If the modern pushing batch of young engineers, who have duly served through their "articles," were as particular in ascertaining the highest known floods of the rivers they presume to bridge, as the "old fogies" that designed the Barâkar bridge, we should hear of fewer bridges washed away every year. Throughout the length and breadth of Chutia Nâgpur and Bihâr (the Bihâr old district) I have, from personal enquiry, ascertained that that year (I forget the year now) on records of the flood of which the Barâkar bridge waterway was calculated was a year of such a terrific flood, that even people who remember it will not, when desired to point out the highest flood-level, point to the flood mark of that year, But to the next highest. Let them, however, be asked point-blank about the flood of that year, and the inquirer will then see that his informant did not point out the highest known flood-level, from an impression that it was such a very rare occurrence as to be very unlikely to happen again; but what has happened once may happen again, at however long an interval, and for works intended to be permanent should, if possible, be provided against.
Besides the temples, there are numerous miniature temples,—things that, if Buddhist, would be called votive stupas or votive chaityas, but being Brahmanical, must, I suppose, be called votive sivalas; some are miniature single-cell temples (solid of course), others are pillars, most probably sati monuments, and sculptured on one face with the lingam and argha, or other devices. None are inscribed.
One half-ruined temple now stands on the very brink of the perpendicular wall of clay, which here forms the river bank, and must tumble in next rains. In my last visit I saw some wells exposed by the river cutting away the earth on one face of it; these wells were built of brick set without cement; at intervals bands of bricks set on edge formed the well ring, instead of being set on their beds as usual; in these bands the bricks were set with narrow intervals between them, and not touching at their inner edges. I was inclined to think that they were the foundations of temples, but am now of opinion they were wells, the rings of bricks on edge, set with narrow slits between them, being obviously meant to allow of a free percolation of water into the well; and although now, wells in the positions I saw would be superfluous, or rather absurd, they were perhaps not quite unnecessary when the river ran a hundred yards further off, and was difficult of approach by reason of the rocks,
