or the retired body-servant of some Arab merchant; if an
Indian, he is usually an old resident of the city, experienced in the wiles
of the urban population and sometimes perhaps a protege of the local
police. He has a perfect acquaintance with the intricacies of Bombay galis
and back-slums; he is a creature of jovial temper, being hail-fellow-well-
met with most of his customers, and he is not a grasping creditor. His
account, which he notes down on whitewashed walls, sometimes reaches the
sum of Rs. 10 to Rs. 15 where thriftless wives are concerned. Generally the
score is paid: but if it be shirked or disputed, he never thinks of
invoking legal aid for the recovery of his money. He has an abiding faith
in the doctrine of "Live and let live."

XVIII.

THE PANDU-LENA CAVES.

A NASIK PILGRIMAGE.

Nasik! What a story the name evokes! Nasik the Lotus-city, Nasik the home
of Gods; who has borrowed her name from the nine hills which lay within the
compass of her sacred walls. For we like not, nor do we believe, that
alternative derivation of the name from "Nasika," a nose, in allusion to
the fate which here overtook the demon Shurpanakhi. It is altogether too
savage an appellation for a city whose purity was established in the "Krita
Yuga," and whose fame is coeval with that of the great protagonists of
Hindu myth and epic. The great city of religion in the West stood upon
seven hills, the holy city of the East stood upon nine; and the famous
rivers which flow past them whisper in each case of a heritage of undying
renown. Fancy hand in hand perhaps with a substratum of historical truth
has discovered traces of Rama's chequered life, of Sita's devotion in many
spots within the limits of Nasik. The Forest of Austerity (Tapovan),
Panchvati and Ramsej or Ram's seat, that strangely-shaped hill fortress to
the north of Nasik, are but three of the holy places which appeal so
forcibly to the hearts of the people as the visible legacies of divine life
on earth.

But to us the temples and the sacred pools seem nothing by comparison with
the mighty monuments of Buddhism, which local wiseacres have erroneously
named the Pandu-Lena or caves of the Pandavas. We drive out in the fresh
morning air along the trunk road, which extends southwards of the holy city
like a grey ribbon streaked by two parallel lines of lighter colour where
the wheels of the bullock-carts have ground the hard metal into dust; and
hard by the fifth mil