Thousands of people every year make their way to the spot to worship this memento of their Master's presence on this earth. From Bangkok the pilgrims ascend the Menam Chow Phya in boats, until they reach the old ruined capital of Ayuthia, from which point, the rest of the journey, some fourteen or fifteen miles, is made by land. Some people trudge the whole way on foot; some ride in the picturesque buffalo carts, or in the cumbersome bullock waggons; while others travel by means of elephants. The howdah of the elephant is no gorgeously caparisoned seat, like those so often seen in Indian pictures, but is merely a plain wooden saddle, covered over with a light canopy of basket-work which shields the head from the heat of the sun, and the thorns of the long spiny creepers that hang from the branches overhead. The Siamese elephant does not kneel in order to allow the passenger to mount, but he lifts one of his front legs, and bends it at the knee so as to form a kind of step. A sharp iron spike, stuck in the end of a long rod or pole, is the weapon used by the mahout or elephant driver to guide the beast and to urge it to greater speed. It functions both as whip and reins. The road, in the height of the pilgrim season, is thronged throughout its whole length with crowds of people going and returning, and there are plenty of enterprising Chinese and Siamese at convenient intervals along the track, anxious to make a little honest profit by supplying the devotees with food. Rice is the chief article offered for sale, and is cooked in bamboo shoots, which here take the place of the ordinary iron pot. Sugar obtained from the palm tree, and wild honey in the comb, from the trees in the neighbouring forest, are also largely disposed of as palatable forms of light refreshment.