1854.] On the Mirage of India. 163 



Eussaloo addresses the old woman. 



Lofty mansions, mother mine, on either hand, fort and bazaar, 

 No living thing salutes mine eye. What hath caused this desola- 

 tion? 

 Weep not old woman. For tears there is no need. 

 Since God hath placed your son (under my protection) I will give 

 my head for his. 



She answers — 



Seven sons, O Eajah, were born to me. None had wedlock known,* 

 One only son the rest survives, — To-day his death lot's drawn. 

 O ! Eider of the dappled grey, thou bearded, turban' d man, 

 The worker of this cruel wrong, returneth here to-day. 



Another of these traditionary ballads opens with the following 

 exquisite address to the Popeeia, which however has no relation to 

 the tale. 



Sawun, Sawun, too kahoh, pee, kurunta pee ; 

 Tainko Sawun k'a kurreh, jin ghur n'h byl n'h bee ? 



Harvest, harvest, dost thou sing Popeeia peeia pee ? 

 What, thou who hast nor ox nor seed, shall harvest do for thee ? 



The Popeeia' s note is a repetition of its own name running from 

 the lowest to the highest scale. 



On the Mirage of India. — By Major James Abbott. 



Few have traversed the plains of central India without being struck 

 by the appearance of distant cliffs — sometimes also of towns and 

 forests, seen shortly after the rising of the sun, but which they have 

 vainly looked for later in the day. I first observed this phenomenon 

 in October 1829, when marching with my company from Kurnaul to 

 Mhow in Malwa. Several times on reaching camp, I found it pitched 

 in a plain, walled apparently to westward by lofty (See PI. VI.) cliffs 

 which had an inviting aspect. Several times I promised myself 

 that in the afternoon I would pay those cliffs a visit. But, when- 

 ever I would accomplish this design, I found that the cliffs had 



* This again alludes" to" the Hindi custom of showing extraordinary affection 

 and attention to a mother-in-law. So that the son literally leaves father and 

 mother and enters his wife's house. The widow here was peculiarly blest in her 

 sons, because none of them had thus left her. 



