From the caves and jungles of Hindostan

FROM THE CAVES AND JUNGLES OF HINDOSTAN.

...of crows and vultures. The former are, essentially, the local sanitation committee original: "County Council" of the town, whose duty is to clean the streets. Killing one is not only forbidden by the police but would also be very dangerous. By killing one, you would provoke the vengeance of every Hindu, who is always ready to offer his own life in exchange for a crow's. They believe the souls of sinful ancestors reincarnate original: "transmigrate" into crows; therefore, to kill one is to interfere with the law of Karma The spiritual principle of cause and effect and to expose the poor ancestor to an even worse fate. This is a firm belief among both Hindus and Parsis Followers of Zoroastrianism, even the most educated among them. The strange behavior of Indian crows explains this superstition to some extent. The vultures are, in a sense, the gravediggers for the Parsis and are under the personal protection of the Farvardania The Zoroastrian guardian angel of the dead; original: "Farvardania", who soars over the Tower of Silence Dakhma; a circular, raised structure built by Zoroastrians for excarnation, watching the work of these feathered laborers.

The deafening caw of the crows strikes every newcomer as eerie, but after a while, it is explained very simply. Every tree in the numerous coconut forests around Bombay is equipped with a hollow pumpkin. The sap of the tree drips into it and, after fermenting, becomes a highly intoxicating beverage known in Bombay as toddy Palm wine. The naked toddy-wallahs Workers who collect palm sap, generally of mixed Portuguese descent original: "half-caste" and modestly adorned with a single coral necklace, fetch this beverage twice a day, climbing the 150-foot-high trunks like squirrels. The crows mostly build their nests in the tops of the coconut palms and drink constantly from the open pumpkins. The result is the chronic intoxication of the birds. As soon as we went out into the garden of our new home, flocks of crows came down heavily from every tree. The noise they make while jumping about everywhere is indescribable. There

IN BOMBAY.

seemed to be something positively human in the positions of the slyly tilted heads of these drunken birds, and a fiendish light shone in their eyes while they examined us from head to foot.

We occupied three small bungalows, tucked away like nests in the garden, their roofs literally covered in roses blossoming on bushes twenty feet high, and their windows covered only with muslin instead of the usual glass panes. The bungalows were situated in the local part of the town, so we were transported all at once into the real India. We were living in India, unlike the English who are only surrounded by India from a distance. We were able to study her character and customs, her religion, superstitions, and rites, to learn her legends—in fact, to live among Hindus.

Everything in India—this land of the elephant and the poisonous cobra, of the tiger and the unsuccessful English missionary—is original and strange. Everything seems unusual, unexpected, and striking, even to someone who has traveled through Turkey, Egypt, Damascus, and Palestine. In these tropical regions, the conditions of nature are so varied that all forms of the animal and vegetable kingdoms must radically differ from what we are used to in Europe. Look, for instance, at those women on their way to a well through a garden that is private yet open to everyone because someone's cows are grazing in it. Who hasn't seen women, cows, and admired a garden? Doubtless, these are among the most common things. But a single attentive glance will suffice to show you the difference that exists between these same