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Subro owned five or six of the finest houseboats on the river. In the summer he often rented them to people who came up into the mountains from the hot parts of India. The most beautiful one of all his houseboats was called the Monarch. Subro's own little houseboat was anchored not far from this one. So Rhamon saw everything that happened on board the Monarch. This summer an American man and his wife came to live on it. Rhamon called them the Sahib and Mem Sahib. When they arrived he heard his father say, "Sahib, the Monarch is a little floating palace. You shall live like a king on that boat."
And indeed Rhamon thought so too, for he had often been inside. He had felt the soft, thick carpets under his little bare feet. He loved the pretty colors of the embroideries that hung from the windows and covered the beds. And he liked to trace with his fingers the patterns of the wood carvings around the windows and doors.
Almost every day the river merchants poled their boats slowly up alongside the Monarch and looked in through the windows. Holding up some special treasure they would begin, "Mem Sahib will look? In all the world Mem Sahib will not find beads like these. Lady Sahib not buy, only look!" Their soft voices kept on and on until Mem Sahib looked.
Rhamon loved to talk with these merchants and see all the beautiful things they had brought to sell to the American Mem Sahib. There were soft shawls, gay wool embroideries, dainty bits of hand-worked silver, lovely boxes made of brass and crushed turquoise, beads and bracelets and fine wood carvings. Sometimes the merchants came up onto the tiny deck of the Monarch. Then Rhamon feasted his eyes on the piles of wonderful things that came tumbling out of their packs.
One day the American Sahib and his wife, the Mem Sahib, wished to cross the lake to a wonderful Persian garden that was known to everyone for its beauty. It was called Nishat Bagh, the Garden of Happiness. Subro had made everything ready for the trip. A beautiful big shikara floated beside the Monarch. It was long and slim and its carved prow rose gracefully out of the water. An awning was stretched over the middle part of the boat to keep off the hot sun. Hanging from this were little white side curtains, gay with bright red embroidery.
The Sahib and Mem Sahib stepped down inside and settled themselves on the big springy cushions. Bundles of lunch were stowed in the bottom of the boat. Subro's brothers, Ibrahim and Ramzana, and two other boatmen climbed into the back part. Rhamon was not going to be left behind, so he scrambled over the edge and took his place beside them. Picking up their paddles, they sent the boat through the water with long swift strokes.
Rhamon loved to help. Although his paddle was smaller than the men's, he could work as well as any of them. He never missed a stroke and his black eyes danced with delight.
Slender willow trees lined the banks of the tiny canals through which they wound their way. Ducks were paddling in the water. On the bank a wedding party was feasting and merry-making. Other boats glided quickly past them. In one a boy had a load of tree branches he had cut for the family fire. In another an old man
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squatted out on the front tip, lazily smoking his hubble-bubble pipe. Sometimes the boats were poled by women dressed in ragged clothes, wearing many silver bracelets and heavy earrings.
When Rhamon rested from his paddling he liked to trail his hands in the cool water or pull up the pink and white water lilies that floated on the river. He could see their long stems through the clear water reaching down, down to the muddy bottom.
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