adored, while God, the creator of mountains, worlds, and systems, is neglected and unknown by the creatures of his own hand.
Every morning, a Brahmin ascends to perform pujah, or worship, at these shrines with offerings of rice, flowers, and cocoanuts; and in the evening, a pandarum (religious ascetic) goes up and lights a lamp before it. In the rock are cut large cavities to hold the oil and ghee (prepared butter) offered by the pilgrims who annually flock in thousands to the festival of this sacred place; these offerings are carried off by the Brahmins.
We reached the summit before sunrise, (having started thus early to avoid the fierce heat of the sun,) and had a fine view of the plain, spreading like a lake around us, broken here and there with a craggy granite hill, and with towns and tree-embowered villages scattered among its checkered fields. To the north, we could see the great temples of Conjeveram, thirty miles distant; to the south, the mountains of Salem and Ginjee; and to the east, a hill from which we might have looked upon our Madras homes.
We made a map of the villages, with the help of our guide; and having plucked some little
