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MY PILGRIMAGES 
 TO AJANTA & BAGH 
 

 

 
 BUDDHA’S RETURN TO HIS WIFE AND SON, AFTER 
 HIS ENLIGHTENMENT. 
 
 CAVE 17. (See page 148) 
 In the Oriental Department of the British Museum 
 
MY PILGRIMAGES 
 BO 
 AJANTA & BAGH 
 
 By 
 SRI MUKUL CHANDRA DEY 
 
 With an Introduction by 
 LAURENCE BINYON 
 
 NEW YORK 
 GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 
 

 
 
 
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TO THE MEMORY OF 
 
 WILLIAM WINSTANLY PEARSON 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 My Frrst PILGRIMAGE TO AJANTA 
 
 A GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF THE CAVES 
 THe LIFE oF GAUTAMA BUDDHA 
 
 My Seconp Visit To AJANTA.. 
 
 I BecIn my WoRK IN THE CAVES 
 
 How THE CAVES WERE First STARTED 
 THE CavEs—continued 
 
 My SERVANT’S DEATH 
 
 I MovE INTO THE CAVES 
 ADVENTURES—PLEASANT AND OTHERWISE 
 Tue Finest PEriop oF INDIAN ART 
 My Last Days at AJANTA 
 
 My PILGRIMAGE To BAGH 
 
 PAGE 
 27 
 4d 
 56 
 86 
 95 
 
 107 
 113 
 124 
 135 
 156 
 168 
 187 
 199 
 
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 7 
 
 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Buddha’s Return after his Enlightenment Frontispiece 
 FACING PAGE 
 
 Ceiling of Shrine, Cave 1 : 
 General View of Ajanta Caves, hoes Ged 1 to 13 
 Descending a Ghat on the way to Ajanta 
 
 The Village and River Neri 
 
 Group of Flying Figures, Cave 17 
 
 King, Queen, and am ee and Gin’s S pea 
 Cave 17 
 
 First Glimpse of the Ajanta Cee showing Raves 
 16 to 26 
 
 ‘The Ajanta Gorge, Mowing aks 26 
 
 King Bimbisara, his Queen, and Attendants, at 
 within a palace pavilion, Cave 17 rs 
 
 Jataka Scene, with Horseman, Yogi, etc., Cave 17 
 A Girl with a Fly-flapper, Cave 17 
 
 A Hunter and Wild Geese 
 
 Begging Scene, Cave 17 ; : 
 Prince Gautama Bathing in his Palace, cave 1 
 Women Worshipping Buddha, Cave 1 
 
 The Toilet of a Queen, Cave 17 
 
 The Temptation of Buddha, Cave 1 
 
 Buddha Teaching, Cave 17 
 
 A King, Queen and Princess with eerea Rt tene 
 dants, Cave 10 4 hes ba £4, 
 
 Facade of Cave 9 
 
 Interior View of Cave 9, with Samet Stupa i in ie 
 middle ‘ ; : 
 
 Facade of Cave 4 
 
 11 
 
 26 
 at 
 36 
 36 
 37 
 
 54 
 
 107 
 
 107 
 
List of Illustrations 
 
 | PAGE 
 Baranda of Cave 7 a ae ae Sis »s. 418 
 Facade of Cave 11 ne i i i én ES 
 Baranda of Cave 11 = ay = = Sc OD 
 The Dying Princess, Cave 16... : 140 
 The King of Benares eo ae the Coie Coane) 
 
 Cave 17. aN : 141 
 Ceiling of Bhrands, Cave lT. 2k. : .. 144 
 Group of Musicians passing through the air, Cave 17 145 
 The Bodhisatva as a Six-tusked Elephant, Cavel7 .. 146 
 The Capture of the Elephants, Cave 17 my 146 
 The Landing and Coronation of i Bijeya 3 in 
 
 Ceylon, Cave 17 ; 147 
 A Hunting Scene, Cave 17 = = : . 4s 
 Facade of Cave 19 Sa a zy <i ~» 240 
 An Alcove for Repose, Cave 19 = .. 150 
 Roof above Triforium, Cave 19 ee oF a eo 
 Triforium of Chaitya, Cave 19 Ne a .. 150 
 Lower part of Facade, Cave 19 PP Ke ee 
 The Right Side of the Nave, Cave 19 ne «kor 
 A Capital in the Baranda, Cave 24 3 , ee 
 A Naga-King, Queen, and Attendant, Cave 19 vin: SS 
 Interior of Cave 19 ss ie 2 Beye 
 Facade of the Lower Storey, Cae Ges .. 168 
 Interior of Cave 6 =e ~ AP * ne 
 Royal Love Scene, Cave 17 oa SS o; 3 ah 
 The Birth of Buddha, Cave 2 . 180 
 
 A King Punishing one of his Court Daneene Eas 2 180 
 A Lotus Lake with Hunters and Wild Geese, Cave 2 181 
 A Rich Lady Preparing to Visit Buddha, Cave2 .. 181 
 
 Facade of Cave 1 LG q a is oo 182 
 
 Ceiling of Baranda, Cave 2 — wi wth i CARR 
 
 Prince Gautama and his Wife, Yashodhara, with 
 Attendants, Cave 1 a ae bis mage 
 
 12 
 
List of Illustrations 
 
 Back View of Seated Girl, Cave 1 
 
 A Palace Scene, Cave 1 
 
 Ceiling Fresco, Cave 1 
 
 Facade of Cave 26 
 
 Door into the Right Aisle of Cave 26 
 Interior of Cave 26 
 
 Pillars on the left of Cave 26 . 
 
 Panel in Ceiling of Shrine, Ue 1 
 
 In Front of the Bagh Caves, by the river Baghmat 
 
 The Main Cave in the Bagh Hills 
 
 Peasant Women aes Meals to their Me in the 
 
 Fields ode 
 The Jungle-Village near Bagh: aie I niche ; 
 Entrance to Cave 2, Bagh 
 
 Cave 5, Bagh, showing how the whole of Heeansia fen 
 
 fallen in front of the entrance 
 
 The Rang-Mahal Cave 4, Bagh 
 
 Photograph of Fresco in the Rang-Mahal 
 
 A Group of Festival Dancers, Cave 4, Bagh 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS IN THE TEXT 
 
 ** In the Shade of the Bokul-tree ” af 
 The Six-tusked Elephant, Cave 10 a 
 Buddha Teaching, Cave 16 
 
 Map of Central India, showing Ajanta aoe Bagh 
 From a Wall Painting in Cave 10 
 
 Figures from the Oldest Painting in Cave 10 
 Head Drawing, Cave 10 .. 
 
 A Wall Painting in Cave 16 
 
 13 
 
 PAGE 
 184 
 
 184 
 185 
 192 
 193 
 194 
 195 
 198 
 199 
 199 
 
 222 
 222 
 228 
 
 223 
 236 
 236 
 237 
 
 56 
 58 
 aa 
 87 
 101 
 104 
 111 
 139 
 
List of Illustrations 
 
 PAGE 
 A Naga-King us ee a ocamay ©. 3! 
 Painting Over the Door of Caed Lhe “ .. 144 
 Plan of Cave 19 .. a BS Ae es .. 150 
 Plan of Cave2.. : Be és a va ee 
 A Figure from a Painting i inCave2 .. a ee a 
 The Messenger in Cave 2 i on a .. 180 
 Figures from a wall painting in Cave 1 oe .. 184 
 The Temptation of Buddha i : % Pas 
 Buddha’s Feet Resting on Lotus witwars ge .. 240 
 
 14 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 THE wall paintings of Ajanta have been made 
 the subject of elaborate and sumptuous works, 
 such as the two folio volumes published by 
 Mr. John Griffiths in 1896-7, and the portfolio 
 of reproductions of copies made by Lady Herring- 
 ham and her assistants, published, with essays 
 and descriptions by various hands, for the 
 India Society, in 1915. These publications are 
 in the hands of the scholars; but there is room 
 and need for a more popular book on the paint- 
 ings, for they should be known to all the world. 
 The present work, written by Mr. Mukul Dey, 
 a young Indian artist, who has himself made 
 copies from the paintings, will do something, 
 I hope, towards supplying that need. 
 
 It is somewhat presumptuous for one who 
 has himself never seen the paintings to write 
 about them. But as a matter of fact very few 
 indeed of the English in India have ever visited 
 the caves, and if there is any excuse for my 
 presumption, it is that I have been for a good 
 many years a student of the art of Asia, and 
 of the relations between the arts of the various 
 
 15 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 countries of that continent. In the art of 
 Asia, Ajanta is one of the central monuments. 
 It is indeed one of the great monuments in the 
 art of the world. 
 
 In China there once existed countless frescoes 
 on a grand scale, among them probably some 
 of the finest paintings ever made. But all, 
 save a few provincial specimens, have perished. 
 All the more therefore must we prize the splen- 
 did series still existing at Ajanta, together with 
 those, less known but equally wonderful, though 
 alas ! only a mere remnant, at Bagh. 
 
