50 AFOOT THROUGH THE 



last of the sun before it disappeared. From the further 

 side emerged a figure in spotless white, the snowy pagri 

 folded after the manner of the Pundits. Salaaming 

 gravely, he presented me with a little bouquet and a 

 handful of walnuts, asked of my condition in life, 

 inquired as to my welfare, told me he made many 

 prayers, and guarded and fed the sacred fish of the 

 tank ; finally asked me for a chit, opening a small book 

 for it, and presenting me with it. Now, in principle, 

 a chit is an excellent thing, and by it, always theoreti- 

 cally, of course, a man and his ways, whether for good 

 or evil, should be known from one end of Kashmir to 

 the other. The practice, as understood in India, does 

 not work out on these lines, for almost every man you 

 meet certainly all you address demands a " chit," is 

 hurt by its refusal, and is inclined to resort to methods 

 of coercion if no other means will extort it. Now, my 

 Hindu priest friend, the Mahant, was agreeable to 

 look at, amiable in manner, but neither are 

 essentials for his profession, and how was I to 

 give a verdict as to his religious capabilities 

 and powers of prayer 1 ? Excuses are of little 

 avail against persistence, so I testified to his " good 

 appearance and amiable disposition, as proved by his 

 gifts," and added " that I felt incompetent to answer for 

 the efficacy of his prayers." Quite satisfied, he departed 

 to prepare for his evening devotions. In a minute or 

 two I heard a sound of low chanting, with intermittent 

 blowing of a most discordant conch, wetted to increase 

 its powers. My friend approached, devoutly salaamed 

 to the fishes, threw them some grain, and began a long 

 recitative. Sometimes in his excitement his words came 

 quickly in tones raised almost to a cry, then sinking 



