f the Thug tightly holding the
ends of the sacred handkerchief; another second, the joints of the
fingers performed their artistic twist, pressing the larynx, and the
victim fell down lifeless. Not a sound, not a shriek! The Thugs worked,
as swiftly as lightning. The strangled man was immediately carried to a
grave prepared in some thick forest, usually under the bed of some brook
or rivulet in their periodical state of drought. Every vestige of the
victim disappeared. Who cared to know about him, except his own family
and his very intimate friends? The inquests were especially difficult,
if not impossible, thirty years ago [1879], when there were no regular
railway communications, and no regular Government system. Besides, the
country is full of tigers, whose sad fate it is to be responsible for
every one else's sins as well as for their own. Whoever it was who
happened to disappear, be it Hindu or Mussulman, the answer was
invariably the same: tigers!

The Thugs possessed a wonderfully good organization. Trained accomplices
used to tramp all over India, stopping at the bazaars, those true clubs
of Eastern nations, gathering information, scaring their listeners to
death with tales of the Thugs, and then advising them to join this or
that travelling party, who of course were Thugs playing the part of rich
merchants or pilgrims. Having ensnared these wretches, they sent word
to the Thugs, and got paid for the commission in proportion to the total
profit.

During many long years these invisible bands, scattered all over the
country, and working in parties of from ten to sixty men, enjoyed
perfect freedom, but at last they were caught. The inquiries unveiled
horrid and repulsive secrets: rich bankers, officiating Brahmans, Rajas
on the brink of poverty, and a few English officials, all had to be
brought before justice.

This deed of the East India Company truly deserves the popular gratitude
which it receives.----

On our way back from the Marble Rocks we saw Muddun-Mahal, another
mysterious curio; it is a house built--no one knows by whom, or with
what purpose--on a huge boulder. This stone is probably some kind of
relative to the cromlechs of the Celtic Druids. It shakes at the least
touch, together with the house and the people who feel curious to see
inside it. Of course we had this curiosity, and our noses remained safe
only thanks to the Babu, Narayan and the Takur, who took as great care
of us as if they had