 Though known to me only through copies 
 and photographs, these frescoes—not techni- - 
 cally ‘* frescoes ’’ in the strict sense of the term, 
 but the word is convenient-—-seem more wonder- 
 ful, the more they are studied. My approach 
 to Indian art was made by way of the art of 
 the Further East, of China and Japan: and at 
 first, my mind being filled with the enchant- 
 ment of design, the mysterious felicity of spacing, 
 of which the great masters of these countries 
 had the secret, I was put out by the teeming 
 Indian exuberance of Ajanta. But Ajanta shows 
 many kinds of composition. Some of the paint- 
 ings rather repel me still, others delight me 
 more and more; and I can well imagine that 
 entering from the hot sunshine into those dim 
 
 16 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 temples and gradually adapting one’s eyes to 
 the gloom, one would receive an immense, an 
 overpowering impression of an art unmatched 
 for its fullness, its spontaneity, its glow and 
 diversity of living forms. Groups, lovely and 
 animated in their natural movement and repose, 
 single figures of strange majesty, of ineffable 
 compassion, attract the eye and haunt the 
 memory. One of the most unforgettable things 
 is the group of the woman and child making 
 offerings to the glorified Buddha, reproduced 
 in this book from Mr. Mukul Dey’s copy. The 
 eroup of the woman and child alone has been 
 ' illustrated both in Mr. Griffiths’s book and in 
 the India Society’s publication; but, strange to 
 say, with the great figure of the Buddha omitted, 
 so that one could only guess at the motive 
 inspiring the movement of the mother and her 
 boy. For this alone we should owe a debt of 
 gratitude to Mr. Dey. I remember no picture 
 anywhere more profoundly impressive in gran- 
 deur and in tenderness. Primitive these paint- 
 ings might be called, in the sense that they are 
 unsophisticated and fresh in their attack on 
 pictorial problems; but what astonishing ease, 
 what freedom from stiff, accepted formula these 
 artists had! They have the kind of surprising 
 instinctive mastery, unteased and unlaboured, 
 
 Cc 17 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 that a gifted child will show in rendering forms 
 and movements. 
 
 Mr. Rothenstein, who is in peculiar sympathy 
 with Indian art, has justly made the point that 
 in China and Japan, Buddhism was a foreign 
 religion, and Buddhist art came to these countries 
 with a hieratic tradition already fixed and 
 formulated. The Chinese and Japanese masters 
 had a secular art of their own, but in their 
 Buddhist works employed a special style; their 
 paintings of the Buddhas and _ Bodhisattvas 
 evoke mysterious and remote presences, of strange 
 beauty and spiritual aspect, as if appearing out 
 of the darkness above and apart from the troubled 
 world of men. The Ajanta paintings are all 
 Buddhist; are steeped in Buddhist faith and 
 fervour; but here the divine is not divorced 
 from the human, nor the spirit from the body. 
 To these Indian artists, the Buddha and his 
 disciples were Indians, men of their own race; 
 they did not need to make a translation from 
 foreign to familiar terms, as did the medieval 
 Kuropean painters in depicting the Gospel story, 
 in order to make the scenes intelligible. They 
 painted a world in which their minds were at 
 home. If you come to think of it, nearly all the 
 religious art with which we are familiar is not 
 in this case; it deals with far-off events, cir- 
 
 18 
 
 ES  — 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 eumstanced in surroundings neither known nor 
 understood save through books. The paintings 
 of Ajanta have frequently for subject the life 
 of the Buddha in previous incarnations,—in 
 the guise of elephant, deer or wild goose. Hence 
 we see pictured the actual scenes that were 
 before the painters’ eyes; the courts of princes, 
 the throngs of servants, the musicians, the 
 huntsmen, the dancing girls. The background 
 of leafy nature is there; the animals and birds 
 have been seen and studied with as much interest 
 as the human forms. In the paintings of Bagh 
 —or in what little remains of them—the motives 
 seem still more “ worldly”? and gay. There is 
 a circle of girl musicians in one of the Bagh 
 caves, which is quite astounding in its freshness 
 of ease and power; it is (to judge from the 
 drawing reproduced here, facing page 237) like a 
 very modern painting, yet with something that 
 our modern painting lacks, 
 
 These Indian pictures were all of religious 
 inspiration. Probably to the artists the religious 
 import seemed everything; their conscious en- 
 deavour was concentrated upon that. Design, 
 colour, composition, all the purely artistic ele- 
 ments of their work, were left to the more 
 intuitive activities of the mind. From this, I 
 think, comes the happiness of their art; it is 
 
 6 
 
 19 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 not self-conscious; it solves difficult problems 
 not by scientifically working out a theory but 
 simply—ambulando. Our most modern art 
 tortures itself in its austere quest of a purely 
 eesthetic aim. But it is a perplexing paradox of 
 human nature that to choose a certain aim and 
 
 
 
 consciously pursue it rarely ends in perfect 
 accomplishment of that aim; if the aim is 
 reached it is at the cost of impoverishment. 
 
 If one were asked to put into one word the 
 secret of these paintings,—-the secret of their 
 continuing power to impress and charm us— 
 one might well answer life ; for they affect us in 
 the same way that the living movements of 
 men and women, children, and animals affect 
 us ;. with a deep content and unconscious sym- 
 pathy. And it is not merely a sort of extract 
 from hfe that they yield—a mood of pleasure, 
 a mood of sadness or bitterness, a mood of 
 devotion or a mood of frivolity,—it is just life 
 itself, all life, with its joyous impulses of body 
 and spirit, the forward stride of adventure, 
 the haltings of the mind and turns upon itself, 
 its abandonment to sorrow, its renunciations, 
 its victories. The fruit of Buddhist doctrine, 
 it seems, is not negation but an experience of 
 what Professor Anesaki, in his interpretation 
 of Buddhist art, calls ‘‘ The Communion of 
 
 20 
 
 EE ee 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 Life,’ which is the escaping from the prison 
 and pain of self. 
 
 The cave-temples of Ajanta, as the reader will 
 realize from Mr. Mukul Dey’s vivid account of 
 his pilgrimage thither, are not easy of access, 
 and present all sorts of discomforts and even 
 dangers—from tigers and the stings of wild 
 bees—as a sort of trial and initiation. I am 
 glad that even millionaires cannot charm away 
 these obstacles; they too must submit to this 
 test of the reality of their desire to see these 
 famous works. Perhaps it were well that other 
 ereat works of art were guarded in some such 
 manner from the impertinent patronage of the 
 profane. 
 
 Mr. Dey went to Ajanta and Bagh in the 
 spirit of a pilgrim. He is one of those Indians 
 who seek to revive the art of India in the Indian 
 spirit. And it is to Ajanta that the modern 
 Indian artist rightly turns, or should turn, 
 for there is nothing really antiquated in those 
 frescoes, they still radiate life; they show what 
 the Indian genius could achieve on a grand 
 scale in the past, and may achieve again. 
 Indians in general take far too little interest 
 in their own art, whether ancient or contem- 
 porary. They should realise that through 
 painting and sculpture, in which mankind in- 
 
 21 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 stinctively embodies its deepest thoughts and 
 ideals, a race speaks to the world in a language 
 needing no translation. All over the world 
 is a newly-stirred curiosity and interest in the 
 art of India. We look to Indians to honour 
 their art and their artists; to cherish the great 
 monuments of the past and to foster the gifts 
 of the living; for art, if it is to enjoy the fulness 
 and glory of expression, needs the co-opera- 
 tion of the whole people out of which it comes. 
 
 LAURENCE BINYON. 
 
 22 
 
mrt HiOR’'S’ PREFACE 
 
 How can I sufficiently express my gratitude 
 to the friends who helped me write this book ? 
 
 Within the sacred rock-temples of Ajanta 
 and Bagh abide in darkness and neglect gods 
 and goddesses; Buddhas and monks; kings 
 and queens; courtiers and hunters; musicians 
 and dancing girls; animals and flowers. 
 
 Two thousand years ago they were carved 
 in the rock or painted on the wall. Every 
 day as dusk approaches, the rays of the dying 
 sun penetrate for a brief while the caverns. 
 The. figures in the carvings and the frescoes 
 flush into a semblance of life, the mighty sun,— 
 the source of all vitality—reminds them that 
 he at least has not forgotten them. 
 
 Kven so to me, working and ransacking 
 memories in this cold and foggy climate of 
 England, in a shelter by a hot fire-side, hard 
 put to it sometimes to keep body and soul alive, 
 the kindness of my friends has come like the 
 sovereign touch of the sun to the darkness at 
 Ajanta, and has warmed my heart and revived 
 many scenes and incidents. 
 
 23 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 My grateful thanks are due to Mr. Kallianjee 
 Curumsey, of Bombay, who owns the copies 
 of the wall-paintings which I made in the caves 
 and has taken immense trouble in sending 
 them to England in order that they might be 
 reproduced for this book. 
 
 My heartfelt acknowledgments are also owing 
 to Messrs. Johnston & Hoffmann, of Calcutta ; 
 to Dr. F. W. Thomas, the librarian of the Indian 
 Office, for his valuable assistance; to Mr. F. J. 
 Richter, the Hon. Secretary of The India 
 Society; to all who gave me permission to 
 make use of the photographs of the caves and 
 frescoes and particularly some of Lady Herring- 
 ham’s copies of works at the Ajanta caves. 
 
 I am also indebted to the book of James 
 Fergusson and Dr. Burgess on the Cave 
 Temples of India, from which I have taken some 
 valuable information. 
 
 To friends who not only encouraged me in 
 various ways in my effort but patiently en- 
 deavoured to put my wild English into some sort 
 of shape, my sincerest thanks are due: Mr. 
 Laurence Binyon, Miss Eve Maggs, Mr. & Mrs. 
 Louis F. Fergusson, Professor Selwyn Image, 
 Mr. Thomas Sturge Moore, the Misses Dorothy 
 Larcher, Elsie Maggs, Ida A. R. Wylie, Rachel 
 Barrett, Mr. Eddie Whaley, Mr. Henry Clifford 
 
 24 
 
 Mi its n 
 
 > te, * 
 
My Palgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 Mages, Mr. Muirhead Bone, Mr. Lionel G. 
 Pearson, Mr. & Mrs. Eliot Druce, Mr. & Mrs. 
 A. R. Smith, and my great brother artists, 
 Srijukta Nanda lal Basu and Surendra Nath Kar. 
 
