11th.—In passing the Burriaree rocks I felt a strange sort of anxious delight in the danger of the passage, there being only room for one vessel to pass through. The serang, a Calcutta man, had never been up the Jumna; and as we cut through the narrow pass I stood on deck watching ahead for a sunken rock. Had there been too little water, with what a crash we should have gone on the rocks! The river is full of them; they show their black heads a foot or two above the stream that rushes down fiercely around or over them: just now we ran directly upon one. The vessel swerved right round, but was brought up again soon after.
We track or sail from 6 A.M., and moor the boats at 7 P.M. On anchoring off Deeya I received two matchlocks, sent to me by my husband, on account of his having heard that many salt-boats on the Jumna have been plundered lately; the matchlocks are to be fired off of an evening when the watch is set, to show we are on our guard. At night a chaprāsī and two dāndees hold their watch, armed, on deck; and two chaukidārs (watchmen) from the nearest village keep watch on shore. My little fine-eared terrier is on board, and I sleep without a thought of robbery or danger. If you take a guard from the nearest village, you are pretty safe; if not, perhaps the chaukidārs themselves will rob you, in revenge for your not employing them.
PARISNĀTH.
12th.—The passage off Mhow was difficult,—rocks and sands. We were on a sandbank several times. The temple of Parisnāth at Pabosa was to me a very interesting object. At Allahabad I procured a small white marble image of this god, and while considering whom it might represent, the moonshee came into the room. The man is a high-church Hindoo: on seeing the image, he instantly covered his eyes and turned away, expressing his disapprobation. "That is the idol Parisnāth," said he, "a man of the pure faith may not look upon it, and will not worship in a temple desecrated by its presence." There are about four hundred heretical Hindoos at Prāg. The image is
