"The mountain Shan have disgusting personal habits. They smoke huge, rolled-up leaves filled with horrid-smelling tobacco and chew something called betel nut, which turns their mouths red. Another vice is their love of zu, an alcoholic drink made from rice. Any event such as a birth or a death or a stranger's visit-or even a trivial thing like a change in the weather-calls for a drinking celebration. Drunkenness is very common."
Henry shifted his intense eyes back to his family. "This country is very dangerous, filled with evil men. Bandits roam in packs. There are no police or government soldiers here, so you must be careful when outside Shaduzup and always have elders of the church with you when traveling. We do have a Sawbaw, a warlord of sorts who is supposed to protect us, but I have found him to be nothing more than a bandit himself."
Seeing Joshua's wide eyes expand even more on hearing about the bandits, Sarah tried to change the subject. "Tell Joshua about the politics of the country."
Henry leaned against the porch rail. "Since Britain gave up its Burma colony at the end of World War II, the Shan have wanted independence from the Burmese government, but it has never been granted. The Burmese government is ruled by the army, which has spent years trying to bring the rebellious Shan under control. The army has sent units into the north to stamp out the resistance, but they have always met with defeat. It has been a standoff for years now, and we must thank God for this. It gives us time to show these people the only way to true peace is through God's word."
Henry broke into a smile and again waved his arm toward the darkened mountains. "The devil has corrupted their hearts and souls with ignorance, but we will deliver them. It is a fertile land awaiting only God's word, and we are the chosen ones to show these wretched souls the light."
"Amen," Sarah said, staring at the mountains with determination.
Joshua nodded to show his support but didn't really understand everything. The part about the fierce Shan rebels, however, did get his attention, and he hoped he would be able to see some. It would be neat.
They used the first days in their new home to get settled and learn their duties. Sarah would be a teacher and nurse and Joshua would be a student, a wood and egg gatherer, and a helper for the native cook and gardener. Although Henry had a Shan assistant pastor and four other native church helpers, it was evident to both newcomers that the mission revolved around Henry. And to him, the mission school was the key, for the Shan people's young, not as biased as their elders by the old customs and traditions, were more open to God's word. It was the young whom Henry expected to become God's disciples and to go out in the wilderness and convert more of their own. The mission taught just over fifty children. Most were from Shaduzup, but twenty were from outlying villages and lived at the school dormitory.
It was the young age of the children that was a problem for Joshua. Most of the boys were nine or younger, so he found himself the oldest boy in the school. He had no one to play with or talk to except the schoolgirls. Henry explained that Shan families needed all boys over ten to work. Joshua learned to do his chores quickly after his classes so that he could take off and explore and get away from his inquisitive female classmates. Within days he learned his way around the village and met some boys his age, but as Henry had said, they were working-gathering wood, tending the crops and bullocks. Despite Henry's warnings, Joshua ventured a little farther each day and soon found that the whitewashed Christian world Henry had built was only a very small island surrounded by a sea of green.
Beyond the whitewashed village and cultivated fields, Joshua learned, the real northern mountain Shan lived in the protective darkness and majesty of the forest. These people were alive, laughing, crying, praying to stones and to gods of the forest. None wore the Western clothes from the mission barrels but rather long ankle-length, homespun skirts, loose fitting shirts, and the traditional blue turban of the Shan.
They were small people, almost delicate looking, but they were the strongest people Joshua had ever seen. Their lives revolved around working and hunting to provide food for the family, yet they lived within a web of customs and traditions that affected all that they did. Joshua sometimes pitied them for their hardships, but more often he envied them, for they were proud of who they were.
A month after arriving in Shaduzup, Joshua was playing on the bank of a small river that ran five hundred yards below the village. He and the younger boys from the school were trying to spear fish like the elder fishermen but were having no luck, so they soon began jumping off the huge boulders into the cool, inviting water. Joshua was poised to leap when the boys' laughter was drowned out by the loud clanging of the mission church bell. Every head turned toward the distant steeple, the radiant smiles replaced with looks of terror. Joshua froze when he saw the other boys' reaction. The bell wasn't ringing as it did on Sunday with three-second intervals between clangs. Instead it was clanging rapidly. Joshua turned to ask what the ringing meant, but the other boys were all running toward the village as if their lives depended on it.
Scared, Joshua joined in the flight to Shaduzup as fast as he could run. His fear doubled when he got within a hundred yards of the first buildings, for he could see screaming villagers running hysterically toward the church. Some carried chickens and small pigs, others pieces of furniture, and all were pushing their terrified children ahead of them. As Joshua got closer he saw two of the village men carrying antique-looking rifles. Unlike the other people, they weren't running, but they did have the same look of terror on their faces. Joshua slowed and yelled to one of the men. "U Wat, what is happening?"
"Bandits! Run to the mission!"