 On many occasions during this literary voyage 
 the seas have been rough, though at other 
 times I sailed with winds that favoured my 
 course. Almost within sight of the coast to- 
 wards which my hopes were directed my vessel 
 ran aground in shallow waters. On an early 
 autumn morning while I despaired two 
 pilots came aboard and steered my little ship 
 to safety, and soon I perceived the faint black 
 line of the shore through the mist. To these 
 pilots, Miss Elsie M, C. Druce and Mr. W. E. 
 ** Pussyfoot ” Johnson, my heart overflows with 
 eratitude, for without them I could never have 
 reached the harbour. 
 
 Mecklenburgh Square, 
 London, W.C. 
 
 25 
 
? 
 
 
 

 
 NG OF SHRIN 
 
 CEILI 
 
 CAVE I. 
 

 
 ‘£1 OL I SHAVD DNIMOHS 
 ‘SHAVO VINV[V AO MIA TYYANAD 
 
 
 
MY PILGRIMAGES TO 
 AJANTA AND BAGH 
 
 CHAPTER ONE 
 MY FIRST PILGRIMAGE TO AJANTA 
 
 In Western India, in the heart of the lonely 
 Bindha Hills, in the State of Hyderabad, near 
 the village of Ajanta, there exists a shrine of 
 Religion and Art, which from time immemorial 
 has attracted pilgrims and students, in spite of 
 its remoteness. This shrine consists of the 
 Ajanta caves and the wealth of ancient art and 
 - architecture in which they abound. 
 
 As a young boy, Art fascinated me, and I 
 was ever hearing about these famous caves and 
 their marvellous frescoes. Even then I deter- 
 mined that one day I would visit them myself, 
 and begin, what I hoped would be the study 
 of the art-work of all nationalities, by the study 
 of the ancient Buddhist arts of India. On 
 leaving school I thought many a time of trying 
 to journey to Ajanta; but when I expressed 
 this desire to my friends I met with little en- 
 eouragement. They laughed at the project and 
 
 27 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 warned me of all the perils from robbers and 
 thieves which I should encounter by the way 
 in the jungle. They threatened me with tigers 
 and snakes, with cholera and plague—nay, even 
 with starvation, as there would be great diffi- 
 culty in procuring food in a dry desert-like land 
 amongst the poverty-stricken Mahomedan 
 villagers. 
 
 I was young and poor, and I had no money 
 whatever with which to carry out my ideas for 
 this long journey of over a thousand miles 
 from my home in Bengal. But I did not give 
 up my ambition; I kept it before me steadily 
 for many years. Being somewhat an artist, I 
 was able to earn a little money, and I set about 
 sketching portraits for a very few rupees each, 
 till by the end of the year 1917 I had saved about 
 two hundred and fifty rupees. I then set out 
 for the caves, my luggage consisting of an 
 attaché case with a few drawing materials and 
 toilet necessaries, and a blanket under my 
 arm. Third-class travel in India is cheap. <A 
 third-class ticket from Howrah station, Cal- 
 cutta, to Jalgaon station by the Bombay mail 
 on the Bengal-Nagpur Railway, a distance of 
 about a thousand miles, cost me just over a 
 pound (£1). 
 
 From Howrah station the train went through 
 
 28 
 
 
 
My First Pilgrumage to Ajanta 
 
 typically Bengali villages of straw-thatched 
 houses, with banana trees growing amongst 
 the thick bushes, and acres of bamboo and 
 bettle-nut groves. Tiny ancient ponds, covered 
 with thick green slime, in which the ducks were 
 busily seeking their food were on every hand. 
 Steps of old brick led down to the water. All 
 along the line children playing in the roads 
 stopped to gaze at our train, and women were 
 busy at their household work. On we sped 
 through shadowy green villages with cocoanut 
 and mango groves, and the bright red sun was 
 setting as we entered the flat ricefield plains, 
 dotted here and there with a few dark trees 
 sharply silhouetted against the flaming sky. 
 I sat at my window, gazing out and enjoying 
 the scenery through which I was passing. 
 
 I was travelling in the European third-class 
 compartment. There is almost always a Euro- 
 pean compartment on the Indian trains, but to 
 travel in it a man, no matter what his race, 
 need only wear European dress. I occupied a 
 whole bunk for my night’s sleep in great com- 
 fort. 
 
 There was one other man in my compart- 
 ment; what his nationality was I could not 
 guess, but he told me he was a dealer in Oriental 
 and Egyptian antiques, had a shop in Calcutta, 
 
 29 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 and was going on a short visit on business to 
 Bombay. We soon became friends, and he 
 showed me a few objects of virtu he had with 
 him in his trunk, especially some Persian hand- 
 bags, which were richly embroidered in gold, 
 red and green. Amongst his treasures I found 
 an old Egyptian seal of red stone dating from 
 five to seven centuries B.c. He was delighted 
 to sell this to me for two rupees, and it was 
 constantly with me, until recently in London 
 I thought I would have it mounted as a ring, 
 but, alas, the jeweller to whom [I took it broke 
 the stone. 
 
 Next morning, on our arrival at Nagpur, an 
 altogether strange sight met my eyes. The 
 platform and the approach to the station were 
 swarming with orange sellers, who had baskets 
 heaped up with oranges on their heads, shoul- 
 ders, and in their hands, loudly shouting their 
 wares, Everyone buys oranges in Nagpur as 
 a duty, it is so famous for them, and they are a 
 bargain. For a rupee (about 1s. 4d.) one can 
 get a score of large ones. It was really 
 beautiful to see this lovely fruit in such pro- 
 fusion, and I hastened to buy some for myself. 
 
 The mail train does not loiter on the way, 
 but here it stopped for half-an-hour. Though 
 I was travelling in the European compart- 
 
 30 
 
 
 
My First Pilgrimage to Ajanta 
 
 ment in European dress, I carried with me an 
 Indian cap, which I hardly ever wore except in 
 the cities. I was careful not to make use of 
 it in the train, for whenever we stopped at a 
 station the other Eurasians and Anglo-Indian 
 passengers, of whom there were four or five, 
 put on their solar topees to guard the door 
 from any native intruder. 
 
 But now at the last moment a dark, middle- 
 aged Marathi gentleman with his wife, followed 
 by a coolie with bundles of luggage on his head, 
 hurriedly entered our compartment. Two of 
 my travelling companions tried to prevent their 
 entry; but the newcomer was very strong 
 and energetic, and, by dint of a certain amount 
 of force, successfully stormed the stronghold 
 and occupied a seat, adjuring his wife in the 
 Marathi language not to budge an inch what- 
 ever happened. I knew what he meant, but kept 
 quiet, and watched for the march of events. 
 Then two of the Anglo-Indians left the train and 
 reported matters to the stationmaster and the 
 guard. These officials duly appeared; the 
 guard a European, the stationmaster an Indian. 
 They invited the newcomers to vacate the 
 carriage, promising to find them seats in another 
 part of the train. But the husband was 
 adamant: “I’m not going to move from my 
 
 31 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 seat. You can do what you like. I know the 
 rule all right, and I know a case like this hap- 
 pened before, and it went up to the High Court 
 at Bombay. So I know what I am doing 
 because I am a pleader!’’ By that time a small 
 crowd had gathered, and a policeman arrived on 
 the spot. I was enjoying the fun, and watched 
 with excitement to see who would win. But 
 time was up, the train could not wait any longer, 
 and nothing could be done. The guard whistled 
 and waved his green flag, the train started, the 
 stationmaster quietly grumbled to himself, and 
 the audience on the platform gave us a rousing 
 cheer. The intruders were left victoriously in 
 possession, looking immensely pleased with 
 themselves. Theirs was not a long _ jour- 
 ney, however, and by nightfall they had reached 
 their destination. 
 
 It was a cold, wintry month, and especially 
 so in that part of India. As it grew very bitter 
 during the night, I took my rug out of the 
 parcel and wrapped myself in it. The train 
 ultimately arrived at Jalgaon, the nearest rail- 
 way station for the caves, at half-past two 
 on a pitch dark morning. The journey from 
 Calcutta had been nine hundred and sixty 
 two miles. As I had not much luggage with 
 me, I enquired of one of the station porters 
 
 32 
 
 
 
 
 
My First Pilgrimage to Ajanta 
 
 whether I could get a tanga to start off for 
 the Ajanta caves at once. 
 
 The people of this part are Marathas, and 
 they only speak that language. Besides Ben- 
 gali I could speak a little Hindustani, and 
 somehow I made my porter understand my 
 wish; but he asked me to wait for the morning 
 light, assuring me that I should get a con- 
 veyance in time. However, I was impatient 
 and went to the stationmaster to explain my 
 intention. He confirmed what the porter had 
 told me, adding that if the tourists and visitors 
 intending to visit these caves would inform 
 him or the mamlatdar (village headman, locally 
 called “patel’’) beforehand, proper tangas 
 could be engaged. Some of the rich tourists 
 bring their own motor cars with them and do 
 the journey to the caves in an hour or two; 
 but that being impossible for me, I had to 
 wait patiently until morning broke. 
 
 My old porter pointed out to me a group 
 of men chatting round a fire outside the station, 
 as they waited for daybreak; these were the 
 tanga men. One of them agreed to take me 
 for twenty-six rupees, which was more than 
 I had paid to come up to Jalgaon from Calcutta, 
 and in the early dawn we started off for the 
 caves. 
 
 D 33 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 This being my first tour in Western India, 
 I noticed many differences in the scenery, as 
 the eastern sky hghtened from minute to minute. 
 The villagers were not yet awake, but gradually 
 a few people appeared here and there on the 
 road, crossing from one side to the other, washing 
 themselves, or going to work. They wore 
 coloured turbans, especially red, like yards of 
 thick rope wound round their heads. 
 
