William was speechless. How could a man so brilliant be so foolish? And not only that, but Dr. Thomas was no longer sure he wanted to continue being a missionary, since the whole venture did not suit his wife. She—and, William suspected, Dr. Thomas as well—liked being a respected member of the English community. Being a missionary and living in a shack somewhere, swatting mosquitoes, and telling Indian people about the gospel message was not the way to earn that respect.
Right there on the street, thinking about his ill-fated visit, William decided not to tell Dolly or Kitty what had happened. It would only give them ammunition to fire back at him. However, he would have to send a letter to the missionary society committee and explain how they had completely run out of money in just ten weeks.
That night, after the others had gone to bed, William sat silently in the small garden house agonizing over what to tell his friends back in England. He wanted to say that he still appreciated many things about Dr. Thomas but now understood that Dr. Thomas was not the right man to send to start a mission. Dr. Thomas was filled with enthusiasm but little common sense. Slowly in his mind, William formed the words he wanted to say, and then he wrote them down:
Mr. Thomas is a very good man, but only fit to live at sea, where his daily business is before him and daily provision made for him. I fear his present undertaking will be hurtful rather than useful…. I love him, and we live in greatest harmony; but I confess that Ram Boshu is much more a man after my heart.
That night, William went to bed with a heavy heart. He had no friends, no money, and little food. As he drifted off to sleep, he decided the best thing to do was to set his pride aside and visit the army chaplain at Fort William, five miles away. Perhaps a fellow minister would know how to help. Of course, by going there he also ran the risk of arrest for being in India without a license.
Early the next morning, William set off to visit the chaplain. It was a hot, tiring walk to Fort William, so William set a slow pace. Along the way, he planned what he would say to the Reverend Brown, the army chaplain. He would explain to him how he intended to be self-sufficient and make just about everything his family needed and that he had been offered some land rent-free where he could do all this. Then he would ask the chaplain whether he knew of a way to get his family to Dechatta, where the land was located.
He arrived at Fort William around lunchtime, exhausted from the walk and from a lack of food. The Reverend Brown met him at the door, and William explained his situation. He made the mistake, however, of mentioning Dr. Thomas’s name. The Reverend Brown said some unkind words about the man and slammed the door in William’s face.
As he trudged home with not so much as a glass of cold water in his stomach, William considered what had happened. Evidently, the Reverend Brown had already had a run-in with Dr. Thomas and was not about to help anyone associated with him. William understood the chaplain’s feelings and determined to hold no grudge against him. That night his journal entry read:
I am much dejected…. I am in a strange land, alone, no Christian friends, a large family, and nothing to supply their wants. I blame Mr. Thomas for leading me into such expense at first, and I blame myself for being led…. I am dejected, not for my own sake, but for my family’s and his, for whom I tremble.
Ram Boshu brought a ray of hope into the gloomy situation the next morning when he arrived with a bag of rice for the family. The last of their rice had run out the day before, and the Carey boys’ faces lit up as Ram laid the sack down. William was grateful for the rice, but he was preoccupied with what to do next. Finally, he decided the only option left was to find someone who would lend him money. Coming to such a decision, though, made it one of the worst days in his life. Even in England, when he had almost nothing, William had never borrowed money. Now he was left with no alternative, and the realization gnawed at his empty stomach more than the hunger pangs he’d been enduring to stretch the rice supply as far as possible.
That afternoon, he walked into Calcutta in search of someone to lend him money, but he found no one. Nor did he the next day. Not a single banker in the whole city would lend him a rupee. More dejected than ever, William walked home, ate a bowl of rice, and went to bed.
The next day, January 31, 1794, there was a knock on the rickety door of the garden house. When William answered it, there stood Dr. Thomas, who explained that after thinking about things for a few days, he felt guilty about what had happened. He had borrowed one hundred fifty rupees in his own name for William’s family, enough money to buy the needed supplies and get the family to Dechatta.
William lost no time packing up the family and preparing to move. The sooner he got to Dechatta, the sooner he could start his garden and feed his family. The following day, Saturday, he and Ram Boshu went to the main bazaar in the city to buy seed and a shovel, plus enough food for the trip. On Sunday, they both went back to the bazaar, this time to preach to the people. On Monday, they bought a small boat, and on Tuesday morning, the Carey family, accompanied by Ram Boshu, climbed into the boat and set off for their new home.
Dolly and Kitty were not at all pleased with the situation. They feared what lay ahead and complained constantly about “being forced to go out into the wilderness!” And they had a right to be worried. Going to the Sunderbans, as the area around Dechatta was called, was a desperate move. The Sunderbans was made up of a network of tidal rivers and streams that crisscrossed the huge delta formed by the Ganges and Brahmaputra rivers before they emptied into the Bay of Bengal. It was a wild and dangerous place to live.
William tried to keep the group’s spirits up as he and Ram Boshu slowly poled the boat along the forty miles of jungle waterways that lay between Calcutta and Dechatta. The scenery along the way was not like anything William had seen before. The rice fields surrounded by thickets of bamboo and tall waving palm trees fascinated him. The children were interested, too, at least for the first day. By the third day, though, everyone was hot and cranky.
