"
They could see, as they rested and ate, a party of Hindus down by the
stream where there was a shrine to Krishna that nestled under a huge
banyan that was like the roof of a cave from which dropped to earth to
take roots hundreds of slender shoots, like stalactites, and whose
roots, creeping from the earth like giant worms, crawled on to lave in
the stream. When they had finished eating, Jemla said, "That is a
temple of the Preserver;" then he laughed a full-throated sneer:
"_Allah hafiz_! (God protect us), give me a fine-edged _tulwar_,--and
mine own is not so dull--methinks yon grinning affair of stone would
not preserve a dozen of these infidels had there been cause for anger."
"What do the pilgrims there, for they go, it would seem, to Omkar?"
Barlow queried.
"There has been a death--perhaps it was even a year ago, and at a
shrine of Krishna, especially this one that is on a water that is like
a trickle of holy tears to the sacred Narbudda, _straddhas_ (prayers
for the dead) are said. Come, Sahib, we will look upon this mummy, the
only savour of grace about the infidel thing being that it perhaps
brings to their hearts a restfulness, having the faith that they have
helped the soul of the dead.
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