LXIV
The sun had set on the western margin of the river among the
tangle of the forest.
The hermit boys had brought the cattle home, and sat round the
fire to listen to the master, Guatama, when a strange boy came,
and greeted him with fruits and flowers, and, bowing low at his
feet, spoke in a bird-like voice--"Lord, I have come to thee to
be taken into the path of the supreme Truth.
"My name is Satyak?ma."
"Blessings be on thy head," said the master.
"Of what clan art thou, my child? It is only fitting for a
Brahmin to aspire to the highest wisdom."
"Master," answered the boy, "I know not of what clan I am. I
shall go and ask my mother."
Thus saying, Satyak?ma took leave, and wading across the
shallow stream, came back to his mother's hut, which stood at the
end of the sandy waste at the edge of the sleeping village.
The lamp burnt dimly in the room, and the mother stood at the
door in the dark waiting for her son's return.
She clasped him to her bosom, kissed him on his hair, and asked
him of his errand to the master.
"What is the name of my father, dear mother?" asked the boy.
"It is only fitting for a Brahmin to aspire to the highest
wisdom, said Lord Guatama to me."
The woman lowered her eyes, and spoke in a whisper.
"In my youth I was poor and had many masters.
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