 The houses in the villages were also quite 
 different from those in Bengal. They were 
 squat constructions, built of stone, brick and 
 mud, with angular roofs decorated with black 
 and red tiles; while the Bengal huts have 
 thatched roofs, which hunch like a frightened 
 eat’s back, and the plain mud walls look much 
 nicer among the masses of green vegetation. 
 On my left were some Hindu temples (derived 
 from the type of Bodh Gaya) with beautiful 
 round carvings on the top. It was a cold but 
 very refreshing morning, and I wrapped myself 
 up in my rug. 
 
 As we were going slowly through the village 
 I saw a woman carrying milk on her head, and 
 pouring it out into pots at the doors of some 
 of the houses along the road. I enquired of 
 my tanga man whether I could get a glass of 
 milk to drink. He replied, “Oh yes, if you 
 
 34 
 
My Furst Pilgrimage to Ajanta 
 
 wish.” He ealled the milk-seller, who came, 
 saying, “ But how will you drink?” I brought 
 out my folding glass, at which she seemed very 
 surprised and smiled. She was a_ beautiful 
 young woman, wearing long, delicate ear-rings, 
 a rich red choli on which tiny pieces of mirror 
 sparkled in the sunshine, and a skirt of in- 
 numerable folds. She was very lovely indeed, 
 and reminded me of our old legend of Radha 
 of Brindaban and the Gopi girls. After finish- 
 ing my milk, I searched for my camera, in- 
 tending to take a snapshot of her, but she dis- 
 appeared, saying she had much to do before 
 the other people woke up, and after that she 
 had to go with the rest to work in the fields. 
 
 By this time we had reached the end of the 
 village, and my tangaman suddenly stopped 
 the cart and alighted. But he soon came back, 
 ‘bearing a load of straw and corn for his horse 
 and some food for himself, not having known 
 beforehand that he would have to make such 
 a long journey that day. He said to me: 
 “You also will get something to eat later on 
 in some village on the way.”’ 
 
 The sun had risen and was shining radiantly 
 as we started up the lonely road at the rate 
 of three or four miles an hour. This, in an 
 age of swift motors, must appear rather slow 
 
 30 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 progress, but those sturdy little horses will 
 cover as much as forty miles in a day at this 
 leisurely pace. The road was quite good, 
 broad, and bordered on either side with numerous 
 nim, banyan, ashath and babla trees. 
 
 The tanga is a funny kind of cart drawn 
 by small ponies. The passenger has to sit 
 behind the driver in a sort of box, which pro- 
 tects him from falling out as the tanga jolts 
 along or takes sharp corners over the hills and 
 downs. It is two-wheeled, lke the bullock 
 cart; the wheels have iron bands, and there 
 are no springs. As it runs it makes a terrible 
 noise; one can neither speak nor hear, and 
 soon a gripping pain spreads over the body. 
 In this way we traversed the villages and ghats 
 (as roads up a steep incline are called in the 
 Marathi dialect). 
 
 By about ten in the morning we arrived at a 
 village called Neri, which stands on a beautiful 
 little river of the same name. Here the women 
 were cleaning their brass and copper jars before 
 filling them with water. We crossed the river 
 at the little ford, and arrived at the gateway 
 in the ancient wall which surrounds the village. 
 Houses are built on this wall—of old Hindu 
 architectural design with beautiful carved doors 
 and balconies; and there are numbers of Hindu 
 
 36 
 

 
 
 
 THE VILLAGE AND RIVER NERI. 
 
 
 
 
 
 DESCENDING A GHAT ON THE WAY TO AJANTA. 
 
aC Decl Va) 
 ‘SHMNDIA ONIATA JO SdNOUD ‘Kyavo0g vipuy ayy fo worssuusagd Aq 
 
 
 
My First Pilgrimage to Ajanta 
 
 temples. While crossing the river I heard that 
 there was a bazaar where I could buy some 
 food; but when we arrived in the village I 
 observed that almost all the doors were shut, 
 wild dogs were roaming about, and the whole 
 place was deserted. There had been a plague 
 scare, and all the inhabitants had fled. It 
 was a good thing I had bought my glass of 
 milk from the girl at Jalgaon. 
 
 While passing through this deserted village 
 I noticed beautiful carvings and decorative 
 designs on the wooden doors, and by the steps 
 leading to the temples and houses, as well as 
 perforated and carved windows on the _ bal- 
 conies. It was sad to see this charming village 
 with all the houses locked up, and wearing such 
 an air of unusual desolation, in spite of the 
 elorious sunshine. 
 
 Leaving the village, as soon as we found 
 ourselves in the open country, to my amaze- 
 ment, we came upon hundreds of tiny huts 
 clumsily made of palmyra leaves, all huddled 
 together about a couple of hundred yards away. 
 These contained the inhabitants, who had fled 
 with all their children and livestock. 
 
 After we left Neri, the farther we went the 
 barer became the land. There was hardly a 
 stick of vegetation visible, and the whole ground 
 
 37 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 was of a rich golden-brown tint. The road 
 here is very lonely and but occasionally do 
 you meet a few people, or some squeaking 
 bullock carts laden with cotton, hay or wood, 
 creeping slowly along. In the distance could be 
 seen some straggling villages consisting for the 
 most part of but a few houses each. These 
 houses bear a curious resemblance to solid 
 blocks of clay, the roof being flat and low, like a 
 lid. ; | 
 
 This road to the south is one of the ancient 
 highways of the world, and in my imagination 
 I could see the countless hordes of Aryans, and 
 armed Mahomedan invaders, who passed this 
 way to the conquest of Southern India. Most 
 stirring of all to me, however, was the thought 
 of the great stream of Buddhist pilgrims, not only 
 from India but from far off China, to whom this 
 road had been the sacred way to the Ajanta 
 caves. It thrilled me to realize that I too formed 
 part of this unending procession, and to believe 
 that unending processions would still follow me. 
 All along the road we were continually starting 
 up herds of black buck and deer, which fled on 
 our approach, while wild doves rose in pairs. 
 
 At last we saw on the horizon the long ranges 
 of the Bindha Hills of the Dekkan, and my 
 tangaman said: ‘“ The lenas (lena means cave) 
 
 38 
 
My First Pilgrimage to Ajanta 
 
 are there in those hills.’ Through this district 
 we crossed and re-crossed a river called the 
 Baghora, which has its source in the Ajanta 
 caves. ‘The small village of Fardapur was not 
 very far: it is the first village of the Nizam’s 
 State of Hyderabad. At last, just before sun- 
 set, we arrived at Fardapur, and beyond this 
 village could be seen on our right the little 
 dak-bungalow, where my tangaman wanted to 
 take me, but I insisted that he should take me 
 first to the caves. He told me that he could 
 not do this, as the road would shortly become 
 very bad. 
 
 Soon we came to a point where the road 
 descends to the river, dotted with boulders and 
 impossible for the tanga to cross. So I settled 
 with the driver and proceeded on foot to the 
 caves. On my way I came across a small white 
 tent occupied by some official Mussulmans. One 
 of them told me he was the curator of the caves, 
 and said it was too late an hour to go to them, 
 but I turned a deaf ear to his protests and con- 
 tinued on my way. All along I made my 
 way over the jungle road, now leaping from 
 boulder to boulder, now threading my way 
 cautiously through the tangled undergrowth of 
 dense vegetation. Some of these boulders are 
 marked with a bright vermilion splash or a 
 
 39 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 roughly drawn figure, which are objects of devo- 
 tion to the neighbouring Hindu hill tribes. 
 Amongst the black boulders grew some mowah 
 trees, which were the only species I could recog- 
 nise. Evening was drawing in, all was silent, save 
 for the rustling of the little night birds and animals 
 who wake up at that hour for their nocturnal 
 wanderings. Suddenly I heard distinctly the 
 sound of marching footsteps which seemed to 
 be approaching me. From afar I saw a band 
 of people, who proved to be Japanese, marching 
 like soldiers one behind the other, with tight 
 bandages on their legs, wearing a peculiar white 
 dress and crowned with white solar topees. 
 Amongst them was my friend Mr. Kampo Arai, 
 a well-known Japanese artist, whom I had 
 previously met in Japan. He was very much 
 astonished to see me alone, and wondered how 
 I got there! He introduced me to one of his 
 friends, Mr. Sawamura (who is now professor 
 at Kyoto Imperial University in Japan), and 
 asked me whether I would join them as it was 
 getting so late, but I said, ‘‘ No; I would like 
 to see the caves first. I have travelled all 
 this way and must see the caves before I do 
 anything else,’ and I asked him for a few direc- 
 tions: how far it was, which was the best road 
 to pursue and so forth. He said, “ All right, 
 
 4.0 
 
“AayoAvT AyJoAo” SStPy Aq Séu1gvA, UOG4VI WOs 
 ‘LI HAV) ‘£1 HAVO 
 
 idVaH Smal ‘dNOUD AVOOAA GNV NAANO “ONIM 
 
 ewe e st | 
 = aS 
 
 * 
 td 
 e 9 
 
 
 
‘QZ OL OI SHAVD DNIMOHS 
 ‘SHAVO VINV[V AHL AO ASHWITD LSU 
 
 
 
 
My First Pilgrimage to Ajanta 
 
 I had better come along with you,” for being 
 an artist himself, he understood my anxiety. 
 After all, the caves were not very far, and crossing 
 the same river Baghora twice again, Mr. Arai 
 took me through a short cut and said, ‘“ You 
 will soon see them now.” 
 
 It is impossible for me to make my reader 
 realize my feelings when I first saw the site of 
 the caves. I was spell-bound. The natural 
 splendour of the scene, its utter seclusion, the 
 amphitheatre of hills enclosing the glen with 
 a rugged rampart, shaped like a crescent moon, 
 the little murmuring stream which flowed so 
 gently through a landscape of such wild gran- 
 deur—all affected me deeply. As I looked 
 more closely I perceived that out of the stone, 
 which was of a glorious tinge of bluish mauve, 
 had been hewn richly carved arches and columns, 
 and that these formed the entrance to a series 
 of cave-temples surpassing all that I had 
 imagined. My companion and I remained for 
 long in silent ecstasy. I felt completely satisfied. 
 Just this one vision repaid the trouble of my 
 journey a thousandfold. 
 
