The antiquity of everything in India strikes us very much. The women in their muslin draperies drawing water at the wells bring to mind some Biblical picture. Their earthenware jars and pitchers resemble the old Egyptian vessels, while the rude ox-carts, with their clumsy wooden wheels, are like the Roman chariots.
As we drive along we are delighted with quaint carvings over gateways, wayside temples, and rude drawings on the wall, representing hydra-headed monsters, or blue and scarlet elephants, meeting with their trunks in deadly combat.
We are first aware of being in the neighbourhood of the temple, by the monkeys who are perching on the housetops and swinging in the trees. Fed regularly by the attendants, numbers swarm in and about the temple, fat, portly fellows of a rich orange colour, all "living deities" to the Hindu.
The Durga Kund is built in a graceful pyramidal form, quaintly carved with all the animals of the Hindu mythology. It is painted a dark red colour, and the porch at the entrance is brought into relief by silver lines. Here hangs a large bronze bell, the gift, it is said, of a European magistrate. The silver goddess is seated inside a shrine, and before the Revengeful Durga stands a bowl of blood, mingling with some floral offerings, The fat Brahmins in charge collected a crowd of monkeys in the court by scattering some grain. From all parts they sprang up, mothers with their babes clinging round their bodies, and patriarchal monkeys gibbering and swinging down from the airy pinnacles of the temple. Outside we noticed the wooden block and hatchet, smeared with blood, where the kids are killed for sacrifice; and the monkey-tree, a hollow tree where all the baby monkeys are born.
There was no time to visit any more of the 1000 temples of Benares, many of which are dedicated to strange uses; such as that of the Goddess of Hunger, where a large number of beggars are daily fed; that of Dandpan, the policeman of Benares, whose priest chastises the offender against law and order with a birch of peacock's feathers; or the Manikarnika, a well of putrid water, held very sacred, and supposed to have been filled in the first instance by the perspiration of Vishnu; nor the Well of Jali, where the future is seen reflected in the water at noon, the only hour when the sun's rays reach its surface.
Then we visited a bazaar or chowk. It is a picturesque little world, very busy about its own business, and confined in a thoroughfare only a few feet wide. Above, the gables of the houses nearly meet, and the overhanging balconies with wooden carvings obscure the light. Cross-legged on the step over the street sat hundreds of active workers, with their varied merchandise spread out before them, open to the street. Of course we were in search of the Benares brass-work, and with great interest we watched the simple method by which the elaborate patterns are traced. An ordinary nail run deftly up and down, and gently hammered on the brass vase or bowl, forms the fretted ground, while the pattern is picked out carefully afterwards. Quite young boys were employed on this and on the kincob work, the gold and filagree embroidery on cloth for which Benares is also famous. "Up two pair back," and in dark workshops, we found and chose what we wanted.
Whilst the inevitable waiting for the packing up ensued, we were summoned to the balcony by the sound of the tom-tom, and the shrill and plaintive note of the bagpipe flute. Down the narrow mediæval street, carrying us back to the twelfth century, came a gay procession, preceded by a merry crowd, pushing a way for itself. It was a wedding-party returning after the ceremony. The boy bridegroom mounted on a white horse was being led in the centre, the girl bride followed in the same way, and then there came the relations and friends carrying the presents and offerings in kind and produce.
Returning home through the bird-market we saw a disgusting act of cruelty. Four crows were lying on their backs on the ground, their feet and wings tied together, while a fiendish old man with white hair kept watch over them. For two or three days he would have kept them like this, without food or water, trembling with fright, on the chance of some pious Hindu passing by and paying a few pice for their release. We indignantly gave him an anna, and had the real happiness of seeing them all released and fly away, though one we feared still had his feet tied together, as he only just reached and dropped on to the wall in safety. The natives are hideously cruel to animals. They twist the tail of a bullock round and round till you hear the muscles and sinews cracking. It is rare to see a cart drawn by a bullock without some running sore where the yoke chafes, and donkeys and horses are so tightly hobbled that they cannot move or lie down.