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Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: CHAPTER III. THE INDIAN FESTIVAL. It was in the evening in the month of October, that season of the year when Nature puts on her most beauteous dress, tricked out in brightest verdure, the gift of the departed rains. The slanting rays of the sun illumed the landscape, shedding a wondrous brightness over each tower and pinnacle, when I found myself standing, a solitary European, amidst a crowd of our subjects, celebrating in pomp and joyousness the national festival of India, the Eam-Lila. The whole of the great city had poured itself out, in numbers numberless; the streets were thronged with gaily-clad thousands; the houses and walls were lined with expectants of the coming procession. Bright drapery hung in festoons from the roof tops, or was stretched across from balcony to balcony; streamers floated in the breeze; and the cheerful hum of busy voices, blended with strains of Oriental music, sounded gratefully in my ears. Seated under an ancient tree, whose branches had witnessed many such a festival, on a rural throne sat the heroes of the pageant, the representatives of those whom the crowds had assembled to honour. In thecentre was the royal youth, who gladly sacrificed a throne to meet the wishes of a parent, and on each side of him the brother and the wife, the faithful companions of his exile. Dressed was he in that fanciful costume, to which antiquity has given its sanction. In his hand was the bow, and on his shoulders was bound a plaything quiver of now-useless arrows. Flowers, the gay offerings of nature, were heaped on the steps of the throne; garlands hung round the necks of him and his companions. Each subject, as he approached to do homage to the mimic monarch, brought tribute of flowers and fruit. Each felt pleased and rewarded by a garland from the roy…
