THE GOLDEN TEMPLE. 203 



hardly elbow our way through the deuse crowd. Devotees 

 and pilgrims, bunniahs and coolies jostle one another round 

 the square. Above and at their feet flutter hundreds of 

 sacred pigeons, so tame that they hardly take the trouble to 

 hop on one side as you pass. The background is shut in 

 by the palaces of Sikh potentates ; and although somewhat 

 in decay, their dingy walls, and even the green stagnant 

 water in the tank, all tend to show off the shining bright- 

 ness of the shrine. 



After this we went to inspect the carpet manufactory of 

 Davey Sai Chamba Lall. The workers, I believe, are, or are 

 descended from, weavers of that once important industry — 

 Kashmir shawls. The carpets made here are world-known, 

 and beautiful in design and texture, but I regretted to see 

 how largely aniline dyes and modern half-tone shades had 

 supplanted the old bright characteristic eastern colours. 

 Chamba Lall shared our regret, but said he was compelled 

 to follow the taste of the large Paris and London retailers 

 who are his chief customers. His showrooms are full of 

 many beautiful woven and embroidered goods, and I 

 recommend a visit to all with well-filled purses. 



We left for Delhi by the 5 p.m. mail, and arrived there 

 about nine o'clock the next morning. The tourist season 

 has now set in. All the hotels were full, and we had some 

 difficulty in getting rooms. Whether from lack of enter- 

 prise or capital I do not know, but the hotels all 



