This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
CONFESSIONS OF A THUG.
71

We waited for some time; and at last, from a tree over our heads, the loud twittering of the small tree-owl was heard.

"Jey Bhowanee! Victory to Bhowanee!" cried the whole of the leaders; and my father embraced me, saying,

"Be of good cheer, my son; the omen is most favourable. We could hardly have expected such an one: thy acceptation is complete."

I was then reconducted to the apartment, and a pickaxe, that holy symbol of our profession, was placed in my right hand, upon a white handkerchief. I was desired to raise it as high as my breast; and an oath, a fearful oath, was then dictated to me, which I repeated, raising my left into the air, and invoking the goddess to whose service I was devoting myself. The same oath was repeated by me on the blessed Koran, after which a small piece of consecrated Goor, or coarse sugar, was given me to eat, and my inauguration was complete. My father received the congratulations of the assembly on the fortunate issue of the ceremony, and he then addressed me as follows.

"My son, thou hast taken upon thee the profession which is of all the most ancient and