, 1886-09-25
AN INDIAN PILGRIM CITY.
A Town of Temples and shrines to which
Pious Hindoos Flock in Thousands.

Is supposed IN some mysterious way "
flow down the Godavery bed. and pill
grims come to Mask, the Benares oil
western India, in thousands from all
parts of India. Each pilgrim as he en-
tiers the town has to pay a small tax ana
the receipts show that 600 900 people had
come and gone in the last eleven months.
The stream of life was just as unceasing
when I was there. Formerly the pill
Rrims came by road, spending monthc
on the way. But they mostly come by
rail now The Brahmans protested
against the railway with such success
that the station is four miles from the
town. There is, however, a good road,
planted with shady tamarisks and AGA
cias on either side. The station when
| arrived was crowded with pilgrims OF
all ranks, men. women and children. and
the road was blocked with a double
stream of bullock carts and pony carts,
while under the trees were groups rest
ing from the sun or slowly plodding on
to their destination.
At certain points near the town they
are met by the Brahman priests, who
make large fortunes out of their pious
visitors. There are about 500 special Brah-
mans, called Upadhyas, who keep large
lodging and boarding houses, and claim
to be the family priests of all pilgrim
families. Tney keep huge account books
containing records Of all former visitors
and they greet each pilgrim with u de-
mand for his or her name and birth
place. If he or his father or grand
father, or other ancestor, however re-
mote, is entered in any Brahman's book,
he belongs to that Brahman during
his stay. Some OF the books go as far
pack as Emperor Aurungzebe's time.
The victim is marched off to the Brah.
mans house, where he will find at least
1850 others. His bag of l~aboriously gath
cred rupees, boarded for this supreme
occasion, comes out, and system of fees
begin, which goes on until the pilgrim
leaves or the bag Is empty. After the
first fee is paid the various functions of
the pilgrimage begin. He has first to
fast for twenty-four hours, after which
he goes to one of the many temples on
the river bank with offerings of rice and
flowers and clarified butter. Then, tired
and exhausted with toll and travel and
want OF food. he is led into the river,
ana the lees begin again.
Masonry pools have been erected in
the bed of the stream for the bathers
when the river runs dry; one pool is
more sacred than another, and each fresh
bathing place requires a special fee. He
wishes not only to purge himself from
sin, but also to free the souls of his an
cestors. This again requires a special
fee. The certainty of salvation, whether
for himself or his fathers. depends en-
tirely on the amount of his gift. At last
he is led out of the water. after hours of
exposure, and he walks to the house in
his wet clothes, perhaps richer in holi-
ness, but certainly poorer in worldly
wealth. He then can take his first meal.
Raw vegetables in vast quantities, bread
and rice are his food. He probably over
eats himself; his digestion is weakened
by fasting and exposure, and hi. next
experience is a bout of diarrhoel or dys-
EMERY, or even cholera. Cholera had a
firm hold of Mask the whole of that pill
grim year. and as one walked through
the town N saw the dirt and smelt the
smells, one only wondered why the dis
ease should ever relax that hold.
Our friend is next sent off to Trimbuk,
the sacred source of the sacred river. He
is jolted there in n bullock cart, or has
to walk. according to the state of his
rupee bag. At Trimbuk he battles again.
but this time not in the stream itself,
but in a tank. through which the river
is supposed to flow. Here he must not
only bathe, but drina the water. where
literally thousands have washed. The
collector of Mask ono took a bottle full
of this water and showed it to some of
the leading Brahman, of the town. 1t
was full of organisms. They needed no
microscope, they were plainly visible to
the naked eye. His pious friends only
shrugged their shoulders and said that
paradise was worth gaining even at that
price. The whole place is stepped in ig-
norance and superstition, out of which a
handful of astute priests make their for
tunes, and they are not likely to lend
a hand in any reform. There is not a
pilgrim who comes but he honestly be-
lieves himself to be purified frcm sin by
this bathing and drinking. There is an air
of weary content on all their faces when
the pilgrimage is over, and they squat
on the station platform patiently waiting
for the train that will take them home
again. Yet they have all left the earn
ings of years behind them. and have
nothing To show for it save the little
Theoretically sealed brass cup of the holy
water which each carries Jack to his
friends.
There is something else, unfortunately,
they too often carry away with them.
These pilgrim years at the various river
sources and other holy places of India
are not only the signal of cholera at the
place itself, as was the case at Mask last
year; they are also the means of distrib-
uting the disease all over India. The
poor creatures live the most unhealthy
OF lives during their ~sojourn. and il they
do not taxi the disease on the spot they
constantly carry away the germs to de-
velop in some distant village. Their
treatment of the disease is as pitiful as
their superstitious reverence and belief
in b saving power of the river water.
For instance. in Mask. while the cpl
demic lasted, extra medical aid and APP
pliances and medicines were provided by
government and were always ready, yet
the sufferers never sent for the doctor.
Indeed. the whole family. as a rule,
combines to conceal the case.-Bombay
Cor. London Times.
He wAs Color Blind.