The most famous cave is that of Karli. It far surpassed those we had visited on the islands of Salsette and Elephanta, and took us very much by surprise. The caves are on a hill about two miles or more from the travellers' bungalow. We entered seemingly into the heart of the mountain, and found ourselves in the body of the temple or cave, which is separated from the side-aisles by fifteen columns of magnificent design and workmanship; on each side, on the upper part of each of these columns, are two kneeling elephants, and on each elephant are two seated human figures, sometimes a male and female, with their arms around each other's shoulders sometimes the figures are both female. The effect is remarkably striking. The chaitya[59] is plain and very solid, and behind it are seven plain octagonal pillars without any ornamentation. The interior of the temple seems to have been lined with woodwork. Right in front of the arched roof or hall is a second screen, as at the great cave at Salsette. It is composed of plain octagonal columns with pilasters. Over these is a mass of wall crowned with a superstructure of four dwarf pillars; the whole of this appears to have been covered with wooden ornaments.[60] These are thought to have been a broad balcony in front of the plain wall, supported by two bold wooden brackets from the two piers. This balcony is thought to have served the purpose of a music-gallery or nagara khánah, as are still found in the Jain temples to-day. Everything here is executed in the finest style; the bas-reliefs, the windows, the doors, the halls, roofs, vestibules, and figures are each, one and all, beautifully executed. The colossal figure of the Buddha perched on a lotos throne, with angels hovering around him, his hands folded in everlasting repose resting on his knees, is grand and imposing. On the walls are carved many a beautiful flower, some not unlike those we passed in our morning's ride, with strange characters and symbol after symbol replete with the wisdom of the Buddhists. Rows of half-nude gigantic women, elephants, lions, birds, and beasts relate in solid stone the triumphs of Buddhism over Brahmanism. Dr. Stevenson dates the building of this temple at seventy years before Christ; executed, according to him, by the emperor Devabhute, under the care of Xenocrates or Dhennuka-Kati. There has been, however, much doubt thrown by recent explorers on the dates given by Dr. Stevenson. The inscriptions under the gateway are thought to place beyond dispute the dates of these scattered excavations, so similar in point of architecture, at the second century before Christ and not long after the great Buddhist dispersion from North-western Hindostan by the Brahmans.
A number of queer-looking Brahman priests of the Sivite[61] sect, who take care of these caves and encourage pilgrims to them, came out to see us, and, finding our pundit to be a countryman, though he was not of their sect, invited us to witness their worship in a vihara adjoining.
It was difficult to believe that the quiet, dark, handsome men who spoke to us could be such dupes as they seemed while at worship. In the largest of the caves was a huge, rude machine very like a common wheel, in the centre of which was a round place for a fire, and another and smaller fireplace on each of the seven spokes of the wheel. To the wheel was attached a long pole, and to this pole was tied a large-eyed, patient-looking Brahmanee cow with bells around her neck. To the cord which fastened these bells was tied a long rope, and this rope was held by a Yoghee, a sort of mystic Brahman priest, who had nothing on but a wisp of straw around his loins, and a half-starved-looking dog at his heels.
The moment the sun sank behind the mountains a white-robed priest issued from one of the smaller caves and placed a little earthen lamp, containing a long wick and some cocoanut oil, in each one of the receptacles for the fires. This done, the deafening sounds of multitudinous drums were heard from the secret recesses of the intermediate caves. At this, away went the Yoghee, the dog, the cow, and the wheel, with the seven tiny lamps revolving around the larger one in the centre. This furious dance continued, the dog barking, the cow lowing, and the drums beating, for an hour, and then another Yoghee stepped forward and relieved the first one. There were twelve priests, or rather ascetics, for the twelve hours of the night, and this was the celebrated "puja chakra," or wheel-worship, of the ancient Brahmans.
We could not wait, of course, to see the end of this strange, wild, deafening performance. I nearly fainted from the oppressive heat and disagreeable odors of the cave, and was obliged to seek relief in the open air. Here we found the Yoghee who had begun the dance seated on a stone clothed in a long dusky mantle and evidently enjoying the evening breeze. He answered me in pure Hindostanee, and told me that the central fire or lamp represented the Surya, or the Sun, the smaller ones the seven planets, naming each one—Soma, the Moon; Mangala, Mars; Buddh, Mercury; Virhaspati, Jupiter; Sukra, Venus; Sani, Saturn; Deva Bheemi, the Earth. The cow stood for Providence, or, as he termed it, the All-giver; he himself for mankind; while the dog was the emblem of the human family; his dance was in honor of the solar system.
A look of supreme satisfaction overspread his face as he informed me that the deep spiritual meaning which was conveyed to his heart was not in the wheel or in the fires, but in himself as he thought of the efficacy of the daily sacrifice which he offered to the gods, which convinced me that he at least firmly believed that the return of the sun-god to his place in the heavens every morning was due to his efforts and that of his brethren in performing from one end of the year to the other this self-imposed mystic night-dance in honor of the solar system.
The moon had risen as we put our little tattoos'[62] faces Khandala-ward and trotted away from the Karli village and the Hindoo ascetics. We had a very amusing half-broken and half-rattling talk with our pundit, who insisted that there was nothing more holy in the way of worship than the "puja chakra," which we had just seen. When my husband irreverently inquired, "If the wheel-worship was not a gentle hint to the sun to be up and about his business every morning," our good guide and teacher became suddenly grave and silent, and not another word would he say to us on the subject of this curious worship.
Next day we climbed a hill to see the old fort of Lok-garha, which was twice captured from the Mahrattas by the East India Company's generals. It occupies a commanding position, and we enjoyed the view from it. This grand old Mahratta fortress is full of historical interest. It was here that the beautiful and astute widow of Nana Furnaveez, the most famous of the Mahratta ministers, took refuge, and the killadhar, or commander of the fort, obtained for her from General Wellesley not only a guarantee of safety, but an annual pension of twelve thousand rupees. On our return ride we passed through a wild but beautiful part of the hills. We saw and heard the stately pea-fowl that are found in this neighborhood; they added very much to the wild, luxuriant beauty of the woods.
On the following morning we bade adieu to the beautiful Bohr Ghauts. There was a great deal more of loveliness to be seen for many a mile until we reached the slope of the mountains, which is gradual rather than abrupt, as it is on the opposite side, and after that it was of no consequence at all where we looked. We were riding down a bleak, rugged, desolate country, slightly inclined; this was that immense triangular plateau between the Ghaut districts on the east and west and the great Vindhiya chain on the north. As we approached Poonah we found the views more interesting—fields of wheat, maize, orchards of fruit trees, plantain-groves, and the peepul, tamarind, and palm waving above them all. When we reached the bridge that spans the Moota River, it was near sunset. A flood of light poured from the sky over hill and dale and valley, gilding with unusual brilliancy the venerable roofs of Parbuttee and the half-ruined turretted walls of the Peishwa's palace.
Poonah, with the adjoining military station at Kirkee, where the scenery, owing to the junction of the Moota and Moola Rivers, is very picturesque, has a very respectable English population. But the majority of the natives are almost exclusively Brahmans of the Deccan and Hindoos from various parts of Hindostan.