me. We ●alighted at Khurda Road and purchased tickets t●o the sacred city at a price that ▓could scarcely have covered the cost of pr●inting.A train of unusual length f●o



r a branch line was already so dens▓ely packed with pilgrims that those who tumbl●ed out of the compartment which the station ▓master chose to assign us we▓re in imminent dan



ger 320of being left behind.I▓ron-voiced vendors danced about the platform.Th▓eir wares were the usual greasy sweets, doughy▓ bread-sheets and curried potatoes that ha▓d been



our fare for long days past.●But this was “holy food,” ▓prepared by the priests of the hallowed c●ity; for the Hindu on his pilgrimag●es to a sacred shrine m


ay not eat of ▓worldly viands.For all that the hawkers sold to● us gladly, not abating, however, by a cop●per, the exorbitant prices to which their mon▓opoly and the superstitions ●of their regular customers ent●itled them. Night was f

all▓ing when we descended at Puri.The stati▓on, as part of a system abhorred of t●he gods of Hind, stood in the open co▓untry, a full two miles from the s▓acred city.Not even the inhabi▓tants of Benares are more fanatical than tho▓se of

Puri.Natives coming upon us● in the darkness along the road of sacr●ifice sprang aside in terror▓, and shrieked a long-drawn “sahib hai!” to ▓warn others to beware our polluting touch.● In the bazaars, many a merch▓ant cried out in ange

r when we approached h▓is tumble-down shop; and only w▓ith much wheedling could we draw one of ▓them forth into the street to sell us s●weetmeats and fruits.Half the s●hacks were devoted to the sale of dude,▓ which is to say, milk—of bullo

cks and go▓ats, of course, for the udders of the sacred● cow may not be violated.We pause▓d at one to purchase.A vicious-f▓aced youth took our pice gingerly and filled t▓wo vessels much like flowerpots.● I emptied my own and stepped forwa

rd ▓to replace it on the worm-eaten board t▓hat served as counter.The youth spran●g at me with a scream of rage and fear, and,● before the pot had touched the c●ounter, Marten knocked it out of my● hand and shattered it to bits on the cob▓

blestones, then smashed his own beside it.The t●wo pice I had paid for the mi●lk included the price of the vesse●l, great quantities of which are made of▓ the red clay of neighboring pits.● The crash of pottery that startled the silenc▓e

of the night at frequent intervals were● signs, not of some sad acci●dent, as I had supposed, but that a drinker ▓had finished his dude.The miserable, uneve●n streets were paved in fragments of brok▓en pots. There was not a na▓tive hut

in Puri that we could enter, muc●h less sleep in, and, our evening meal fi▓nished en marche, we returned to th●e station and asked permission▓ of the Eurasian agent to occupy● two of the wicker chairs in th▓e waiting-room.He refused, not

only because ▓it was against the rules, which didn’●t matter, but because he was sure to be found● out if he disobeyed them.He knew ▓of better quarters, however,● and directed us accordingly.We stumbled o●ff through the railway yards an

d came upon the▓ first-class coach he had mention▓ed, on a deserted side track.I●t was the best “hotel” of our Indian trip.The● car was built on the lines of the Ame▓rican Pullman, with great co●uches upholstered in soft leather.Ther●e

were burnished lamps that ●we could light with impunity when the he▓avy curtains had been drawn, several large mi●rrors, and running water.Smal▓l wonder if we slept late next mo▓rning and found it necessary to reco▓nnoiter a bit, for the

sake of▓ the station master’s reputation, before ma●king our exit. The great road of Puri,● over which the massive Juggernaut c▓ar is drawn once a year 321The● inventive genius of the Hindu has bedecked▓ the dwelling of god Jugger

naut with that ex●travagance of barbaric splendor belov●ed of the Oriental.Admittance is d●enied the sahib, but without is much to ●be seen.The temple rises in seven dome▓s, one above each of four stone stai▓rways deep-worn by centuries o

f pi▓lgrim feet and knees, and three within the crum▓bling, time-eaten wall.They are dome●s, though, only in general outline▓.The Hindu strives for bizarre effects in h▓is architecture; he dreads, above all, pla▓in surfaces.The smaller do

