222 PINJOR 



pandemonium of real artistic beauty and quaintest 

 tawdriness, that form the traditional wedding 

 splendours dear to Indian hearts. But even this 

 engrossing subject must have palled at last, and 

 the listeners dozed over the gardener's best silver 

 hookah which stood in their midst. 



There was hardly a coolie to be seen in the 

 little plots of ground fringed round by the smooth, 

 gently- waving banana leaves, where the zemindars 

 work so busily every morning and evening. 

 The birds were all asleep, or else the roar of the 

 waterfalls drowned their various calls. Only 

 the butterflies and fountains seemed alive, 

 dancing points of gold and silver. 



The sun was still high, but the deep shadows 

 of the mango trees looked cool and mysterious, 

 tempting further exploration. Half-way below 

 the main pavilion a masonry platform projected 

 into the garden, in the centre of which was a 

 large bathing-tank. The water running under 

 the hall above fell to the level of the tank, and 

 thence flowed away down a carved stone slope. 



From the terrace of the main pavilion the 

 steps led down through the thickness of the 

 fortified wall till they came out on the level of 

 the bathing -tank, and continued in a second 



