began to descend the rocks as swiftly and skillfully as wild cats.
Five minutes later they were with us, fastening round our bodies
strong leathern straps, and rather dragging than leading us upwards.
Half an hour later, exhausted but perfectly safe, we stood before
the porch of the chief temple, which until then had been hidden
from us by giant trees and cactuses.

This majestic entrance, resting on four massive pillars which form
a quadrangle, is fifty-two feet wide and is covered with ancient
moss and carvings. Before it stands the "lion column," so-called
from the four lions carved as large as nature, and seated back to
back, at its base. Over the principal entrance, its sides covered
with colossal male and female figures, is a huge arch, in front of
which three gigantic elephants are sculptured in relief, with heads
and trunks that project from the wall. The shape of the temple is
oval. It is 128 feet long and forty-six feet wide. The central
space is separated on each side from the aisles by forty-two pillars,
which sustain the cupola-shaped ceiling. Further on is an altar,
which divides the first dome from a second one which rises over a
small chamber, formerly used by the ancient Aryan priests for an
inner, secret altar. Two side passages leading towards it come
to a sudden end, which suggests that, once upon a time, either
doors or wall were there which exist no longer. Each of the forty-two
pillars has a pedestal, an octagonal shaft, and a capital, described
by Fergusson as "of the most exquisite workmanship, representing two
kneeling elephants surmounted by a god and a goddess." Fergusson
further says that this temple, or chaitya, is older and better
preserved than any other in India, and may be assigned to a period
about 200 years B.C., because Prinsep, who has read the inscription
on the Silastamba pillar, asserts that the lion pillar was the gift