and towers. His keen eye must have travelled over the narrow streets and the closely packed houses stretching up the skirts of the rock, and have searched the luxuriant island of Srirungam to the north and the thickly wooded country to the south for signs of the enemy. The island to the north remains the same with its brown goparums, but the woods on the south are gone. All that is left of them is a solitary giant banyan on the borders of Puducottah, and a few old trees by the roadside and in the compounds of the houses occupied by the Europeans. The cantonment stands on part of the ground once covered by the wood, and most of the trees that ornament it, now in the full beauty of their growth, were planted when the houses were built.
All through the wars the Tondiman or ruler of Puducottah remained faithful to the English, who drew their food supplies from his country. In vain the French tried to intercept the coolies and capture the convoys. There were occasions when they were successful, and the unfortunate coolies lost their noses; but Stringer Lawrence put an end to the blockade by two hard-fought battles that drove the French from the field (1754). No amount of bribery, or threats, or persuasion could deflect the fidelity of the Tondiman's people or their prince. They reap the reward in the present day. They pay no tribute, and possess certain privileges of self-government enjoyed by very few Indian States. The inhabitants of Puducottah belong to the thief-caste. Every householder in the cantonment employs one of them as a watchman. He is a useful, industrious member of the household, working hard all day, a willing servant of the servants, and shouting during the watches of the night to let his fellow-thieves know that he is at his post, and that they must pass by the dwelling in his charge on their nocturnal prowls.
The old fort is no more. Its sixty square turrets
