bes of devotees that have at any age existed.
His admirers and followers speak of him as having been invulnerable to
fire. In his lifetime he had forty disciples or pupils constantly with him;
at his death these forty separated, each in the course of time
accumulating his forty pupils, after the pattern of their founder, who
also eventually became leaders, and so on, until at the present time, it
is conjectured, there are few places in Asia exempt from one or more
detachments of these Chillubdhaar practical beggars who are much admired
by the weak; and although they profess the same tenets and rules of life
with their founder, Syaad Ahmud Kaabeer, yet, I believe, no one gives the
Chillubdhaars of the present period credit for possessing either the
virtues or the power of that man who set them so many bright examples;
nevertheless, they are applied to on emergencies by the ignorant and the
credulous of the present day, courted by the weak, and tolerated by all.

They all practise one plan whenever called upon to remove the difficulty
of any person who places sufficient confidence in their ability. On such
occasions, a young heifer, two years old, is supplied by the person having
a request to make, after which a fire of charcoal is made in an open space
of ground, and the animal sacrificed according to Mussulmaun form. The
tender pieces of meat are selected, spitted, and roasted over the fire, of
which when cooked, all present are requested to partake. Whilst the meat
is roasting, the Chillubdhaars beat time with a small tambourine to a song
or dirge expressive of their love and respect to the memory of the
departed saint, their founder and patron, and a hymn of praise to the
Creator.

The feast concluded, whilst the fire of charcoal retains a lively heat,
these devotees commence dancing, still beating their tambourines and
calling out with an audible voice, 'There is but one God!--Mahumud is the
Prophet of God!' Then they sing in praise of Ali, the descendants of the
Prophet, and, lastly, of Syaad Ahmud Kaabeer their beloved saint. Each
then puts his naked foot in the fire: some even throw themselves upon
it,--their associates taking care to catch them before they are well
down,--others jump into the fire and out again instantly; lastly, the whole
assembly trample and kick the remaining embers about, whilst a spark
remains to be quenched by this means.[3] These efforts, it is pretended,
are sufficient to remove the diffi