ont legs together as if praying, and sways
about as it does so in an absurdly affected fashion, reminiscent of
Thackeray's description of Charles Honeyman in the pulpit.

CHAPTER XXIX

THE INDIAN ASCETIC

The fakir from Delhi. Mohammedan tombs. A visit to the
fakir; his possessions; his manner of life; his temper;
diminishing austerity; building his shanty; he settles down.
Hindu religious community; their dress; how they beg; of
both sexes; the community children; the _Guru_; opinions of
the villagers concerning them.

A fakir (that is to say, a wandering Mohammedan ascetic) from Delhi
took up his quarters by the tomb of a departed fakir, who is buried by
the side of a footpath, in the field of which the Mission property at
Yerandawana forms part. There are many such-like tombs, here and
there, all about India. They somewhat resemble rude altar-tombs in
appearance, two or three feet high, made of brick or stone, and
whitewashed. Generally they are under the shade of a tree, either
planted at the time of burial or growing there already. On the
anniversary of the day of death faithful Mohammedans will often cover
the tomb with a kind of coarse muslin, edged with gold or yellow
tinsel, and decorate it with flowers. That these tombs are numerous,
and that they are often found in remote country districts, is
accounted for, firstly, by the fact that this kind of asceticism was
formerly much more popular than is the case now; and, secondly, that
as the fakirs wandered everywhere, and ultimately died in the course
of their wanderings, each would be buried where he happened to die.
The Mohammedans of the district would then build up the, not very
expensive, tomb as a tribute to his religious profession, without much
reference perhaps as to the amount of strictness with which he
fulfilled his obligations.

The tomb at Yerandawana is in a very exposed situation. The only
shelter, several yards off, is a _barbel_, which is a tree bearing
small leaves and covered with thorns, and hardly affords any shade at
all, so that the fakir was exposed to the scorching rays of the sun
all day long. This has not the same malignant effect on an Indian that
it would speedily have upon an Englishman, but the former dislikes
sitting in the sun in the middle of the day quite as much as he values
the genial warmth of its morning rays in the cold weather.

After the fakir had lived here a while I went to