REMAINS OF ANTIQUITY. 15 



credible though it may seem to readers "witli no knowledge of the saurians 

 but that derived from stories of their boldness else^vhere, I may instance 

 having seen several hcstas (tlie professional boatmen, divers, and fishermen 

 of Mysore) dive time after time into water twelve feet deep, and bring to 

 the surface by the tail a crocodile seven feet long which I had wounded. 

 Tlie creature was not in any way crippled, but seemed overcome with fear. 

 It offered no resistance till dragged near a rock where I stood with a rope, 

 when it would turn and snap at the man pulling it, always sinking, how- 

 ever, the moment this demonstration made him let go its tail. Different 

 divers went down successively, one at a time, and brought it to the surface ; 

 I at last killed it with a charge of shot. 



Whilst in pursuit of game in the ]\iysore forests I have often been struck 

 with wonder at the remains of the dwellings and works of a bygone popu- 

 lation which are to be found, now engulfed in jungle. The whole country 

 bears traces of having once been better populated than at present, and many 

 of the remains are of a character that speak of the industry and culture of 

 its inhabitants. Some of the temples, monuments, and sculptures are as 

 grand in conception as they are admirable in execution. The old irrigation 

 works of the country, consisting of stone dams across the rivers, often many 

 hundred yards in length, and composed of blocks far beyond any of the 

 native appliances of the present day to deal with ; canals ; and reservoirs, or 

 lakes ; mark the material prosperity of the country ages ago. Granite of 

 excellent quality is found throughout the country, and the extensive use of 

 this imperishable material in the old structures has preserved them intact 

 to the present time. Wherever a village of importance existed remains of 

 interest are to be seen. The sportsman wandering in the forest is often 

 tempted to rest on his rifle, and muse sadly over the scenes of former life 

 and industry, where the voices are now hushed, and wild Nature, deprived 

 of her dominion for a few short years, again reigns supreme. The elephant 

 rests at mid-day under the sacred peepul-tree, once in the centre of tlie 

 village, where old and young met at evening, — the former to discuss village 

 matters and rest after the fatigues of the day ; the latter to amuse them- 

 selves, thoughtless of the future. Where are they now ? Broken images 

 and disused querns lie around ; the wells are choked and dry ; bears and 

 panthers find shelter in the very temples where offerings were presented 

 to the village gods, and where festivals were held. But the people have 

 passed away without other record than the jungle-overgrowTi ruins, which 

 have defied time. And may not similar changes follow again ? Where the 

 sportsman now tracks the elephant and tiger, cultivation may smile and 

 happy voices be heard long after his own insignificant existence is more 



