"They are hungry," said Chola. "It would not please thee to be scolded if thou wert hungry." Then he and Mahala amused themselves by throwing pieces of cake to the doves who were picking up their food around the carts, and the green paroquets which came flying out of the trees, where they had been roosting all the night. They did not see the little Brahmin again. The curtains of his litter were still tightly closed when, after much shouting and running about, the bullocks were at last yoked into the wagon and the little procession rolled away down the dusty road long before the sun came up over the distant groves of mango-trees. "What art thou guarding so carefully, Shriya?" asked her brother. He and Chola were walking beside the wagon for a change. The lattices were raised so Shriya and her mother and aunt could enjoy the fresh air. "They are my dolls," said the little girl, sadly, as she patted the bundle beside her. "I take them as an offering to the holy river." "Poor little woman! Must thou sacrifice thy toys, too?" smiled her uncle as he patted her head. "It is right that she should," answered her mother; for she, too, had thrown her dolls into the sacred river when she was a child, at the yearly festival, when the children must sacrifice their playthings to the great river. The boys suddenly looked gloomy, for they remembered that the day would come only too soon when they, too, would have to destroy all their toys. Chola wondered to himself as he walked along if he might not at least save the little tiger, painted a bright yellow with red spots, which was his favourite toy. But the children could not be sad long, with so much going on about them, and they were soon shouting and laughing to a group of children by the roadside who were amusing themselves playing at making "graves." They were heaping up little mounds of dust and sticking flowers in them, which is the nearest thing little Hindu children have to "mud pies." For several days our little party plodded along the flat, dusty road, camping out at night at the _paraos_, until at last they drew near the "Holy City of Benares." CHAPTER V THE CHILDREN SEE BENARES AND GO HOME FOR A WEDDING ON the road to Benares they found many other people going the same way as they themselves. There were old people, young people, children, beggars of all kinds, priests of all faiths, sick people and well people,--all going to the "Holy City" carrying offerings of flowers and fruits, and all intending to bathe in the Sacred River. Finally our party made camp just outside the city gates. Here they left the wagon and servants and made their way through the crowded, dirty streets until they finally came down to the banks of the river Ganges. Such a sight as met their eyes! "Oh!" said Chola, "all the temples in the world must be here." "And all the people, too," said Mahala.