Joshua came to an abrupt halt and looked in the direction the two men were facing. There were three men on small, shaggy ponies, stopped on a rise just out of rifle range. They were bearded and wore filthy white turbans and light green uniform shirts and pants. They had bandoleers strapped to their chests and rifles slung over their shoulders. Joshua's heart felt as if it were going to pound through his chest, but at the same time he was strangely thrilled to see actual bandits. Then the center horseman turned in his saddle and waved toward the forest behind him.
Joshua stopped breathing as at least thirty more horsemen rode out of the trees in a perfect line. Unlike the first three riders, the larger formation was all dressed in dark blue turbans, jackets, and pants. Swords hung from the men's belts, and bandoleers crisscrossed their chests. With stiff backs, heads and eyes set to the front, they advanced with their rifles resting menacingly across the front of the saddles.
The two village men lowered their old guns and slowly backed up, one of them gasping, "The Chindit."
Joshua was frozen in place, unable to take his eyes off the approaching men. One of the horsemen raised a hand and barked a command. The mounted formation came to a halt, and a single rider galloped from the tree line on a sleek, jet-black horse. His turban was cobalt blue but his billowing clothes were raven black. A huge curved sword hung from his belt and glistened in the sun as the line of horsemen made a gap for him to pass.
Joshua finally took a breath, looked behind him, and saw that the village men had abandoned him. The village had fallen oppressively silent. Then he heard the dull thuds of the fast-approaching hoof beats. The sound became louder and louder until Joshua could feel the ground vibrate beneath his feet. He slowly turned back to face the lone rider who was bearing down on him. Everything within Joshua's being was screaming for him to run, but the approaching rider's magnetic eyes held him in place.
The rider reined back and brought the snorting animal to a dusty halt only a few feet away. After keeping his stare on the boy for a full ten seconds, the rider finally spoke. "So you alone challenge me?"
Joshua tried to speak, but he had no saliva. All he could think to do was nod. The rider burst out laughing and waved his men forward. He was still laughing as he leaned over and offered his hand. "Little Sao, a brave soldier such as you must ride."
Joshua was mesmerized by the regal bearing
of the man before him. The rider was not Shan; he was big and his face was long and angular as if chiseled from stone. His piercing eyes were hazelnut brown and seemed to look right through Joshua. The boy's gaze slowly lowered to the leader's offered hand. On his wrist was a thin silver band that gleamed in the hot sun.
Taking a breath for strength, Joshua raised his arm.
In a single movement the leader grasped the boy's hand and swung him up on the saddle behind him. The spell broken as the rider prodded the home forward, Joshua asked excitedly, "Are you really a bandit?"
The rider bellowed with laughter and translated for the other riders what the boy had asked. They all laughed and smiled but none spoke. The leader patted Joshua's leg. "I have killed men for calling me such things, but you are a brave lad and I will answer you true. I am many things, little Sao, but a bandit I am not. I am your Protector."
The leader and his horsemen rode through the deserted village and halted in front of the church, where the people of Shaduzup had gathered. Over two hundred villagers stood behind their pastor, whose bearded face was set in stone. The villagers all bowed their heads toward the lead rider, but Henry only lowered his eyes for an instant before speaking coldly. "You put fear into the hearts of us all, Chindit. We thought your men were bandits."
The leader's eyes lost their gleam and his face tightened.
"Greetings and blessings to you too, Pastor Brown. I see you still have not learned your manners." The rider then smiled and dipped his chin. "I am truly sorry for the mistake. My lead scouts dress as bandits because we are on the hunt for three gangs that have been reported in this area. Even you, a godly man, can see the tactical advantage of this deception."
"Joshua!" Sarah cried out, seeing her son. She broke out of the crowd and ran toward the leader.
The tall rider grasped Joshua's arm and gently lowered the boy to his frightened mother. He bowed his head and touched his turban in a theatrical way. "I have heard of your beauty, Mrs. Brown, but the stories pale in your presence. It is a pleasure to finally meet you." Sitting back erect in the saddle, he spoke in a deeper voice. "I am Sawbaw Xu Rei Kang, Horseman and Protector of the Ri and Chindit of the Forest ... at your service, kind lady."
Frightened, Sarah backed up until alongside Henry. "Who is this man?" she whispered.
Henry, not hiding his disdain, kept his cold stare on the leader as he spoke. "This is our warlord who says he protects us from the bandits, but for a price. He calls himself the Protector of the Ri-which is the land and people that encompass the northern region of which we are a part. He is better known as `Chindit,' which means 'the lion.' He has fought for years against the government-"
"They fight me!" bellowed Xu Kang. "We are a free people! We will never be puppets to the junta."
"You cause death and destruction with your fighting!"
Henry fired back. "You blackmail these people with this pretense of bandits!"
U Do, the Shan assistant pastor of the church, quickly stepped in front of Henry and bowed his head up and down.
"I apologize for our pastor, Chindit. He does not know of the bandits that plundered our village before you came. We gladly pay for your protection."
Xu Kang ignored the small assistant pastor as his cold glare bored holes into Henry's forehead. "You must learn manners, Pastor Brown. I am hunting bandits and have fought two battles with them in the past two days. They are more brazen and come farther south, but they are not the biggest problem. The Wa are returning."
