At the first village at which they arrived they sat down near the first
house, and Ned began to strike his staff to the ground and to shout "Hoo-
Hac" with great vehemence. Although the population were for the most part
Mussulmen, there were many Hindoos everywhere scattered about, and these
at once came out and formed a ring round the holy man. Some bore torches,
and Dick played his part by sitting up and rocking uneasily, in the manner
of a bear, and then lying down and half-covering his face with his paw,
went apparently to sleep.

"The servant of Siva is hungry," Ned said, "and would eat. He wants
cloth;" and he pointed to the rags which scarce held together over his
shoulder. Supplies of parched grain and of baked cakes were brought him,
and a woman carried up a sick child and a length of cloth. Ned passed his
hand over the child's face, and by that and the heat of her hand judged
that she had fever. First, after the manner of a true fakir, he mumbled
some sentence which no one could understand. Then in silence he breathed a
sincere prayer that the child might be restored to health. After this he
bade the mother give her cooling drinks made of rice water and acid fruit,
to keep her cool, and to damp her hands and face from time to time; and
then he signified by a wave of his hand that he would be alone.

The villagers all retired, and the lads made a hearty meal; then taking
what remained of the food, they started on their night's journey, pausing
in a short time for Dick to get out of his skin, and to wrap himself from
head to foot in the dark blue cotton cloth that the woman had given.

"I felt like an impostor, getting that cloth under false pretenses, Dick."

"Oh, nonsense," Dick said. "The woman gave it for what the fakir could do,