 All the way back to the bungalow, I talked 
 to him of the magnificence of the things J had 
 seen. Meanwhile I could hear the monkeys 
 chattering, and saw them leaping and playing 
 
 41 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 together high up on the side of the hills. My 
 friend agreed with me, and said that it was 
 the greatest and most wonderful thing he had 
 ever seen in his life, and he thought himself 
 lucky to be able to remain there for some time, 
 copying the frescoes. Then later on he said 
 to me: “‘ Though we have only one little room 
 for ourselves we will manage to put you up 
 and you will have your meals with us.” I was 
 lucky to get this splendid invitation, which I 
 at once accepted. So as soon as we arrived at 
 the bungalow, my friend introduced me again 
 in proper Japanese manner to his friend, Prof. 
 Sentaro Sawamura, the leader of the party, and 
 to all the other artists who came from Japan to 
 copy the frescoes. 
 
 There were five or six of them sleeping in one 
 room, and seeing the difficulty of an additional 
 inmate, I said, “I don’t mind sleeping on 
 the floor, or in any hole or corner.”” So I tucked 
 myself away in a little lean-to by the side of 
 the bathroom (which was Prof. Sawamura’s 
 photographic dark room), in a cot (char-paya) 
 which they had managed to borrow from the 
 servants, and Araisan gave me one of his blan- 
 kets, to which I added my own, and my attaché 
 case served me as a pillow. Thus my bed was 
 made. There were only two rooms in this 
 
 42 
 
My First Pilgrimage to Ajanta 
 
 small bungalow, and the second one was occu- 
 pied by two other Japanese artists of quite a 
 different establishment, who had also come 
 at that time, on their own account, to copy some 
 of the frescoes. It seemed to me that these 
 two parties regarded one another with con- 
 siderable indifference. Prof. Sawamura could 
 speak a little English, but none of the others 
 could except Araisan, who knew just a few 
 words. However, by dumb show and pointing 
 we succeeded in making ourselves understood. 
 While I was washing, before joining the 
 party at supper, the awful smell of their soup 
 and food made me quite ill; the fare, indeed, 
 was really the least palatable I had ever tasted, 
 and reminded me of my saddest days in Japan, 
 while travelling in that country with Dr. Tagore. 
 But after a whole day’s journey in the hot 
 sun, in a jolting tanga without any meal, I was 
 naturally hungry and thirsty, and I rejoiced 
 in having my rice with tea-water, and was 
 very grateful for what they did for me. We 
 soon hastened to bed, and thanking them all, 
 I said Good-night. Prof. Sawamura said: “‘ We 
 hope to see you all right to-morrow morning.” 
 And Araisan asked me to close my window 
 tight, as the tigers and panthers were wont 
 to wander round the bungalow during the night. 
 
 43 
 
CHAPTER TWO 
 A GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF THE CAVES 
 
 EARLY next morning after a hurried breakfast 
 we all set out for the caves, the sun shining 
 gloriously ; the day, however, being still cool. 
 Talking with my Japanese friends as we trudged 
 along, I learnt that the caves were between 
 four and five miles south-west of the bungalow 
 which we were at present occupying. The 
 Iardapur village is the first border village of 
 the Nizam’s dominions; Ajanta is an old village 
 lying north-west of Aurangabad, situated on 
 top of the Bindha hills, which divide the pro- 
 vince of Khandesh from the Dekkan. The 
 population consists chiefly of Mussulmans and 
 Hindus, who during many generations have 
 lived amicably side by side. The village of 
 Ajanta, being larger and more important than 
 Fardapur, has given its name to the caves, and 
 is now becoming famous throughout the whole 
 world for its wealth of art treasures. 
 
 It is interesting to know how the caves, 
 having lain hidden for about a thousand years, 
 were re-discovered only a century ago, and re- 
 vealed to the world generally. 
 
 4h 
 
A General Description of the Caves 
 
 In the year 1819 a British officer, retired 
 from the Madras Army, was out alone in the 
 jungle close to the Ajanta village, hunting 
 round for tigers. Unsuccessful, he wound his 
 way on and on through the wild stony tracks. 
 Having pursued for some time his haphazardous 
 course, and imagining himself far enough from 
 all human beings, he was surprised to hear but 
 a little way off a boy’s shrill voice. Hastening 
 his steps, the captain soon came up to a young 
 herdsman talking to his herd of half-wild buffa- 
 loes in the middle of the jungle. 
 
 The boy, seeing a sahib, and consequently 
 thinking to earn a little tip if he should show 
 him the actual home of the tigers, led him a 
 little way off from where he was standing and, 
 pointing above the trees, said: “‘ Look, sahib.” 
 Following eagerly with his eyes the boy’s ex- 
 tended arm, he saw through the thick green 
 foliage a little golden-red colour peering between 
 a few mauve carved pillars or columns. 
 
 The captain, intensely excited, feeling him- 
 self to be about to make an important archeo- 
 logical discovery, sent immediately to the 
 village for men to come with torches and drums, 
 with axes and spears, to hew down the tangled 
 clusters that throttled up the entrance to the 
 caves. Thus a clearing was made in the jungle, 
 
 45 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 and a passage forced into these long-forgotten 
 city temples, which had flourished from about 
 the third century B.c. to the seventh century 
 A.D. 
 
 We were following a rough and narrow track, 
 passing innumerable little valleys in which one 
 might have found many a spot most suitable and 
 convenient for pitching a tent amidst mag- 
 nificent scenes; most suitable, that is, if one 
 disregards the nightly visits of snakes and pan- 
 thers. Clambering over rough boulders and 
 jumping across streams, we made our way 
 towards the caves as hastily as the uncertain 
 route permitted. Having crossed the con- 
 stantly winding little river Baghora for about 
 the fourth or fifth time, we arrived at the foot 
 of the ancient stone staircase which leads to 
 the caves. 
 
 The Japanese artists always used the. ancient 
 ascent to the caves rather than the modern 
 short cut, which leads from the eastern side, 
 somewhat steeply to cave 1, the most recently 
 constructed of all the caves. 
 
 After ascending some hundred of these worn 
 and broken stairs we came to the cave marked 
 7, the numeral glaringly conspicuous in black 
 paint on a white square, just a soulless identifi- 
 cation mark, quite inappropriate to either the age 
 
 46 
 
A General Description of the Caves 
 
 or nature of the caves. About thirty years or so 
 ago the official surveyors had numbered the caves 
 concurrently from east to west, like houses or 
 shops in a street. 
 
 The artists now all scattered into different 
 caves; but I followed the leading artist, my 
 friend Araisan, who was copying a great piece 
 of fresco for his country, The Temptation of 
 Buddha, in cave 1. We passed caves 6, 5, and 
 so on till we came to 1, when suddenly he took 
 off his topi and stood reverently in front of the 
 intensely dark entrance. Instead of going 
 straight to the Buddha at the far end, he walked 
 slowly up the left aisle, gazing at the frescoes high 
 up on the walls; and, having come at last to the 
 altar, he bowed many times to the large cross- 
 legged Buddha, and afterwards took off his 
 puttees, and by undoing his sash let down his 
 long white robes, so that now he looked like an 
 artist-monk. 
 
 All this time we had been seeing one another 
 like ghosts in the subdued light, but suddenly 
 Araisan said: ‘‘ Now light,” and began to pump 
 air into a great big cylinder which was connected 
 with a hanging lamp on a tall three-legged stand. 
 He lit this lamp, and I joined in pumping for 
 half-an-hour or so, in order to get a bright flame. 
 So gradually the great Buddha became visible, 
 
 AT 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 and as the flame brightened I saw the fresco 
 Araisan was copying. 
 
 I was stunned but extremely happy when I 
 first saw the paintings, for I felt that they 
 had been done with the utmost care, and yet, I 
 thought hereafter I would be able to cover 
 similarly large pieces of walls by myself, in 
 the same way. I actually fell in love with 
 many; in fact with all of the paintings on the 
 walls, especially some of the beautiful paintings 
 of the most lovely women. 
 
 Over the fresco of the famous Buddha’s 
 Temptation that Araisan was copying hung four 
 or five pieces of thin Japanese paper, which later 
 on he would join together. For a little while 
 I watched him, then stole away, eager to see 
 the other wonders. 3 
 
 Wandering from cave to cave, I found myself 
 in an ancient world of Buddhist palaces, tem- 
 ples and halls. The walls, ceilings and columns 
 were covered. with wonderful paintings and 
 decorations. The idea of natural caves dis- 
 appeared from my mind altogether; and it 
 was beyond my comprehension to have imagined 
 their grandeur, unless I had seen them for 
 myself, 
 
 There are twenty-nine cave temples in all, 
 hewn out of solid pieces of living rock, which 
 
 43 
 
A General Description of the Caves 
 
 have now become the home of wild beasts 
 and bats. These marvellous temples and 
 monasteries date probably from a little before 
 the reign of the great Buddhist Kmperor of 
 India, Asoka (272-231 B.c.), to just before the 
 expulsion of Buddhism from India, about 600 
 A.D. to 700 A.D. 
 
 They were visited by generations of pious 
 travellers and pilgrims eager for knowledge, 
 who came not only from Persia, Greece and 
 Asia Minor, but from far-off China; travellers, 
 such as Heuen Tsang, Fa-Heen and others, 
 came there to study the way, to learn the life 
 and teaching of Gautama Buddha, as well 
 as to enrich the temples with their precious 
 cifts. 
 