The villagers gasped when they heard the word Wa and pressed closer together.
"The Wa were civilized years ago," Henry snapped back.
Xu Kang shook his head as if dealing with a child. "Ah, but many are returning to their old ways and are collecting heads. Several packs have come back to the mountains to reclaim their land. The junta has allowed them to return and has even given them arms. The junta believes the Wa will make war on us as they did before." The saddle creaked as Xu Kang leaned forward and pinned Henry with his eyes.
"You see, Pastor, as I've told you before, the junta wants all Shan dead. We mean nothing to them. One day, perhaps, you will come to understand."
Henry rolled his shoulders back. "You endanger us all by your presence here. If the government learns of your coming and of our people paying you, they will close the mission.
P. Lease-,le. Ave and take nothing. In God's name I beg you to leave us."
Xu Kang's chiseled features broke into a cruel smile. "Pastor, you have been my guest here for years and still you know so little. The government will never know. Your flock knows that if they speak of me I will know of it and the offender will be nailed by the tongue to a tree. The Chindit has spies everywhere and knows everything within the Ri. Calm yourself, for I have not come for payment. I have come to deal with the bandits and the Wa ... and to give you my son."
Raising his hand, Xu Kang made a circling motion. The horsemen behind their leader reined their ponies out of the way to make room for two riders. An old, barrel-chested man with a huge white moustache rode forward leading 'another horse with a small, black-haired boy perched in the saddle.
Joshua stepped closer, in awe of the old rider's moustache, for it was the strangest and most beautiful one he had ever seen. The snow-white whiskers flowed downward from beneath the old man's brown nose but split just above his lip and flowed upward again to be swept back almost to his ears.
As if feeling Joshua's gaze, the old rider looked at the boy and gave him a wink. Closing his open mouth, Joshua saw a glint coming from the old rider's tight wrist. He was wearing a silver bracelet identical to that of the leader.
Xu Kang motioned to the thin, dark-haired boy without looking at him. "This is my son. He is twelve and his name is Stephen, named so by his Christian mother who has joined her ancestors. I promised his mother the boy would be educated and not be a Sawbaw like his father. Take him, Pastor Brown, and teach him your ways. He speaks English as I do but needs your school words and thoughts."
Henry quickly stepped forward, took hold of Xu Kang's horse's bridle, and spoke in a harsh whisper. "You can't leave him here, Chindit. The government will find out-"
Xu Kang cut him off with a wave of his hand and motioned toward the old man. "I leave Master Horseman Bo Bak here to teach your village men how to protect themselves. He will also ensure silence." Xu Kang raised his chin but kept his penetrating stare on Henry. "Pastor, my son stays. I made a vow to his mother. If you know anything of Shan honor. vful know I must fulfill my promise."
Henry held the Sawbaw's gaze for several moments before lowering his head with a reluctant nod.
Xu Kang's hard expression softened, and he bowed toward Sarah. "It was indeed a pleasure, Mrs. Brown." Turning his attention to Joshua, the Sawbaw smiled. "You have a Shan Horseman's heart, little Sao. I shall always remember your challenge to me."
The leader glanced only a moment at his son, and his face showed excruciating pain. He reached out to touch the boy's shoulder but suddenly withdrew his hand and reined his black stallion around. Kicking the horse's flanks, he was in a full gallop in seconds and his troop with him. In a moment all that remained was a cloud of dust.
The old rider's creaking saddle broke the silence as he climbed down from his pony. "Greetings and blessings, Sao.
I am Master Horseman Bo Bak, the teacher."
Henry eyed the old man coldly. "Never call me Sao-there is only one Lord. That is the first lesson of your stay in Shaduzup."
The Horseman's leather face cracked into a disarming smile. "And you have many lessons to learn as well. The Shan custom of greeting is always 'greetings and blessings.'
You insulted my Sawbaw by not giving the proper greeting.
I will learn from you, Pastor Brown, but I ask that you too learn and respect our customs."
Sarah nudged her husband. "Henry, the people."
Henry broke his glare from the old man and turned to face the villagers. Raising his hands, he bellowed,
"Return to your homes, the danger is over. I will have a special prayer service tonight for deliverance from the evildoers the Chindit has warned us about. Go to your homes knowing Jesus is with you."
As Henry was speaking Sarah walked up to the mounted boy, who was staring at the vanishing dust cloud. She reached up to touch his hand and spoke softly. "Come with me, Stephen. I'm happy to have you as a new student."
The boy didn't move. He sat staring toward the north with tears running down his cheeks.
Chapter 2.
"How's Stephen doing?" Sarah asked Joshua as he came up the front porch steps.
"He's in the dorm but won't talk to anybody."
Sarah turned to give the man across the table an icy glare.
"Your Sawbaw is a heartless man."
Horseman Bo Bak leaned back in a wooden porch chair.
"Many think so, Mrs. Brown, but I have known the Chindit for fifteen years. You are correct only because today he lost his heart when he left his son. No man loves his son more."
Forged in Honor (1995) Page 2
