Some flooded Indian villagers refuse evacuation

Spotting a family stranded on the roof of a partly submerged house, two Indian navy commandos swept in over the muddy floodwaters in a black rubber dinghy to save them Wednesday - only to be shooed away.

Some 1.2 million people have seen their towns and villages swamped by two weeks of monsoon flooding in northern India, but some are refusing to leave, fearing evacuation would trap them in a future as homeless and penniless refugees.

"Just go away," Surinder Yadav shouted from the roof of his soggy house, where he sheltered with his wife, mother and five children.

It was hardly the response the two sailors expected after two hours negotiating treacherous, debris-filled waters to reach the Murliganj area, possibly the worst inundated spot.

"Come with us, we will give you a tent and food," shouted back Biju, a 20-year-old navy diver, making a vain effort to change the family's mind.

Having lost almost everything when the Kosi River flowing out neighboring Nepal burst its banks, drowning homes and destroying farm fields over hundreds of square miles, villagers like Yadav were clinging to their last possessions.

The offer to join more than 600,000 refugees already moved to dry ground and now living in relief camps or sheltering with friends and relatives was not tempting.

"My cattle are here and I can't leave them," said Yadav, 35, pointing to dozens of water buffalo and cows grazing on a sliver of a railway embankment peeking above the water.

Behind his house, more than 50 villagers waded into the water to catch a glimpse of the first rescue boat to reach the village, 940 miles east of New Delhi, the capital. They delivered the same message: "Thanks, but no thanks."

"I'll come if you take my cattle," said Maya Devi, 64, who perched in a tree picking leaves to feed her animals, prompting laughter from the crowd at the thought of a water buffalo in a rubber dinghy.

The villagers said they were satisfied to get "food from the sky" - helicopter airdrops of provisions.

While authorities are willing to respect the wishes of those who don't want to leave, it makes the rescue operation more difficult, diverting resources from those desperate for rescue.

"There are thousands and thousands of people still out there. I don't know where to send my boats," said Lt. Cmdr. S. Naqvi, who is heading the naval team.

It also means the government will have to keep supplying stranded villagers who don't leave with food by air and boat, a more time-consuming and expensive process than feeding them in relief camps.

The refusal of a rescue was frustrating for the sailors, too.

"It took us two hours to reach them. We could have rescued five boatloads in the same time," said Pankesh, a 23-year-old sailor in the elite Marine Commando Force working with Biju. The two men gave only their first names to an accompanying Associated Press reporter, in accordance with Indian military policy.

Many people are clamoring to be saved.

In the nearby village of Rhata, dozens stood in waist-deep water, waving frantically for the boat. As it approached, people swarmed forward, scrambling to scramble on board.

Following Naqvi's orders, the sailors allowed women and children first. Mothers threw small babies up into the sailors arms before hauling themselves on. In the end, the dinghy, with a capacity of eight, held 24 people, including 11 small children - many wailing in fear.

Paswan Singh, 32, was one of the few men allowed on so he could accompany his six months' pregnant wife, Sajita, and their two small children. He was not afraid to leave his home, he said, because relatives in the nearby town of Purnea would take care of them.

This rescue, which took more than four hours to fetch 20 people, highlighted the problems faced by thousands of soldiers, sailors and aid workers who have been struggling for days to help those stranded by the floods.

With a vast area transformed into a virtual lake, most roads, buildings and other landmarks are submerged, making maps useless. The rescue teams rely on local guides but frequently get confused about locations.

Navigation is difficult. The water is up to 15 feet deep in some places, but shallow in others, often forcing sailors to pull up propellers and haul their boats around by hand. Floating debris frequently tangles propellers.

The situation was slowly improving, with the Kosi River cutting new channels and its waters draining into the Ganges River, which flows across the subcontinent.

Still, authorities cautioned that many areas will likely remain flooded until the monsoon rains taper off in November. That means refugees could be stuck in camps for a few months.

Even after the waters recede, those who leave their homes may have nothing to go back to.

Arriving at dry land on the edge of the flood zone, the newly rescued were handed handfuls of biscuits and apples. Local welfare groups gave those with children small packets of clothes.

Clutching the new belongings, their first taste of the charity that they will depend upon, people stumbled off to begin their new lives as refugees.