 In these twenty-nine caves at Ajanta, are four 
 completed chaitya chapels, numbers 9, 10, 19 
 and 26; and one, 28, was begun but never 
 finished. ‘‘ Chaitya ’ means the buildings 
 used by Buddhist monks for united worship. 
 A dome-shaped Buddhist shrine, called “‘ stupa,”’ 
 containing relics, occupies the place of the 
 altar in all the four chaityas at Ajanta, and 
 it is the most sacred of all. 
 
 The remaining twenty-five are biharas. 
 ~ Bihara ” means a Buddhist monastery. Each 
 of these consists of a central hall with small 
 
 E — 49 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 cells opening into it and a great sanctuary on 
 its longest side, just opposite the main door 
 entrance, with pillared aisles, nave, baranda 
 and cells. This sanctuary contains a colossal 
 Buddha. Seven of the rock-cut temples at 
 Ajanta were never finished; they are numbered 
 3, 14, 23, 24, 27, 28 and 29. 
 
 About the time of Asoka, between the third 
 and second century B.c., the first two caves 
 were excavated, 10 and 9. These were wor- 
 shipping chapels. But living quarters were 
 needed for the priests, monks and_ students, 
 and so the caves 7, 8, 11, 12 and 13 were cut out 
 eradually afterwards, and this is the way the 
 monastery was first built up. 
 
 The scenery everywhere round about here 
 is most wild and beautiful. From the baranda 
 (veranda) of cave 17, you can look down upon the 
 river bed, which curves away to the waterfalls 
 at the extreme end of the right-hand corner 
 of the caves, and in the monsoon becomes a 
 mighty torrent. It runs from the head of the 
 valley above the caves and terminates abruptly 
 in a waterfall of seven leaps, the last may be of 
 from 70 to 80 feet. The place is known locally as 
 Sat-kund, or the seven pools, these receive the 
 several falls, the lowest is a small deep lake and 
 full of fish. 
 
 50 
 
9c aAV) SNIMOHS 
 "ADNOD VINVIV AHL 
 
 
 
KING BIMBISARA, HIS QUEEN, AND 
 ATTENDANTS SEATED WITHIN A 
 PALACE PAVILION. 
 
 CAVE 17. 
 
 
 
 JATAKA SCENE, WITH HORSEMAN, YOGI, ETC. 
 CAVE 17. 
 
 
 
 By permission of the India Society. 
 
A General Description of the Caves 
 
 In the evening I went back to the bungalow 
 with my Japanese friend for the night’s rest. 
 But for days I continued under the spell of this 
 magical scenery and magical art. 
 
 It is impossible for anyone who has not seen 
 them with his own eyes to realise how great 
 and solid the paintings in the caves are; how 
 wonderful in their simplicity and_ religious 
 fervour; yet almost all are suffering from 
 many kinds of damage, apart from the inevit- 
 able decay produced by some thousand years 
 of neglect. Numerous kinds of animals and 
 birds make their home in these caves; bats, 
 owls, swallows, wild bees, and even wild parrots 
 and pigeons, which continually drop their lime 
 over the walls on the paintings. Human beings, 
 civilised and uncivilised, such as Sadhus and 
 Sanyasis, have cooked their meals and made 
 their fires in the caves, till the smoke has 
 blackened their walls. Visitors have scratched 
 and scribbled their names, and European 
 visitors have cut away pieces of the frescoes or 
 tried to do so. An interesting fragment of 
 fresco, about a foot square, showing portions of 
 various figures, probably part of a Jataka scene 
 from cave 16, dating from about the fifth century 
 A.D., was removed and brought to England 
 by the late Captain Williams of Hampstead ; 
 
 ol 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 and, a few years ago was put up for auction 
 
 at Sotheby’s sale rooms in New Bond Street, 
 where it fetched £1,000. It is now in the Museum 
 of Fine Arts at Boston, U.S.A. It is sad to see 
 how the frescoes have been damaged; the disfigur- 
 ing marks of penknives are all too visible. From 
 time to time British official artists who were 
 engaged in copying the frescoes, varnished them 
 with the very cheapest kind of varnish, and as 
 a result the paintings have grown blacker day 
 by day almost to the point of a dead black and 
 ruination; for when the varnish dried up the 
 plaster on the walls cracked, and the outer 
 films of the paintings peeled off. Further, on 
 every inch of the wall-paintings divers kinds 
 of insects have made their habitation and bitten 
 the paint and plaster. 
 
 From about eight or nine o’clock in the morn- 
 ing until evening I found these Japanese artists 
 keenly absorbed in making the most faith- 
 ful records of the frescoes for their country, 
 and Prof. Sawamura busily engaged in tak- 
 
 ing photographs and plans. He also took 
 
 thousands of impressions of the carvings and 
 decorative designs on the columns and pillars, 
 on specially made thin paper, which was damped 
 and pressed down on the carved designs by a 
 soft dabber, and black ink dabbed on the sur- 
 
 52 
 
A General Description of the Caves 
 
 face of the paper. I helped him at this work 
 many times as a token of my appreciation of 
 his and his friends’ kind hospitality. Now I 
 hear from Prof. Sawamura, who is in London, 
 that all the copies of Ajanta paintings they made 
 have been destroyed in the last earthquake in 
 Japan except his own collection of carving- 
 impressions ; and also he told me that he is 
 contemplating another visit to the Ajanta caves 
 in a few years’ time, for a long stay. 
 
 The halls and monasteries and chapels were 
 made for the purpose of great Buddhist uni- 
 versities and monasteries where pilgrims and 
 scholars might study Art, Religion and Philo- 
 sophy; and they served as dwelling-places for 
 monks and guests, who came from far distant 
 lands, such as North-West Asia and China, to 
 study and worship there. The pictures and 
 sculptures adorning them are all connected with, 
 and illustrate Buddha’s life and previous in- 
 carnation from stories in Jataka tales. 
 
 These Japanese artists, who were Buddhists, 
 were so devoted in copying what they saw and 
 so engrossed in their task that I never heard 
 them murmur a word while they were at work, 
 and I was very sorry I was not able to start 
 working myself; but I had not yet obtained 
 permission from the Nizam’s Government to 
 
 338 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 copy the frescoes. After seeing these wonder- 
 ful paintings and noting how eagerly the Japanese 
 artists were making faithful copies for their 
 country, and how their Government and art 
 patrons had equipped them, I could not help 
 thinking what a great pity it was that the 
 British Government or wealthy Indians took 
 no interest whatever in educating their country- 
 men by getting these paintings copied for their 
 museums, art schools and colleges, and other 
 educational establishments in India. Un- 
 fortunately, these marvellous groups of caves, 
 being in the Mahomedan territory, were over- 
 looked until very recently. Probably in the 
 near future we shall have to go to England, 
 Japan, America or elsewhere to see our own 
 ancient art instead of being able, as one should 
 be, to study it at home in India; for so quickly 
 is it becoming ruined, that we shall lose it all 
 sooner or later; or should a great earthquake 
 happen, we should lose it quicker still. I made 
 up my mind, therefore, that I certainly must 
 copy some of these glorious things before they 
 were all gone. I soon realised, however, that 
 it was a big and very difficult task to fulfil, and, 
 as [had discovered, one in which no one was likely 
 to help me. So with this idea I made up my 
 mind to earn sufficient money to carry out my 
 
 54 
 

 
 A HUNTER AND WILD GEESE. 
 
 
 
 CAVE 17. 
 By permission of the India Society. 
 

 
 BEGGING SCENE. 
 CAVE 17. 
 By permission of the India Society. 
 
A General Description of the Caves 
 
 scheme, and to come back to the caves again for 
 a long stay in order to copy the frescoes myself. 
 
 With these ideas in my head I bade “ Sayo- 
 nara,” Good-bye, to my Japanese friends and left 
 the Ajanta caves and the Fardapur village. 
 
 Ss) 
 
CHAPTER THREE 
 THE LIFE OF GAUTAMA BUDDHA 
 
 For the next two years I travelled over the 
 greater part of India, studying ancient art 
 and monuments in the Buddhist caves and 
 temples, at the same time supporting myself 
 by making portrait sketches and selling my 
 other drawings. I visited Bodh-Gaya, where 
 Buddha received enlightenment beneath the old 
 bo-tree. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Pi 
 57 Cae 
 A 
 
 fe it] 
 
 A 
 heey esyguec 
 
 ri 
 j Walag hs =~ 
 “RRC: 
 7 3 SY Y *. 
 
 “IN THE SHADE OF THE BOKUL-TREE” 
 
 Gradually the whole history of his most 
 noble and wonderful life became again vividly 
 present to my mind; as when in my child- 
 hood I had sat in the shade of the bokul- 
 tree at the feet of my Gurudeba, Dr. Sir 
 Rabindranath Tagore, in Shantiniketan School, 
 
 56 
 
The Life of Gautama Buddha 
 
 and first heard the life story of the young prince 
 Sidhartha Gautama, who became the Buddha. 
 
 As the frescoes are incidents in the life of 
 Buddha, I give here an account of him, his 
 life and work. 
 
 In the northern part of India, at the foot of 
 the Himalaya mountains, on the borders of 
 Nepal, is a land of great beauty. The mighty 
 snow-clad peaks of the Himalayas towered over 
 the ancient capital of Kapilabastu, which 
 derived its name from an aged sage, Kapil 
 Muni, who lived outside the city in the shade 
 of an old banyan tree. 
 
 Southwards below the city on the lower 
 plains stretched green fields of rice, sandal 
 woods and mango groves, from the midst of 
 which rose the banners and towers of the tem- 
 ples, whose priests filled the air from morning 
 to night with the murmur of worship and chant- 
 ing. 
 
 These plains were rich and fertile, and irrigated 
 by continual streams of melted snow, which 
 poured down the mountain sides. The air, 
 tempered by a fresh north breeze, was ever cool 
 and pleasant. 
 
