once and glanced at the stone. It bore dark stains that corroborated his words, and though the sun had dried the surface, there was evidence to show that the last pujah was not of a very remote date.
Wandering round outside the wall of the temple compound we came upon the decapitated bodies of two goats lying in a pool of crimson blood. They had recently been killed, and the colour of the blood was intensely vivid. Pujah was going on inside the temple, but nothing could be seen of it. The heads of the animals were presented to the idol; the bodies were subsequently divided between the worshippers and the temple attendant.
I was once the spectator of a pujah done in my own compound. The tamarind tree, that was supposed to harbour a devil, had a devil-stone set up against its trunk. The stone rested on a platform built of brick and mortar. When the repair of the bungalow was nearly finished the heathen servants of our establishment arranged to do pujah to the devil, unknown to us. Their object was to propitiate him with offerings and to dispose him favourably towards the whole household, including the master and the mistress.
While the building operations were going on we shared a house with a friend in an adjoining compound. One evening I returned from my drive about seven. The dinner hour was eight o'clock. There was time to spare for a stroll in the garden. I caught sight of a group under the tree. The ayah observing said, 'Missus, come and see.' It was one of those lovely moonlight evenings which, are the delight of native and European alike. There was a flickering gleam on the other side of the aloe hedge that divided the compounds, and a cloud of wood smoke arose. A fire had been kindled beneath the tamarind tree. The sound of a tomtom rose and fell, and figures moved to and fro through the smoke. The
