early lost his father, and was not a favorite with the man his mother subsequently married.

“...Both were in deep dread of demons. But the younger felt a sharper fear than the elder as he thought of the unseen evil presences all about him. His boyish hands were forever busy smoothing little places of sacrifice and smearing them with the blood of tiny feathered creatures which he had trapped or speared; and believing as he tells us, ‘that certain persons turn into tigers and kill and swallow men, if it was said that that man was such an one, I feared him very much.’” (p. 53)

“One day in 1847 news was circulated at the market that the Government wanted boys for a school at Goalpara, and would feed, clothe and teach them, and, of course, turn them out great men. The word spread to the villages above, and soon Omed with his nephew Reban and two others, Ramsing and Jongrin, were en route to Goalpara. Ramke, to his great disappointment, could not join them. Only a week or two before he had fallen from a tree and broken his arm, twice at the shoulder and once at the wrist. The pain and loss of blood were very great; and when the other boys started for school he was still unable to move or bend his arm.

“The day of the start from Watrepara, their home, was one of great excitement. The parents had many misgivings, but the lads were highly elated because of their great adventure. Omed was over twenty, the others twelve and thirteen....

“They found the large institution filled with Hindu, Rabha, and Mohammedan boys, studying English, Bengali, and Persian. When Omed introduced himself and his squad, Pentu Sahib, the master, said: ‘You are too old, you had better go home; the others may stay.’ But the others chimed in, ‘If he can’t stay, we won’t,’ and that settled it; Omed being retained to look after the younger boys. They soon discovered that six Garos from another village had already been admitted.. One of these, Gongaram, was ordained in after years. At sunset, two bottles of liquor were divided among them, and they were encouraged to dance and sing as a cure for homesickness.” (p. 54-55)

Six months later Ramke, disabled by his broken arm for labor in the fields, was allowed to accompany Reban’s father on a visit to the school. He was delighted with what he saw, and begged hard to be admitted, but the teacher was unwilling. Then up spoke Omed, pleading that his arm was no hindrance to his head, and that the rest would share their rations with him until permission for him to stay was granted by the deputy commissioner, who thought that there were already too many boys from one village. Omed continued to press his suit, and in the end, Ramke’s name was added to the roll.

“Two years went by with no apparent progress. At length Omed and Ramke went boldly up to Lieutenant Agnew’s bungalow on the top of the hill, and declared that if they stayed in the school twenty years, under such a teacher, they would never learn. The pundit [teacher] was called into the ‘presence’and instantly dismissed. The next man appointed soon won the affection of the boys. ‘He taught us splendidly,’ they said. ‘We shall praise him till death.

“After a while it was thought advisable to enlarge their ideas by taking them in a [steamboat] at Government expense, to visit Gauhati. A regiment of sepoys [native policemen or soldiers] was stationed there, and proved a great attraction to the boys. Jongrin and Ronja enlisted, and Omed was asked to join, but refused. While he was hiring a boat to take them back to Goalpara, a native officer called him, and asked his name. When he had given it, and answered some other questions, the officer said, ‘Now you have given your name, you are a sepoy,’ making the youth feel that dire penalties would be visited upon him if he withheld consent. Caught by this trick, though, perhaps, not altogether unwillingly, Omed became a sepoy, and stayed behind at Gauhati, while Ramke went back to school.” (p. 56)