Emerging from one of the most barren and desolate tracts of country that it is possible to imagine, even the tombs of Tattah, or City of the Dead, as it is called in the language of the natives, proved an agreeable distraction to us. Tattah itself is a small, wretchedly built town, containing little more than a thousand inhabitants, who are for the most part of the Moslem religion. The few Hindoos who reside here constitute the wealthier part of the trading community, but influential as this fact would pre-suppose them, they are a persecuted and oppressed race, the privilege of erecting places of worship within the precincts of the town being not only denied them, but even the free exercise of their religious rites. Aggressions of the most wanton and tyrannical nature, and murders committed under circumstances of the most shocking barbarity, and having their origin solely in religious jealousy, are matters of no unfrequent occurrence here. The Hindoos are consequently obliged to resort to the caves of the neighbouring mountains, to practise their religious ceremonies, but the relentless intolerance of their persecutors pursues them even there. During our short stay we saw the bodies of two of the proscribed race, who had been found murdered in one of their concealed temples. The tombs of Tattah stand on a gentle eminence, at a short distance from the town: they are of circular construction, and are, as nearly as I could judge, from seventy to eighty feet in circumference, and from thirty to forty feet in height. They are capped with domes, but their external appearance presents nothing graceful or ornamental to the eye. The interior is gained by a staircase, which ascends to an aperture forming the entrance, about midway in the building, and a rudely constructed ladder conducts the visitor downward to the basement, where the bodies lie. The interior of the dome is lined with blue tiles richly ornamented with arabesques and inscriptions from the Koran. There are about a dozen of these remarkable monuments and they are clustered together, without arrangement or regard for effect. Of the many sketches taken at the time I have not seen one which conveys a correct idea of their details. Although visited by nearly the whole of the troops, it is a fact highly creditable to their good taste and feeling that no mischief or desecration of any sort was committed. Sir John Keane, in a general order issued before our departure, took occasion expressly to allude to this circumstance, in terms alike honourable to himself and to us.