t his own religion in his
own way; persecution is unknown. The Parsees have their cemetery on the
top of that high hill; it is a beautiful place, laid out in gardens,
and reached by flights of steps. Only at one end are five grim towers
shut in by a wall and called the Towers of Silence. Their parapets are
high, and none may climb to the top except certain men set apart and
dedicated for this terrible work. When a Parsee dies, his body is borne
reverently and with care to the gardens on the hill, but instead of
burying it in the earth, these men take it up the winding stairs of one
of the towers and lay it on the roof, and then retire. The vultures do
the rest! No human being has ever seen that dread spectacle, for when
the men come back again about a fortnight later there are only the clean
bleached bones of the skeleton to take away and lay in quicklime to be
absorbed.

So the vultures hover over Bombay and sit like great images around the
parapets on the Towers of Silence, knowing that they will never lack a
meal!

* * * * *

We have seen many and bewildering things in this great city, and when at
last we arrive at the station between five and six in the evening, for
our first journey across this vast land, we are glad to rest. We engaged
our places directly we arrived, for here, where a journey takes often
nights and days, it is no use wandering in casually a few minutes before
the train starts. We also engaged the whole of a compartment to
ourselves, as we want a good night's sleep. It has been cleaned and
prepared, and looks very comfortable when we come to claim it. There are
two seats running lengthwise, the opposite way to that which they do in
an English train. Above them are two more which can be let down as bunks
if required, so that the carriage can accommodate four, but as we have
paid extra to get it to ourselves we ought not to be disturbed.

By the way, you haven't seen any Indian money yet. This is a rupee, a
large and substantial coin you see, about as big as a two-shilling
piece, but it is only worth one and fourpence; fifteen of them go to the
pound. An anna is a penny, and that little coin like a threepenny bit is
a two-anna bit.

[Illustration: SIT LIKE IMAGES ROUND THE PARAPET.]

We have had to hire a native boy to travel with us and look after the
luggage, as it is difficult to do without one in India. All servants are
called "boys" here, even if they are gr