As the procession draws near the palace the way is guarded by native troops, and these exhibit another striking scene. Their ranks do not present the monotony of Western uniforms. Each band of the Prince's body-guard wears the dress of that part of his dominions whence it was drawn, and a bewildering variety of garbs and arms may be seen. One troop is dressed like the Saracens who fought in the Crusades. They wear armour of chain mail and glittering steel helmets, and carry lances and great curved scimitars. Next, the line is guarded by warriors in massive turbans, clothed in robes of rich stuffs, and armed with sword, spear, and shield, and with quaint firelocks slung over the shoulder. Next stand men in gleaming breastplates, whose helmets are sharply pointed, and whose girdles are stuffed with daggers and pistols. Others bear huge maces or heavy axes, and, in fine, almost every weapon with which man has ever waged war may be seen in the lines of stalwart warriors who keep the way.

At the palace itself the outer halls are filled with the nobles and chiefs who owe allegiance to the Prince. They are armed and equipped like their followers without, but in more splendid fashion. Jewels glitter and glow on great silken turbans; robes are stiff with gold and costly embroidery; girdles are heavy with weapons, whose handles are richly chased and set with diamonds and rubies; pearls and emeralds and sapphires flash from necklet or armlet.

Through these the visitors pass on to inner halls, where they are received by members of the reigning family and escorted to the hall of audience.

Here, in a noble chamber, the Prince will be seated in state on a splendid throne. On either side stand attendants, waving fans made of feathers or of horsehair. The latter are only used to fan a Prince, and are the emblems of sovereignty.

The English guests are seated on chairs, and the nobles and chiefs, who have followed them into the room, seat themselves on the beautiful carpets spread over the floor. All except the guests are barefooted, for the native company have left their gilded slippers outside the chamber.

The Prince and his guests converse, and very often presents are given and offered—shawls, silks, brocade, or jewels. Perhaps nautch-girls will come in and dance. They wear robes of shining gauze from head to foot, and they dance with slow, graceful movements, often singing as they move.

At last the Prince calls for essence of roses with the leaf of the betel-nut, and this is the signal that the interview is over. Now the guests will be conducted over the palace, to see the public rooms and courts; but the zenana, the women's apartments, are never shown; nor is the visitor supposed even to glance towards the lattices and trellised windows, behind which the native ladies are probably having a good look at him. The evening will close with a grand illumination and display of fireworks, managed with the utmost skill. From a terrace, so placed that the dark smooth mirror of a lake lies between himself and the illuminations, the visitor looks upon a fairy scene. The pavilions, the courts, the balconies, the lines of the palace itself, will be picked out in points of fire, and the whole is mirrored in the water. Then the fireworks leap into the sky—rockets, great globes of many colours, fountains spouting golden fire, and pictures of forts outlined in flame and firing heavy broadsides from mimic cannon. Finally the visitor climbs the ladder set against the side of his elephant, while the band blares out, "God Save the King," and goes home to dream of the wonderful things he has seen, and to try to disentangle the host of pictures which dance before his eyes when he reflects upon his visit to a native Court.

CHAPTER XV

THE RELIGIOUS MENDICANTS

India is the land of religious mendicants. They swarm in every part of it; they are seen moving along the country roads and in the streets of villages and towns; they flock around every shrine.