mes rise● en perron like the terraced vineyards● of the Alps, the steps half▓ hidden under glittering orn▓amentations,—hideous-faced gods of many ar▓ms, repulsive distortions of sacred animals,● haggard, misshapen gargoyles.Above them to

we▓rs Juggernaut’s throne room, resembling a▓ cucumber stood on end and suggesting that its ▓builder, starting with the dome as his ●original conception, was loath to ▓bring his creation to completion, and pu●shed his walls onward and up

ward to a dizz▓y height, to end at last abrup▓tly in a flat cupola.Mayhap his d●espotic master had doomed hi●m to that fate which has so often● befallen successful architects in t●he Orient, of losing his hand▓s when his masterpiece was

completed.● Everywhere the temple bears witnes▓s to the ravages of time.Th▓e splendors of earlier days are▓ faded and crumbling; there hovers● over all not so much an air of neglect as of▓ the inability of these groveling, Br▓itish-ru

led descendants of the talented crea●tors to arrest the decay, an acknowl▓edgment that the days of such con●structions and the Hindus of such days are pas●sé. Pilgrims swarm in Puri at all season▓s.Our way through the narrow streets w?/p>

坅s often barred by shrieking pr▓ocessions; a hundred pious familie▓s had pitched their tents at the edg●e of the great road.But it is ●in the month of July, when the bloodthirsty god ●makes his annual excursion to a● smaller temple two m

iles distant, th▓at untold multitudes pour in upo▓n the wretched hamlet.The car, weighi●ng many tons, is set up outside the tem▓ple, and Juggernaut, amid the clamor of barb●aric rites, is placed on his throne t●herein.Hordes of natives ea


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dred others surge forward to● fight for his place.The aged peasant to whom▓ this pilgrimage has dissipated▓ the meager earnings of a lifetime, retur●ns to his native village with inner assur●ance of the favor of the gods● in his next existence if he can forc●e his way through the rabble for one weak tug. ▓ But the ponderous car moves slowly.A sc▓anty rice diet is not conducive to g▓reat physical strength, and the massive whee●ls cut deep into the sandy p▓lain.The ruts of the last journey, ma▓de nine months before, were ▓by no means obliterated at the● time of our visit.Short as is the distance ▓between the two temples, the passing▓ oftentimes endures a week; and the struggl●e for places decreases day by day as those wh▓o have performed their act of devoti●on turn homeward.The last fan●atics drop out one by one.T●he ropes lose their tautness ●and sag of their own weight.A ●scanty remnant of the multitude gives a few “d●ry pulls”; and the grim-visaged▓ god completes his journey beh●ind bands of coolies hired for the occasion▓. They sacrifice

no more to Juggernaut.John● Bull has scowled on the custom.But the Amer▓ican superintendent of the mission hos●pital among the trees at the roadside ▓bore witness that the insatiate mons▓ter has still a goodly quota of victims; ●for annually the plague breaks ●out among the superstitious, devitalized p●ilgrims and leaves hundreds to die o●n the flat, sandy coast like ●fish tossed ashore. He who has jou▓rneyed through this strange land wi


ll▓ be slow ever after to look upon animals as● devoid of intelligence and the power to reas▓on.Encircling the temple, we chanced upon one ▓of her sacred bulls setting forth on his ▓morning rounds through the tha●tch-roofed bazaars that make ▓up the town of Puri.He was a sle▓ek, plump beast, with short, stumpy horns ▓and a hump, as harmless, apparently▓, as a child’s pet poodle.We kept him compa●ny, for, strange to say, the fanatics, who had ●all but mobbed us for setting foot on the▓ flagging before a temple gat▓e, offered no protest when we petted this most ●reverenced of animals.He was too near the g●ods no doubt to be polluted even by a sahib touc▓h. The main entrance to Juggernaut’s ▓temple in Puri.I was mobbed for st●eppin

g on the flagging around the● column 323Setting a cours●e for the nearest shop, he advanced with dig▓nified tread, shouldering his w●ay through the multitude, pushing aside a●ll who stood in his path, not rudely,● but firmly, something almost human in his ma●nner, of waywardness, self-compl▓acency, and arr

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