It was July; and in Bul-Ruknu, Vindhya-sheltered, the rains were over. From now till September one could but avoid the open sunlight and sleep as much as the human system would permit. This afternoon the heat poured blindly over the mud and bamboo village, and even animals and children had deserted the streets and sought shelter from the molten sky. One woman, her head and body wrapped round in bright-colored cotton, darted out of the close veranda of her own dwelling and hurried swiftly down the street toward the spot where, set a little off by itself, stood the largest and best-built house in the town. Entering the veranda of this she found seated there, on a pile of straw cushions, her half-sister, Kota, wife of Gokarna, the head-man, and at the same time, which was unusual, chief priest of Siva, the village deity. Greetings passed between the two; and Kota, causing her sister to sit beside her, clapped her hands for a slave who presently appeared in the doorway, a timid, unkempt girl of fifteen. “Bring us fruits, Jensa,” commanded her mistress. Then, as the girl disappeared, she turned to Hilka: “’Tis six days since I have seen thee. Are thy gods propitious?” “Yesterday, at sacrifice, the omens for the harvest were bad. But Gokarna has told thee that. How art thou?” Kota stirred a little, uncomfortably, and lifted her languorous eyes to her sister’s face. Just then the slave came back with custard-apples, early mangoes, and pomegranates in a basket. Kota took them from her, proffered the dish to her visitor, who accepted one of the mangoes, and then, while both began to eat, Kota said slowly: “I am not happy, my sister. My mind is troubled. I am filled with melancholy and foreboding concerning the child. I see many strange visions in my sleep. The gods refuse me peace.” “Art thou thus, Kota? That is not right. Yes, I can see thou art not well. Let Gokarna offer special sacrifice for thee.” “He hath done so twice already since the _Pumsavana_. But ah, Hilka, I cannot speak my heart to him. It seems to me as if my thoughts were not my own. They are put into my mind by evil spirits. I fear them, and I fear the end. Alas, shall the soul of this child be evil? I fear it! I fear it!” She spoke with a nervous intensity that made a strong impression upon Hilka, who knew well her sister’s lazy, thoughtless temperament. It was the first time she had ever perceived any strong feeling in her. Now she said anxiously: “Go to Naka, at the end of the village, and get a charm from him to ward off the _Devas_.” “Hush! Gokarna is coming! Do not speak before him of charms, or he would scold us both.”