 Between the mountains and the ricefields 
 lay the city of Kapilabastu, of which only some 
 old ruined foundations remain, belonging to the 
 
 57 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 chief palace of the Shakya Kings. There is, 
 however, little else than foundations, for ancient 
 Indian buildings consisted only of blocks of 
 stone and wood covered with clay and plaster, 
 and were not strong enough to endure for cen- 
 turles. 
 
 In Kapilabastu, about the sixth century B.c. 
 lived the King Shudhodhana, strong of purpose 
 and reverenced by all men. His wife was 
 Maya Debi, beautiful as the moon and pure 
 
 
 
 THE SIX-TUSKED ELEPHANT (CAVE 10) 
 
 as the heart of a water-lily, but alas, they had 
 no child. This was a great sorrow to the King 
 and Queen, who desired above all things a little 
 son. 
 
 One night, however, the Queen, grieving over 
 her childlessness, fell asleep, and dreamt a dream 
 of a six-tusked white elephant which entered 
 her womb. She told this dream to the King, 
 
 58 
 
The Life of Gautama Buddha 
 
 her husband, who called around him his wise 
 men. To his intense joy they predicted that 
 Queen Maya would shortly bear a son, who 
 would either become a mighty monarch, or a 
 great and perfectly enlightened Teacher in the 
 world. However, the King wished that this long- 
 desired son should be a monarch, the heir to his 
 throne, the inheritor of his kingdom, and that he 
 should add glory and lustre to the name of his 
 father. 
 
 Queen Maya was filled with joy. The desire 
 of her life was fulfilled. She would have a 
 child, and she greatly longed that he should be 
 born at her old home, which was not far away 
 from her palace. Nothing was too good for the 
 mother of this longed-for little son. So the 
 King’s consent was soon obtained, and Queen 
 Maya set out for the home of her parents. 
 
 She travelled in state as befitted a great 
 Queen. Hundreds of servants, escorts of sol- 
 diers, litters for her Court ladies, and in the 
 midst Queen Maya herself in a gorgeous, golden 
 State palanquin, sparkling with jewels and 
 mounted on the back of a beautiful white 
 elephant. 
 
 It was high summer in the land. The blazing 
 sunshine poured down on the royal procession, 
 and even the Queen in all the luxury of her 
 
 59 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 golden palanquin felt discomfort. In the dis- 
 tance rose the cool grove of the famous Lum- 
 bini Gardens, and here the Queen would rest. 
 
 She descended from her seat to stroll through 
 its shadowy glades. Many kinds of wonderful 
 trees were there, with exquisite flowers, and 
 rich perfume, but the most beautiful of all was 
 the asoka, with its wide-spreading boughs, and 
 its thick green leaves and bud-covered branches 
 which bent down and touched the ground. 
 
 Attracted to this gentle shade, Queen Maya 
 and her maidens advanced, and the brilliant 
 sunshine faded into gloom. Her hour had 
 come. She stretched out her hand to one of 
 the scarlet-blossomed branches for support, and 
 from her right side above her waist came forth 
 her infant son. 
 
 The wonderful news spread, and to the cradle 
 of the child hastened chiefs to pay their homage, 
 scattering before him beautiful flowers and 
 presents. 
 
 Among those who came to see the royal 
 babe was a Brahman, named Asita, famed for 
 wisdom and scholarship, and for the interpre- 
 tation of signs; but on beholding the child he 
 wept, and said: “I am old and shall not live 
 to see the glory of the Almighty One. For 
 thy son will rule the world and will deliver all 
 
 60 
 
The Life of Gautama Buddha 
 
 who are caught in the net of ignorance and 
 folly.” The king was pleased, and named his 
 little son Sidhartha, which means ‘‘ He who 
 has fulfilled his desire.” 
 
 The king gave orders that none but the young 
 and fair should come near the child. The 
 little prince was brought up with the greatest 
 care and lived in the beautiful palace surrounded 
 by lovely gardens and enclosed in a great park. 
 He had for teachers the wisest men in his father’s 
 kingdom. His least desire was granted, if not 
 anticipated, and he was surrounded by play- 
 mates selected from all the noblest families of 
 the State. But he was never boisterous in 
 disposition and did not care much for noisy 
 games. He liked better to wander about the 
 beautiful gardens by himself. Everyone in the 
 palace noticed how calm, quiet and thought- 
 ful was his disposition, in spite of all the gaiety 
 of his surroundings. _ 
 
 There were temples inside the palace, where 
 the priests chanted, and the king, queen and 
 their subjects came to worship. Sacrifices took 
 place there, which all the boys enjoyed seeing ; 
 they shouted their delight when the victim 
 died; but not so the little prince. On cere- 
 monial and other occasions there was feasting 
 and drinking after the temple ritual was ended, 
 
 61 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 but from this also the young prince refrained, 
 preferring his own thoughts. 
 
 One afternoon, while he sat quietly under 
 a bower in the garden, a duck fell from above 
 at the Prince’s feet. After taking it up, he 
 found a bleeding sore with an arrow sticking 
 in the bird’s breast. Shocked with grief at 
 seeing so much suffering, he extracted the arrow 
 and bound up the sore. His cousin, Debadatta, 
 ran up to him and asked for the bird, as he had 
 shot it, but Sidhartha would not give it up to 
 him, saying that it belonged not to him who 
 had tried to take its life, but to him who had 
 saved it. 
 
 When the Prince grew up his father built 
 for him three palaces, where he dwelt at different 
 seasons of the year. Hach was of the utmost 
 luxury, and hundreds of beautiful dancing girls 
 were appointed for his entertainment. Then 
 at the age of twenty the king wished his son 
 to marry. In this way he hoped to attach 
 him to a worldly life. 
 
 A great feast was arranged, to which were 
 invited all the young nobles who had sisters, 
 so that Gautama could see and choose for him- 
 self. And amongst the fairest there was the 
 Prince’s cousin, Yashodhara. 
 
 On the last day of the revels Gautama dis- 
 
 62 
 
i 
 
 ‘ 
 
 
 
 WOMEN WORSHIPPING BUDDHA, 
 CAVE I. 
 
 By permission of the India Society. 
 

 
 THE TOILET OF A QUEEN, 
 CAVE I7. 
 
 By permission of the India Society. 
 
The Life of Gautama Buddha 
 
 tributed jewels as mementoes amongst his de- 
 parting guests. Yashodhara came last, and there 
 was nothing left for her, but Gautama took 
 from his neck the garland of flowers and placed 
 it round her, choosing her for his bride. 
 
 But Yashodhara’s father did not wish a daugh- 
 ter of his to marry one who was not a warrior 
 and Gautama hearing this proclaimed a contest. 
 To the tournament came all the bravest warriors, 
 all the most skilful marksmen and all the finest 
 wrestlers in the kingdom. With these the 
 Prince would compete and exhibit his prowess. 
 His relatives feared for him. ‘‘ How,” said they, 
 “will you be able to hit the quickly turning 
 boar, you who have always refused to aim at 
 any living thing?” Gautama only laughed, 
 and on the day he outstripped everyone and 
 carried off all the prizes. Thus he won the 
 beautiful Princess Yashodhara, and the wedding 
 was celebrated with the utmost magnificence. 
 
 All was now prospering, and the King felt 
 that his son was safely settled in a worldly life. 
 
 His father had laid out for him a beautiful 
 garden, which was situated on the other side of 
 the city. This garden was so lovely that it was 
 called the Garden of Happiness. Great trees 
 threw shade all round, and there were masses of 
 flowers, scarlet, purple and white, fountains in 
 
 63 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 marble basins, and in the midst a wonderful 
 pavilion for rest during the heat of the day. The 
 king felt sure that if his son once saw this garden 
 he would be content and wish for nothing fur- 
 ther, so he ordained that the Prince should 
 visit it. | 
 
 A proclamation was issued, commanding that 
 the streets of the city through which the royal 
 procession would pass should be gorgeously 
 decorated. Flags and banners were hung from 
 the windows, and none but the young and fair 
 were to be seen in the streets, and through this 
 gay scene the Prince was to pass in his royal 
 chariot to visit the marvellous garden. 
 
 The magnificent cavalcade set forth and all 
 went well until, at the corner of a street the 
 Prince saw creeping slowly along the pathetic 
 figure of an old and decrepit man, who humbly 
 begged for alms from the joyous crowd. 
 
 “* What kind of man is this ?”’ asked the Prince, 
 seeing for the first time in his life poverty-stricken 
 age. 
 
 ‘* Sire,” answered his charioteer, “‘ it is an aged 
 man bowed down by years.” 
 
 ** Are all men, then, or this man only,” said the 
 Prince, “ subject to age ?”’ And there was only 
 one reply: “‘ All men, O Prince !”’ 
 
 All pleasure in the wondrous garden was 
 
 64 
 
The Life of Gautama Buddha 
 
 quenched by this reply. Of what avail such 
 transient pleasures if the end for all was what he 
 had just witnessed. Sadly the Prince turned 
 homewards, reflecting deeply on the decay of 
 life. 
 
 Next day, the Prince drove forth again, and by 
 the roadside lay a sick man in terrible agony. 
 Never before had Gautama seen sickness of any 
 sort, and he was stricken with horror to hear in 
 answer to his enquiry, that all men were subject 
 to be seized at any time with diseases and mala- 
 dies such as had overtaken the unhappy sufferer 
 before him. Once more the cavalcade returned 
 without having seen the Garden of Delights. 
 
 A third day was fixed for the visit, but again 
 it was thwarted. A funeral procession descended 
 the beflagged and decorated street with a lifeless 
 body in its midst. Flowers and garlands were 
 strewn over the corpse, and the followers, who 
 were bowed with grief, cried out from time to 
 time, “Call on the Lord,” as they proceeded. 
 Once more the Prince sought an explanation of 
 his charioteer, and learned that this was Death, 
 the last and greatest enemy of man, who comes 
 to high and low alike, and from whom there is 
 no escape. He who begins life must also end it. 
 
