on the further side were as eager as the rest to get a glimpse of the precious paper I held in my hand. In their endeavour to see the picture they tilted their unconscious burden so that he rolled slightly on his side. For a few moments I was speechless from surprise and apprehension lest the body should be precipitated into my lap. At the hasty words, 'Go! go! go!' in their own language they moved on like obedient children, the bearers resuming their chant, the mourners their wailing, and the horns and drum their melancholy notes. The transition from grief to curiosity, and from satisfied curiosity to grief, was the oddest feature of all.
To the south and west of the cantonment are some isolated hills composed of rock. They are not more than three hundred feet high, but standing upon the level plain they look imposing. To one of these I found my way with Mrs. F. F. Smith. Her husband was one of the engineers in the South Indian Railway Company, and later on chief engineer. He arranged for us to be taken down the line in a trolly; from the railroad it was but a short walk to the hill.
At the foot of the hill there is a small temple standing in a walled enclosure. The entrance of the enclosure has two giant figures of demons in place of gate-posts. We did not attempt to enter the compound, but contented ourselves with making a sketch at different points of view. The guardian demons of the gateway attracted me, and I sat down upon a flat stone that seemed to offer a convenient seat. It was immediately in front of the images. In a few minutes there appeared a wild figure with long tangled locks. He had a white cloth about his loins, and it was his only garment. He addressed me in excited tones, and explained that I must move from my seat. It was the sacrificial altar upon which the offerings of blood were placed when pujah was done to the images. I rose at
