d out,
which would reward the pickaxe of a Layard.

But we must not linger. Our traveller, as we said, had entered India
by way of Kabul. Shortly before he arrived at Pou-lou-cha-pou-lo, i.
e. the Sanskrit Purushapura, the modern Peshawer, Hiouen-thsang heard
of an extraordinary cave, where Buddha had formerly converted a
dragon, and had promised his new pupil to leave him his shadow, in
order that, whenever the evil passions of his dragon-nature should
revive, the aspect of his master's shadowy features might remind him
of his former vows. This promise was fulfilled, and the dragon-cave
became a famous place of pilgrimage. Our traveller was told that the
roads leading to the cave were extremely dangerous, and infested by
robbers--that for three years none of the pilgrims had ever returned
from the cave. But he replied, 'It would be difficult during a hundred
thousand Kalpas to meet one single time with the true shadow of
Buddha; how could I, having come so near, pass on without going to
adore it?' He left his companions behind, and after asking in vain
for a guide, he met at last with a boy who showed him to a farm
belonging to a convent. Here he found an old man who undertook to act
as his guide. They had hardly proceeded a few miles when they were
attacked by five robbers. The monk took off his cap and displayed his
ecclesiastical robes. 'Master,' said one of the robbers, 'where are
you going?' Hiouen-thsang replied, 'I desire to adore the shadow of
Buddha.' 'Master,' said the robber, 'have you not heard that these
roads are full of bandits?' 'Robbers are men,' Hiouen-thsang
exclaimed, 'and at present, when I am going to adore the shadow of
Buddha, even though the roads were full of wild beasts, I should walk
on without fear. Surely, then, I ought not to fear you, as you are men
whose heart is possessed of pity.' The robbers were moved by these
words, and opened their hearts to the true faith. After this little
incident, Hiouen-thsang proceeded with his guide. He passed a stream
rushing down between two precipitous walls of rock. In the rock itself
there was a door which opened. All was dark. But Hiouen-thsang
entered, advanced towards the east, then moved fifty steps backwards,
and began his devotions. He made one hundred salutations, but he saw
nothing. He reproached himself bitterly with his former sins, he
cried, and abandoned himself to utter despair, because the shadow of
Buddha would not appear before him. At