But the saddest sights of all were those which recalled the foul treachery of the previous summer. Nowhere did the British soldiers so long to close with the sepoys, hand to hand and steel against steel, as at Cawnpore. Ill fared it, then, with any natives of that town whom the soldiers suspected of having helped, or even looked on, at that dire tragedy. It is to be feared that the innocent sometimes suffered for the sins of the guilty, for the soldiers were not in a mood to discriminate, and they did not know then that sepoys, even of the rebel regiments, had absolutely refused to obey the Nana, when he gave the order for the women and children to be murdered. The Sikh and Pathan allies had old scores to pay off against the Oudh sepoys, and they were with difficulty restrained. More than one harmless Hindu, who had taken no part in the outrage--who had perhaps risked his life for his master--fell a victim to their vengeance. Our two Aurungpore officers were gazing upon the waters of the Ganges, some distance east of the ghaut, silent and meditative. Ted was picturing the scene of the massacre, and the terrible agonies of the women as they saw their husbands being killed off by the concealed marksmen without a chance to retaliate; and the horror of all as the survivors were dragged to shore amid the gleeful shouts of the ruffians. Perhaps a pandy had been lying down there where he and Alec stood. His hand went to his sword-hilt at the thought. Paterson on the other hand was trying to realize that this muddy stream was actually the great Ganges, the wonderful river of which he had heard and read so much in childhood--Mother Ganges, the deity of the Hindus. A nearly-naked Hindu entered the sacred stream, a brass vessel in his hand. Wading until his knees were covered he dipped the loto in the filthy water and drank therefrom, or rather filled his mouth and let it trickle out again. Then he splashed his body from head to foot, and presently crouched down in the water and prayed to Mother Gunga. "Well," observed Ted with disgust, "if that chap ain't poisoned he deserves to be purified. Ugh! drinking that filth!" "He keeps looking at us," said Alec. "I wonder what he wants." "No good, I'll be bound. He's praying now." The devotee came to the bank and began to smear himself with holy mud, facing in turn north, east, south, and west. A number of Hindus were now in the water, but none was so devout as he, whom the others watched in respectful admiration. Quite suddenly he raised his arm on high, and, fixing the two with his rolling eyes, he cursed them aloud. Pretending not to notice, the boys turned away, but the _yogi_ ran after them, the holy water dripping from his hair and body as he ran.