During the first three years of his life, Oman certainly gave no evidence of unusual characteristics. When he was two, and his mother nineteen, a girl was born into the family of the high priest, which fact, however, in no way diminished Oman’s importance. He was now at a delightful age; and even Gokarna sometimes fell from dignity and allowed his son to drag himself to his feet by aid of the paternal leg, and then, by means of the same member, permitted himself to be urged out to witness the antics of some badgered kitten, or peep into the first home of half a dozen tumbling puppies; which creatures the child never molested, but would watch by the hour with solemn delight. In his third year, little Oman underwent the ceremony of the _Kudakarman_, or tonsure, by which his rough and tumbly black hair was clipped close to his head, and thenceforth kept so:—a very comfortable bit of religion, considering the climate of Bul-Ruknu. This concluded the ceremonies of babyhood, and was the last he should have to undergo till the day of the great initiation, or second birth, when he would become a true Brahman, a student of the Vedas. This period, from his third to his eighth year, was the happiest and freest of his life. He was now emancipated from the close supervision of his mother, and allowed to go forth alone to explore the wonders and the glories of the town. All the simple and unfathomable joys of childhood were there, awaiting his pleasure. First of all were the children; for Bul-Ruknu swarmed with them; and, boy and girl, Brahman or Sudra, they were turned out to live in the streets till it came time for them to take up the duties of life:—the boys, from seven to twelve, to begin their Vedic studies or their slavery; the girls, from ten to fourteen, to marry. Little Oman, so far brought up to the most rigid solitude, now entered the world, and found hordes of his own kind awaiting him. Forthwith he offered himself to them. They accepted him readily into their numbers, and let him find his own place there. They ranked him nowhere, for their spirit was entirely democratic. They were the only species of Indian humanity that did not, openly or secretly, recognize caste. With them, it was not a Brahman who must lead, but the boy who could fight best; it was not the girl of wealthiest parents that was most popular, but she that had greatest talent for making dolls out of straw and rags.