At night, they pulled the boat over to the side of the river and slept. No one got much sleep, however, because of the many noises and shadows moving among the trees. Bengal tigers prowled the riverbanks, as did leopards, rhinoceroses, and buffaloes. Monkeys screeched in the treetops, and pythons and cobras slithered quietly through the long grass.
By day, as William and Ram Boshu poled along, they would catch glimpses of large crocodiles sunning themselves lazily on the muddy riverbank. For every crocodile they spotted, they knew there were a dozen more lurking in the muddy water. Mosquitoes, tiny as they were, were as much a problem as the larger animals. Within a day of leaving, the boys all had open sores from scratching at the insect bites.
On the third morning, Ram Boshu guided the boat into the Jubona River, and soon afterward, they arrived at the village of Dechatta, where Ram went to find his uncle. Soon they were all back in the boat for the half-hour trip farther up the river to the land they had been promised. Finally, Ram pointed out the site to them. It was nothing more than a patch of jungle, but William was determined to make a farm out of it. It would take time, however, and time was something they didn’t have. They had spent all their money on supplies and had just eaten the last of their food on the journey. Still, William was undeterred. He would just have to work harder and faster at clearing the jungle and planting a garden.
A little farther up the river on the opposite bank stood a sturdy-looking brick bungalow. William decided to find out who lived there before he and his family disembarked at their new home. They poled the boat up to the tiny jetty in front of the house and tied it up, and they all climbed out. The boys were glad to be able to run around, though Dolly fussed after them if they went more than a few feet away from her. As the whole bedraggled band walked up the path to the house, the door swung open, and an Englishman came striding out to meet them. He shook William’s hand heartily and introduced himself as Charles Short. Of course, he was surprised to see an English family so far out in the Sunderbans and immediately invited them all in for lunch.
Over the meal, served on the veranda, William and Mr. Short swapped stories of why they were in India. Mr. Short told the group he had come out from London to take charge of the East India Company’s salt factory at Dechatta. William, in turn, told him about being a missionary. As he did so, Mr. Short laughed out loud. “How ever do you expect to do missionary work in a land with such strong religious rules?” he asked William. Then he added, “And why bother? Isn’t it better to leave everyone with their own religion?”
William thought of the idols and temples he had seen since arriving in India and of the human sacrifice he’d heard about and shook his head. “God has called me to these heathen people, and I will gladly give my life trying to reach them with the gospel message.”
Mr. Short leaned back in his chair thoughtfully. “I can’t say I agree with you one bit. I’m not a God-fearing man myself, but you are in need of a place to stay, and I have a large house, as you can see. Stay with me as long as you need, and I will have the cook make meals for us all.” His eyes twinkled as he spoke, and then he added, “It’s been a long time since I’ve had some lively conversation, and I think a Baptist parson should provide that.”
William thanked Mr. Short for his kind offer, and the group brought their belongings up to the house from the boat. It was a great relief for William to know that his wife and sons would have a roof over their heads and food every day. William said a silent prayer of thanks as he carried the last of their belongings inside. He also promised himself that the family would not overstay their welcome. The following day, at first light, he and Ram Boshu would begin clearing the jungle on their property.
Later that evening, after a wonderful meal of lamb stew and bread and while Dolly and Kitty put the boys to bed and Mr. Short did some paperwork, William and Ram Boshu sat on the veranda talking.
“I have been talking to the gardener,” Ram said nervously. “He says the locals have all left the area. The only ones left are those who work for Mr. Short in the salt factory.”
“Did he say why they left?” asked William in a low voice.
Ram nodded, his voice fell to a whisper. “Tigers. The area is infested with tigers.”
William gulped and looked over his shoulder toward the surrounding jungle.
Ram went on. “In the last three months, twenty men in the area have been killed by them. Now people are too afraid to work outdoors.”
“It’s good to know what we are up against,” replied William, trying to sound undeterred, and then added, “All the more reason to pray as we work!”
It took several weeks for William and Ram Boshu to clear enough land to build a hut and plant a garden. Ram arranged for the timber they cut down to be sold at a nearby market to raise money for the family to buy much-needed supplies. As they worked, Ram went over Bengali words and phrases with William. At the same time, they both kept a constant eye out for the telltale stripes of a tiger moving amongst the surrounding jungle. William’s rifle was always at his side. Although he didn’t see any tigers, on several occasions William shot a wild pig or a deer for everyone at the house to eat.
Surprisingly, as William labored out under the hot Indian sun, he never once itched. The painful rash he used to get when he was out in the sun in England never recurred in India.
After three weeks, the new hut was nearly ready to move into, though William had a tough time getting the women to consider moving into it. After all, they would be trading a brick, English-style home, with plenty of food and servants to cook it, for a bamboo hut with grass-mat flooring and a thatched roof! Indeed, Dolly did not like to leave Mr. Short’s house at any time. She spent hours sitting in a corner singing softly to herself. Often she ignored the children for long periods of time and didn’t seem to hear William when he tried to coax her out to eat a meal with the others.
