comitant of every
Indian religious ceremony. Further on, there were groups of cocoa-nuts,
and large brass dishes filled with rice; and each adorned with a red
or green taper. In the centre of the portico there stood a queer-shaped
censer, surrounded with chandeliers. A little boy, dressed from head to
foot in white, threw into it handfuls of aromatic powders.

"These people, who assemble here to worship Kangalim," said Sham Rao,
"do not actually belong either to her sect or to any other. They are
devil-worshippers. They do not believe in Hindu gods, but live in small
communities; they belong to one of the many Indian races, which usually
are called the hill-tribes. Unlike the Shanars of Southern Travancore,
they do not use the blood of sacrificial animals; they do not build
separate temples to their bhutas. But they are possessed by the strange
fancy that the goddess Kali, the wife of Shiva, from time immemorial
has had a grudge against them, and sends her favorite evil spirits to
torture them. Save this little difference, they have the same beliefs as
the Shanars. God does not exist for them; and even Shiva is considered
by them as an ordinary spirit. Their chief worship is offered to the
souls of the dead. These souls, however righteous and kind they may
be in their lifetime, become after death as wicked as can be; they
are happy only when they are torturing living men and cattle. As the
opportunities of doing so are the only reward for the virtues they
possessed when incarnated, a very wicked man is punished by becoming
after his death a very soft-hearted ghost; he loathes his loss of
daring, and is altogether miserable. The results of this strange logic
are not bad, nevertheless. These savages and devil-worshippers are
the kindest and the most truth-loving of all the hill-tribes. They do
whatever they can to be worthy of their ultimate reward; because, don't
you see, they all long to become the wickedest of devils!...."

And put in good humor by his own wittiness, Sham Rao laughed till his
hilarity became offensive, considering the sacredness of the place.

"A year ago some business matters sent me to Tinevelli," continued he.
"Staying with a friend of mine, who is a Shanar, I was allowed to be
present at one of the ceremonies in the honor of devils. No European has
as yet witnessed this worship--whatever the missionaries may say; but
there are many converts amongst the Shanars, who willingly describe them
to the