THE next day Bandhu started alone for the place at which he was to join the band of pilgrims. He took nothing with him but a small brass vessel for drinking, his hookah, some ready-cooked food, and his black bag of Ignorance tied round his neck. Since his last conversation with Prem Chand a little curiosity as to the contents of the bag, the mirror, and the bracelet, which by feeling he ascertained to be there, had arisen in the mind of Bandhu; but his brain was so much weakened by Superstition that he had not the courage to take his own property out of the covering of Ignorance in which Farebwala had wrapped it. "Who knows what might happen if I did but glance into the mirror?" thought Bandhu. "And I should be afraid to put on the bracelet lest its pinching should destroy all my ease. It is pleasanter sometimes not to know when danger is near." There are in the world many Superstition-drugged men and women, who are as cowardly and foolish as Bandhu. They are afraid of self-knowledge; they dread that opening of their blind eyes which will bring humility and wisdom. Bandhu, when the time for mid-day rest had come, had reached a small mango-tope (grove) under the shade of which he found two men. From their appearance, he guessed them to be Chhatris, though they were no more Chhatris than he was. The elder was still a vigorous man, though his hair was turning grey with age. An expression of great cunning marked his features. The other man was his son, and yet in the prime of life, but his face was bloated and his eyes were sunken with self-indulgence, so that he looked almost as old as his father. The name of the elder was Idolatry, that of his son was Vice. These two sat smoking their hookahs, and Bandhu, who was tired of being alone, very willingly joined them. The men received him with great politeness, and the three were presently chatting together as if they had been old friends. Bandhu, in reply to a question, informed the strangers whither he was going. "We are bound thither also," said the elderly man, "to do puja at the holy place, bathe, and make our offerings. Let us all travel together." "I desire nothing better," replied Bandhu, "it suits not my taste to travel alone." "Besides there might be danger," suggested the younger man. "In these lonely parts there is no saying whom one might meet." "Perhaps Dacoits or Thugs," * said the timorous Bandhu, and intuitively, he laid his hand on his bag. * Dacoits are a kind of highwaymen who rob in gangs. Thugs were a set of professional murderers, who strangled unsuspecting travellers, under the supposed sanction of one of their demon-like goddesses. The following description of these murderers is extracted from the work of Ishuree Dás, before quoted:—