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Subro had a small, flat boat called a shikara. He kept it tied to his houseboat. It was long and narrow, pointed at the ends, and lay close to the water. Instead of oars, it had long-handled paddles with heart-shaped ends. Subro used it to visit his friends on other houseboats or to go to the city of Srinagar. Usually he paddled it himself, but when he was in a hurry he took his brothers Ibrahim and Ramzana to help him.
This morning he was taking his son. When Rhamon came out he jumped down into the back end of the shikara beside his father. Taking up their paddles they worked together with long quick strokes. Each stroke ended with a jerk that shot the boat forward through the water.
Rhamon made up his mind that when he was a man he would have his very own shikara—a splendid big one with fine carving, soft cushions inside and a place for six oarsmen.
On their way down the river they passed boats of every description. There were shikaras like their own, skimming swiftly over the water, merchant boats, dugouts loaded with vegetables, slow-gliding grain barges, and some being poled along by a man or woman who stood balancing far out on the tip.
Rhamon enjoyed these trips with his father to Srinagar. There was much to see and do there, and today he had a few annas to spend for sweets in the bazaars. Subro took his bubbling water pipe with him, for he was sure to meet
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his friends in the city. They would smoke and visit together before he returned.
Rhamon had his friends too. First he went to see Aziz, the old shoemaker, who had the little shop on the corner. Aziz made beautiful red leather slippers with curving pointed toes. Rhamon loved the nice leathery smell and the smooth feel of the big, colored skins that hung on the wall. He stayed a long time with the old man, listening to the stories he wove as he made wonderful patterns on a pair of shoes.
"These are for our great Rajah, the King," said Aziz, holding up the slippers and looking at them proudly. "He is coming here soon to his summer palace. There will be a great celebration in his honor. People will take him gifts of welcome. And these shall be my present. Allah be praised!"
The Rajah coming! The great King who lived in the beautiful palace! Rhamon stood silent. All his life he had heard of the Rajah. He wished he might see him—just once.
As Rhamon turned to limp from the shop, the old shoemaker smiled at him. "Some day," he said, "I shall make you a pair of slippers, and not even a king shall have a better pair!"
Before Subro returned to his home, he took Rhamon to the house of Subhanna, a rich merchant who lived down the river. The upper floors of Subhanna's big house hung out over the water and when Rhamon leaned from the high windows, he could see all that was happening on the water below.
Subhanna made beautiful articles out of silver. But he sold many other things besides the ones he made himself. There were shelves and shelves of bells, big elephant bells that made a deep "C-L-I-N-G, C-L-A-N-G" as the great beasts walked. There were pretty brass camel bells and even tiny tinkly ones for the goats that clambered on the mountainsides.
Rhamon saw an immense silver bowl standing on the table in one corner. Its handles were set with bits of gold and precious stones.
"This is a rare treasure," said Subhanna, touching it gently. "The Rajah is coming soon to his summer palace. There will be a great procession on the river, and hundreds of boats. People will bring him presents. And I shall take him this feasting bowl."
Rhamon sighed and turned to look at an old black gong that hung by the door. From a faraway temple it had come, where once it called the people to their prayers. Rhamon took up the padded stick and struck it. "Boo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-m-m-m-m!" The great sound filled the room and seemed to echo from every wall. The frightened birds on the window-sill spread their wings and flew away to quieter places.
Rhamon climbed after his father up some dark and narrow stairs to still higher rooms. The steps were steep and made of rough stone and earth. On every floor were rooms and rooms filled with old and precious goods, but all of them were grey with dust. Subro wished to see one of the copper bowls.
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Subhanna clapped his hands to call a servant. Then the servant came with charcoal dust and water. Sitting on his heels on the floor he mixed these into a paste and spread it all over the bowl. Then he rubbed and rubbed with his hands until the copper sparkled and shone. Many bowls and vases the servant polished in this way for Subro. But before they left, Subro had finally bought a beautiful great perfume jar, made of copper worked with many colors.
"For whom do you buy that wondrous jar, my father?" asked Rhamon, as they paddled off in their shikara.
But Subro only smiled. Some day his son would know.
All the way home Rhamon was silent. He was looking ahead to the coming of the Rajah. If only he could think of some way by which he might see the great procession of boats on the river!