Although I lay awake staring into
the darkness for upwards of two hours, and even paced the room softly
and slowly without making any noise, to see if I could make my escape,
in case of need, back to the forest by the same way I had effected my
entrance into the hut--no fear, I repeat, or any such feeling ever
entered my heart. I recomposed myself to rest. After a sound sleep,
undisturbed by any dream, I awoke at daybreak. Then I hastily put on my
boots, and cautiously got out of the hut through the same window. I
could hear the snoring of the owners of the hut in the other room. But
I lost no time, and gained the path to Sikkhim (the city) and held on my
way with unflagging zeal. From the inmost recesses of my heart I
thanked my revered Guru for the protection he had vouchsafed me during
the night. What prevented the owners of the hut from penetrating to the
second room? What kept me in the same serene and calm spirit, as if I
were in a room of my own house? What could possibly make me sleep so
soundly under such circumstances,--enormous, dark forests on all sides
abounding in wild beasts, and a party of cut-throats--as most of the
Sikkhimese are said to be--in the next room, with an easy and rude door
between them and me?
When it became quite light, I wended my way on through hills and dales.
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