80 THE GARDENS OF THE TAJ 



distant view ; and in the contrast of the burnt- 

 up arid land outside the garden's boundary 

 with the misty fountains, gUstening leaves, and 

 vivid colours of the fruit and flowers within. 

 Along the banks of the Jumna many of these 

 old towers still mark the sites of ruined gardens. 

 The octagonal baradaris of the Taj are large 

 and elaborate buildings rising up in five stories 

 from the water's edge. Towards sunset, looking 

 back on Agra city and fort, one of these towers is 

 silhouetted against the sky, all its white marble 

 details lost in the warm dusk of the sandstone, 

 forming a dark foreground to the distant view ; 

 the bold turn of the river where the palms of 

 a long deserted garden lean over the silver-grey 

 sand-banks, in and out of which, sweeping in 

 great curves, the river finds its way and swings 

 across to where it flows under the old fortress 

 walls. The towers, and high white buildings of 

 the city, lie almost lost beneath the gathering 

 films of mist and smoke, save for one slender 

 spire, which tells of wise, tolerant days when the 

 great Akbar granted leave and land for every 

 teacher, and India all but turned to meet the 

 Christian claim. Nearer, the fort stands up, a 

 dark mass of solid masonry, against which the 



