Our coolies with provisions not having come up, and it being two
o'clock in the afternoon, I having had no breakfast, and being
ignorant of the exclusively Jain population of the village, sent my
servant to the bazaar, for some fowls and eggs; but he was mobbed for
asking for these articles, and parched rice, beaten flat, with some
coarse sugar, was all I could obtain; together with sweetmeats so
odiously flavoured with various herbs, and sullied with such
impurities, that we quickly made them over to the elephants.

Not being able to ascend the mountain and return in one day,
Mr. Williams and his party went back to the road, leaving Mr. Haddon
and myself, who took up our quarters under a tamarind-tree.

In the evening a very gaudy poojah was performed. The car, filled
with idols, was covered with gilding and silk, and drawn by noble
bulls, festooned and garlanded. A procession was formed in front; and
it opened into an avenue, up and down which gaily dressed
dancing-boys paced or danced, shaking castanets, the attendant
worshippers singing in discordant voices, beating tom-toms, cymbals,
etc. Images (of Boodh apparently) abounded on the car, in front of
which a child was placed. The throng of natives was very great and
perfectly orderly, indeed, sufficiently apathetic: they were
remarkably civil in explaining what they understood of their
own worship.

At 2 p.m., the thermometer was only 65 degrees, though the day was
fine, a strong haze obstructing the sun's rays; at 6 p.m., 58
degrees; at 9 p.m., 56 degrees, and the grass cooled to 49 degrees.
Still there was no dew, though the night was starlight.