's
length for a moment--and lands a blow on the underside of the animal's
throat that severs the head from the body. The gushing blood is directed
to the Siva emblem close by, the head is borne triumphantly to the feet
of Kali, and each thug-looking man smears his face with blood taken from
the Siva symbol, and then dances madly around the carcass. Assuming that
the spectacle has favorably impressed the visitor, the high executioner
begs a donation with which to purchase a goat for a second sacrifice.
You decline, probably feeling that you would subscribe bountifully if a
priest might be substituted for the helpless beast.

On important days in the Hindu calendar many goats and sheep are
sacrificed, and sometimes buffaloes as well. In time of pestilence or
famine it is not unusual to find a child's head deposited in the early
morn at Kali's feet, it is claimed.

The inner court of the Monkey Temple, like the ceremony of the
slaughter, is open to the heavens, and is surrounded by a cloister lined
with cell-like niches for solitary meditation and introspection. On the
terrace, on every protruding bit of architecture, on every window
ledge--wherever foothold may be gained--are monkeys, loathsomely fat,
and made more disgusting from years of pampering than are the human
freaks on the pavement. Great tamarind trees overhanging the temple are
alive with monkeys. They drop to the ground, run between your legs, and
dash before you at every turning. You are entreated to pay for basins of
parched corn thrown to the revolting creatures by your priestly guide,
and do so, but are glad when the monkeys show their appreciation from a
distance. From three to four hundred of these mangy animals belong to
the temple, and are held to be sacred. At Benares everything specially
nasty or repulsive is protected by the cloak of sanctity.

You are glad to get back to your carriage, so thankful that you throw a
couple of rupees to the mob of appealing "priests," in your heart
possibly wishing that the money might be invested in soap and scrubbing
brushes--and in poison for the monkeys. Urging the coachman to drive
speedily for the open space and pure air of Benares cantonments, you
wonder as you proceed what place in religion can reasonably be occupied
by the revolting customs and beings to be witnessed at the Monkey
Temple, and it is with no regret that you learn from eminent authority
that in less than a hundred years every temple and shrine