Baltimore daily commercial. [volume] (Baltimore, Md.) 1865-1867, 1866-04-10
DAILY COMMERCIAL,
b MORE, MD.
NinInn EhiHn.-s

| -, step by step the pilgrims 20 natientlv IN az
| the sun rises slowly over their heads At mid.
| day ms beams are too powerful even for tboeo
VINO have lived under them from cb;I5bno5
and they seek the friendly shade Of T7oncr3
"tope,' IN the midst of which some Ion,-eir,eoo
departed benefactor of his race has snnII n
well, A draught Of fresh water, q little
parched rice or gram taken from their "cnm.
mcr6unds, making then frugal midday
meal, after disposing of which the wayfarers
lie down and sleep. An hour or two has
passed, when one Of them awakens and sees
that the shadows of the trees have begun to
lengthen, while the village at which thew
propose to rest for the night is still many miles
distant. He arouses his companions, and once
more they grid up their loins and proceed on
their way. BY and by, perhaps they meet g.
returning band of pilgrims with whom they
exchange shouts Of "Gunga mace XII ive,' and
BON, bonn, MahadeO." The sun has sunk,
and the short twilight has faded away; they
nave seen the iackal leave his lair, and the
Won won mas crossed their path ere they reach the
Instant village. The humble encampment is
asaIn pitched IN grove of mango trees, or
uIuet some Wlde-spreading bantam The pill
grim hrst care Is to choose a SPOT of ground
on on which to prepare the meal of the day,
ms spot he cleans, ana then he sprinkles it
with water, both to cool and purify it. In ito
centre he digs a small hole, on each side of
which he places a stone or q brick, and thus
speedily constructs a primitive FIRE place
Most likely he has brought some dry -four with
him. but If not he procures it from the village
and kneads it into a paste with the addition of
little water. He then goes to the well and
performs his ablutions, for without doing so
no orthodox HindoO can sit down to eat On
his return he kindles the fire, which he had
previously prepared, and balancing a small
iron plate on the bricks, he forms the kneaded
flour into cakes nd-bakes them on it. These,
with the addition of little oil or rancid butter,
compose his dinner nine DAYS out of ten On
the tenth he treats himself to more sumptuoug
fare. lie goes to the village, and for half a
dozen cowrles purchases a handful of greens
a similar sum Is laid out on an additional
quantity of oil or rancid butter for a single
cowrie he gets q chill, and another provides
him with salt. With these simple materials
he cooks himself a curry which altogether has
cost him about penny. The we'll affords him
his only drink. 1t Is night, and the large,
bright Indian moon sheds her silvery light
over the waking cOrnfelds The ringing of
bells and the believing of the couch is no
longer heard from the little temple by the side
Of the tank. All is silent, save when the
dismal cry Of the jackal comes wailing across
thetleIds. The quilts Of the pilgrims are spread
on the ground in the open air ''Hookahs''
are lighted, and they laziIy watch the smoke
as they sit or reclino on their lowly couches.
This is to them the happiest of the twenty-four
hours. Weared, they are resting; instead of
the midday heat and the fierce glare of the
sun, they are soIaced by the GOODNESS of night
and the soft light Of the moon. They have
enjoyed what is to them the chiefest of earthly
Pleasures, and are about to enjoy what is
second to it alone; they have eaten, and they
are about to Sleep CorRhiU Magazine