Sehwan is erected on an elevation within a few hundred yards of the river, having many clumps of trees, especially to the south. The houses are built of clay, often three stories high, with wooden pillars supporting the floors. To the north of the town are the remains of a very ancient and extensive fortress, sixty of its bastions being still visible; and in the centre the vestiges of a palace still known as Raja Bhartrihari-ka-Mahall, who is said to have reigned here when driven from Ujjain by his brother Vikramaditya. Although centuries have flown since the Hindus had any power in these regions, their traditions have remained. They relate that Vikrama, the eldest son of Gandharap Sen, was so devoted to his wife, that he neglected the affairs of government, which made his brother expostulate with him. This coming to his wife’s ears, she insisted on the banishment of Vikrama. Soon after a celebrated ascetic reached his court, and presented to Bhartrihari the Amarphul, or ‘fruit of immortality,’ the reward of years of austere devotion at the shrine of Mahadeo. Bhartrihari gave it to his wife, who bestowed it on an elephant-driver, her paramour; he to a common prostitute, his mistress; who expecting to be highly rewarded for it, carried it to the raja. Incensed at such a decided proof of infidelity, Bhartrihari, presenting himself before his queen, asked for the prize—she had lost it. Having produced it, she was so overwhelmed with shame that she rushed from his presence, and precipitating herself from the walls of the palace, was dashed to pieces. Raja Bhartrihari consoled himself with another wife, Rani Pingula, to whose charms he in like manner became enslaved; but experience had taught him suspicion. Having one day gone a-hunting, his huntsman shot a deer, whose doe coming to the spot, for a short time contemplated the body, then threw herself on his antlers and died. The Shikari, or huntsman, who had fallen asleep, was killed by a huge snake. His wife came to seek him, supposing him still asleep, but at length seeing he was dead, she collected leaves, dried reeds, and twigs, and having made a pyre, placed the body under it; after the usual perambulations she set fire to, and perished with it. The raja, who witnessed these proceedings, went home and conversed with Pingulani on these extraordinary Satis, especially the Shikari’s, which he called unparalleled. Pingulani disputed the point, and said it was the sacrifice of passion, not of love; had it been the latter, grief would have required no pyre. Some time after, having again gone a-hunting, Bhartrihari recalled this conversation, and having slain a deer, he dipped his clothes in the blood, and sent them by a confidential messenger to report his death in combat with a tiger. Pingulani heard the details; she wept not, neither did she speak, but prostrating herself before the sun, ceased to exist.