and equally quick to give his prescription. But that prescription was the despair of the Mother and a breathtaking surprise for the generality of men, probably with the exception of uncle Kali whose eyes must have become wide open in triumphant appreciation. The prescription was this: The oil and liver of a Rohita fish weighing more than forty pounds were to be boiled in oil extracted from gingili seed in a village oil press. With that was to be cooked iron, several scented drugs, the dung of a bull etc. got from inaccessible places. The ointment made with this strange combination was to be rubbed over Radhu's body, and also an amulet prescribed by him to be tied on her. Nobody, however, had the daring or resourcefulness to apply this remedy and test its potency. One more occult remedy, suggested by a chanda (a spirit) through a medium in a seance was tried, but with no result. At last a person with much better sense suggested that a doctor should be called in. The Mother, tired of all remedies, said in a spirit of resignation: 'Are not the bitches of the countryside and vixen of the forest delivered of their litter?' Indeed, thanks to the foresight of Swami Saradananda, a doctor and a midwife were despatched from Calcutta before Radhu reached term. But fortunately Radhu had a normal delivery of a male infant on May 9th, to the great relief, at least for the time being, of the Mother and all the others concerned. The relief that the Mother got from it was, however, considerably neutralized by the death of Maku's child, Neda, who was a pet of hers.
The Mother proceeded from Koalpara to Jayrambati only towards the third week of July 1919, and