The entrance to the caves is clothed
with luxuriant verdure.
The day following a friend drove us with his own team out to Bandora,
about twelve miles from Bombay, where he had a charming bungalow in a
wild spot close to the sea. We drove through the Mahim Woods--a grand,
wild, straggling forest of palms of all kinds, acacias, and banyan trees.
The bungalow was rural, solitary, and refreshing, something after the
fashion of the Eagle's Nest we had made for ourselves at Bludan in the
old days in Syria. Towards sunset the Duke of Sutherland (who, then
Lord Stafford, had visited us at Damascus) and other friends arrived,
and we had a very jolly dinner and evening. It was the eve of a great
feast, and young boys dressed like tigers came and performed some native
dancing, with gestures of fighting and clawing one another, which was
exceedingly graceful.
The feast was the _Tabut_, or Muharram, a Moslem miracle play; and on
our return to Bombay I went to see it. I had to go alone, because
Richard had seen it before, and none of the other Europeans apparently
cared to see it at all. The crowd was so great I had to get a
policeman's help. They let me into the playhouse at last. The whole
place was a blaze of lamps and mirrors. A brazier filled with wood
was flaring up, and there was a large white tank of water. It was an
extraordinary sight. The fanaticism, frenzy, and the shrieks of the
crowd made a great impression on me.
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