The fakeer assured the captain, that not only was the memory of the saint venerated by man, but that it was also held in great respect by the wild beasts of the adjoining jungles, particularly by the tigers, one of whom came regularly every Friday night, and swept up the floor of the durgah with his tail. It happened that the day of our visit was the very one on which the tiger was wont to perform this office; Captain Belfield told the fakeer that he had a great desire to witness it, and had some intention of sitting up for the purpose. The fakeer assured him, however, that it would be utterly useless, for the animal had such an insuperable aversion for all but true believers, that, if any other were near, he would certainly not make his appearance.[40] The next day we passed Puttergatta, a woody prominence, where there are some caves, and a pretty white Hindoo temple. I went on shore to examine them, and found Chattermohun Ghose paying his respects to a many-armed god, with goggle eyes, and a vermilion mouth, seated far back in the dim recess of a temple. I have already hinted, that I had a regard for Chattermohun, so I thought this a favourable opportunity for converting him to Christianity, which I forthwith set myself about to achieve, breaking ground by a few pungent sneers at his idol. I found Chattermohun, however, a doughty polemic, and did not make the impression I expected. “Master will believe what master’s father and mother have teach him for true; Hindoo man do same thing. S’pose I make change, then will lose caste—no one ispek to me; this very had thing; too much for family man.” There was no making anything of him; he was obstinate, so I gave him up. I must not, however, omit one little incident, which my proselytizing efforts elicited. “Master tell Hindoo religion got too many god—too much veneration for image. Master’s Europe religion have plenty god too.” “What do you mean, you foolish fellow?” said I. “You don’t know what you are talking about.” “Yes, sare, I know very well. I one Europe book got tell all about that.” To cut the matter short, Chattermohun afterwards showed me his book, which was the Roman Pantheon, with cuts representing the deities of Olympus! Passing the two picturesque rocks of Colgong, which stand out in the river, boldly breasting its current, we in due time reached the headland of Sultangunge, opposite to which is the romantic islet of Junghera, with its white temple and curious sculptures. Here our budgerow was boarded by two sturdy beggars, who levy contributions from all passers-by; one of whom was the Hindoo fakeer from the rock, the other his Mahomedan _vis-à-vis_, of the main land, ministers of rival creeds, but agreed on that point on which we everywhere find an astonishing unanimity, the _auri sacra fames_.