In the first place, it will be noticed that it is always a _mango-tree_ that is made to grow, and no other shrub. Now, why is this? Surely it is not because the mango is the only tree in India which is ready to the hand of the fakir, for we know that there are numerous others that might be made to grow. And yet it is always the mango! The conjuror, S.S. Baldwin (from whose book, _Secrets of Mahatma Land Explained_, I shall have occasion to quote later on), asked a native conjuror if he would make a young palm, a tea plant or a banana tree, grow for him, and received the response: “Nay, sahib, cannot do. Mango-tree the only one can make.” I repeat, why is this? The reason is that it is the peculiar construction of the mango leaf that renders the trick, as presented, possible at all. The leaf and twigs of the mango-tree are exceedingly tough and pliable, almost like leather, and can be folded or compressed into a very small space without breaking the stems and the leaves, and, when this pressure is released, the leaves will resume their former expanded condition very rapidly, without showing any traces of the folding process. The leaves can be turned upon themselves and rolled into a tight ball, in which folded condition they occupy very little space, and yet will resume their extended condition when this pressure is released. And this brings me to the heart of my explanation. The mango seed that is placed in the mound of earth is especially prepared before the performance, by the fakir, in the following manner: He splits the seed open, scoops out its contents, dries it somewhat, then places within it a shoot of a mango-tree folded and compressed so as to fit into the mango seed. It must be remembered that the mango seed is no small thing, but is about two inches long (sometimes more) by an inch to an inch and a half broad. It resembles slightly the mussel shell found on the seashore. It will be obvious that a seed of this size might contain a good deal of material, and if the mango leaves were folded into a small compass, would hold a good-sized twig. The leaves are folded very carefully, and are prepared in a special manner. The upper surface of the leaf must be folded on itself, and that surface, skillfully treated and watered, will scarcely show a crease on a superficial examination. The creasing which the under surface would show is, of course, concealed from the spectator’s view.