"as succulent as cream,"
as they said, was highly appreciated by our travellers.

At two o'clock they entered a dense forest, which they had to traverse
for some miles. The guide preferred to travel in the shade of the
woods. So far at any rate they had encountered nothing unpleasant, and
there was every reason to suppose that the journey would be
accomplished without accident, when the elephant, after a few
premonitory symptoms, stopped suddenly.

It was then four o'clock in the afternoon.

"What is the matter?" asked Sir Francis Cromarty, putting his head up
over the top of his howdah.

"I don't know, sir," replied the Parsee, listening intently to a
confused murmuring sound which came through the thickly-interlacing
branches.

Soon the sound became more defined. One might have fancied it was a
concert at a great distance; composed of human voices and brass
instruments all performing at once. Passe-partout was all eyes and
ears. Mr. Fogg waited patiently without uttering a word.

The Parsee leaped down, fastened the elephant to a tree, and plunged
into the thick underwood. In a few moments he came back, exclaiming:
"A procession of Brahmins is coming this way! Let us hide ourselves if
we can."

As he spoke he loosed the elephant and led him into a thicket, bidding
the travellers to stay where they were. He was ready to remount should
flight be necessary, but he thought that the procession would pass
without noticing the party, for the thick foliage completely concealed
them.

The discordant sounds kept approaching--a monotonous kind of chant,
mingled with the beating of tom-toms and the clash of cymbals. The
head of the procession soon became visible beneath the trees about
fifty paces off, and Mr. Fogg and his party easily distinguished the
curious individuals who composed it.

The priests, wearing mitres and long robes trimmed with lace, marched
in front. They were surrounded by a motley crowd of men, women, and
children, who were chanting a sort of funeral hymn, broken at
intervals by the sound of the various instruments. Behind these came,
on a car (the large wheels of which, spokes and all, were ornamented
with the similitude of serpents), a hideous figure drawn by four
richly-caparisoned zebus. This idol had four arms, the body was
painted a dusky red, with staring eyes, matted hair, a protruding
tongue, and lips tinted with henna and betel. Round its neck was hung
a necklace of skulls, and it was g