An interesting side-point in this gradual mixing up of the ghost and the stone, the god and the image, is shown in a gradual change of detail as to the mode of making offerings at the tomb or shrine. On the great trilithon in Tonga, {109}Miss Gordon-Cumming tells us, a bowl of kava was placed on a horizontal stone. Here it must have been supposed that the ghost itself issued forth (perhaps by night) to drink it, as the serpent which represented the spirit of Anchises glided from the tomb to lick up the offerings presented by Æneas. Gradually, however, as the stone and the ghost get more closely connected in idea the offering is made to the monument itself; though in the earlier stages the convenience of using the flat altar-stone (wherever such exists) as a place of sacrifice for victims probably masks the transition even to the worshippers themselves. Dr. Wise saw in the Himalayas a group of stones “erected to the memory of the petty Rajahs of Kolam,” where “some fifty or sixty unfortunate women sacrificed themselves.” The blood, in particular, is offered up to the ghost; and “the cup-hollows which have been found in menhirs and dolmens,” says Captain Conder, “are the indications of the libations, often of human blood, once poured on these stones by heathen worshippers.” “Cups are often found,” says a good Scotch observer, “on stones connected with the monuments of the dead, such as on the covering stones of kistvaens, particularly those of the short or rarest form; on the flat stones of cromlechs; and on stones of chambered graves.” On the top of the cairn at Glen Urquhart, on Loch Ness, is an oblong mass of slate-stone, obviously sepulchral, and marked with very numerous cups. When the stones are upright the notion of offering the blood to the upper part, which represents the face or mouth, becomes very natural, and forms a distinct step in the process of anthropomorphisation of the headstone into the idol.