 In silent and sorrowfu! meditation the young 
 Prince drove home, and the treasures of his 
 
 F 65 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 palace were as nothing to him, for now he knew 
 they were only his for a time, and that the fate 
 of those unhappy men whom he had seen would 
 surely and inevitably be his. 
 
 On the fourth day another sight met the 
 Prince’s eyes. Along the road came a man clad 
 in mean garments and carrying a beggar’s bowl, 
 but serene, dignified and self-controlled. How 
 could one apparently so poor have attained to 
 such peace and content? Who was he? The 
 charioteer, Channa, was appealed to, and an- 
 swered: “My lord, he is a religious man. He 
 has abandoned all longings, controlled all passion, 
 suffers no envy, and begs his daily food.” 
 
 A light dawned on Gautama. Not in riches, 
 power, luxury and wealth lay the secret of Life, 
 but in renunciation, poverty, self-control and 
 meditation. | 
 
 The rumour of his son’s adventures reached the 
 ears of the king. In spite of his strict orders, 
 the Prince had become acquainted with Age, 
 Disease and Death. Useless to issue orders for 
 the punishment of those who had thus shown 
 themselves; they were nowhere to be found. 
 The blow he dreaded was falling, and his son tend- 
 ing more and more to the life of the Teacher— 
 and beggar ! | 
 
 He summoned his Prime Minister and re- 
 
 66 
 
The Life of Gautama Buddha 
 
 doubled his precautions. . Triple walls were built 
 round his palace. More guards were mounted. 
 The kingdom was ransacked for more and more 
 beautiful dancing girls, who were commanded 
 never to cease from efforts to divert the Prince’s 
 mind with music and pleasure. Even his devoted 
 wife, Yashodhara, was troubled and suffered 
 many things in her dreams. 
 
 But the three terrible sights which he had seen 
 had sunk far too deeply into the heart of the 
 Prince to be eradicated by material pleasures. 
 Old Age, Disease, and lastly Death would in- 
 evitably come, and the more he reflected on these 
 things the more trivial and unworthy appeared 
 to him the life of heedless pleasure which was 
 apparently his lot. He could hardly eat or sleep, 
 but wandered round his gorgeous palace day and 
 night, searching for a solution of the terrible 
 problem which confronted him. All who are 
 born must die, and all who die must be reborn. 
 There was neither beginning nor end to the 
 Wheel of Life. 
 
 It was midnight, and for Gautama there was 
 no rest. All the evening had been given over 
 to revelry, sweet music and playing, while beauti- 
 ful maidens had danced their most alluring 
 dances in the hope of rousing in their royal 
 master some sign of interest. Outside a glorious 
 
 67 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 moon flooded the gardens with light, and wearied 
 with the revels, the Prince arose and went into 
 the garden, seeking in the silence of the night 
 an answer for his riddle. He sat down beneath 
 a great jambu tree, and to him there seemed to 
 come a light and the knowledge of the Way of 
 Peace. 
 
 For a time Sidhartha reflected on the wonderful 
 revelation, then he arose and slowly re-entered 
 his palace. He traversed the marble courts 
 bathed in silver moonlight and silent now save 
 for the tinkling of the fountains, and into the 
 great hall, where the dancing girls were lying, 
 wrapped in deepest slumber, their musical in- 
 struments beside them. ‘There they lay, just as 
 they had sunk down to rest, careless of their 
 appearance, dishevelled in their clothing, and 
 looking to his sad mind very like lifeless bodies. 
 For him not only had they ceased to be attrac- 
 tive, but they were even repulsive, and he 
 marvelled how a man could succumb to passion 
 if he were not seduced by dress, jewels and 
 artificial allurements. 
 
 Silently he left the hall. He must flee the 
 palace; but how? Guards were everywhere, 
 and the Prince, though nominally free, was 
 virtually imprisoned by his father. He sought 
 his faithful charioteer, Channa. ‘‘ Channa ! 
 
 638 
 
The Life of Gautama Buddha 
 
 arise and saddle my horse quickly and quietly. 
 We must go hence!’ And while Channa went 
 for the horse Sidhartha stole away to take one 
 more look at his wife and little son. 
 
 In the midst of the gay assembly the Princess 
 Yashodhara lay sweetly sleeping on her bed, 
 strewn thick with the sweet-scented jasmine 
 flowers, her newly born son in her arms. The 
 Prince yearned to take the tiny child in his 
 arms for a last kiss, but feared to awaken the 
 mother, so with tears in his eyes he took a last 
 fond look, bent down and kissed his wife’s foot. 
 Then he silently drew the silken curtains and 
 left the chamber. 
 
 In the palace courtyard stood the great horse 
 ready saddled, with Channa, the faithful chario- 
 teer, awaiting the arrival of the Master. 
 Silently he mounted, stole through the great 
 gates of the palace, past the sleeping guards, 
 gained the high road, and then urged on the 
 horse at topmost speed. 
 
 As the dawn broke they reached and forded 
 the river Anoma. When he arrived at the 
 farther bank the Prince dismounted and told his 
 faithful follower that the time had now come 
 for them to part. One by one he divested 
 himself of his gorgeous jewels and his princely 
 robes, until nothing remained but the fine white 
 
 69 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 muslin under-garments. Then from the woods 
 appeared a hunter bearing in his hands the 
 russet robes of a hermit. The Prince took 
 these, clad himself in them, and handing his 
 fine muslins to Channa disappeared into the forest. 
 
 Sadly Channa turned homewards, weeping and 
 wailing, and leading Kantaka to the city of 
 Kapilabastu with a great load of sorrow, and 
 Sidhartha tarried in the forest alone. 
 
 For seven long years he dwelt there in the 
 forest searching for the way of escape from 
 those three terrible woes. He searched in many 
 places where he hoped to obtain peace and know- 
 ledge from higher powers. No penance was 
 too hard for him to perform, no fast too severe 
 for him to endure. He reduced his food to the 
 smallest quantity sufficient to support life, sub- 
 jected himself to the most rigorous self-discipline 
 and at last became so weak that he fainted and 
 lay on the ground as if dead. But still the 
 longed-for Enlightenment tarried. | 
 
 Attracted by the story of his mortifications 
 and the rigour of his life, five wandering hermits 
 attached themselves to the Holy Man and 
 became his first disciples. The fame of his 
 holiness had now spread throughout the sur- 
 rounding country, and pilgrims flocked to receive 
 his blessing. 
 
 70 
 
The Life of Gautama Buddha 
 
 Seated under an old bo-tree by the Niranjana 
 river, now the Falgu, he still meditated on the 
 great Secret, and made the firm resolution that 
 until he had attained it he would not move from 
 the place. . 
 
 And that night it came. He received the 
 Light, and it grew clear to him that mortifications 
 and fasts and all the terrible austerities to which 
 he had subjected his body were unavailing; he 
 knew now that it was the inward thirst for life 
 which was the cause of all the evil in the world. 
 Could men but rid themselves of all desire, then 
 they would be happy, and the three great woes 
 would be conquered. This freedom was Nir- 
 vana, and the life of struggle towards it he called 
 the Way of Peace. So he attained the great 
 Enlightenment and became Buddha. 
 
 A flood of Peace filled his mind. Now he 
 would be able to show mankind the path of 
 Righteousness, and the sorrows of Life would be 
 vanquished. Rising, he went down into the 
 river to bathe and refresh himself with the cool 
 water. After bathing he found that he had not 
 strength enough to raise himself out of the water, 
 so weak had he become through his long fasts. 
 Espying the branch of an overhanging tree, he 
 grasped it and with its aid reached the bank, 
 where he sank down as if dead. Now, a beautiful 
 
 71 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 maiden,’ who was the daughter of the head-man 
 of a village near-by, woke up long, long before 
 dawn, feeling uneasy. Something urged her to 
 go with food to Lord Buddha. From her father’s 
 great herd of cows she chose the finest black 
 one, and cooked rice with its milk with great 
 devotion. Then long before the sun was up, 
 the morning dew still upon each blade of grass, 
 she carried this food on her head to the thin, frail, 
 fair figure lying on the ground under the old 
 bo-tree. Being too weak to murmur a word, 
 Buddha ate the sweet rice, got strength and 
 blessed her. 
 
 But Mara the Evil One viewed the Enlighten- 
 ment of the Holy Man with hatred. He deter- 
 mined to overthrow him, so assembling all his 
 demon hosts and mounting his terrible War 
 Elephant, he advanced against the Tree of 
 Wisdom, where sat Buddha surrounded by the 
 hosts of Heaven. So terrible was the sight of 
 the Evil One that all fled, leaving Buddha alone. 
 
 Then their leader advanced, disguised as a 
 messenger and bearing a letter from the princes 
 of his old home, imploring him to come to their 
 assistance, for great calamities had _ befallen 
 them. Debadatta had usurped the throne, cast 
 his old father into prison, and held as captives 
 his dear wife and only son. But Buddha, in 
 
 72 
 

 
 THE TEMPTATION OF BUDDHA. 
 CAVE I. 
 
 (See page 185.) 
 From a copy in the possession of Kallianjee Curumsey, Esq., Bombay. 
 
"ZI AAV) 
 
 
 
The Life of Gautama Buddha 
 
 spite of this dreadful news, was not to be turned 
 from his high purpose. Then came forward 
 Mara’s three beautiful daughters, and they used 
 all their arts to tempt the Holy Man: they 
 danced before him, offering him the lordship of 
 the world, but as they approached him they 
 were turned into hideous hags. Mara was now 
 enraged at the failure of all his devices to tempt 
 the Buddha from his Chosen Path, and rallying 
 his evil troops hurled them at the Saint. A 
 terrific thunderstorm accompanied by a violent 
 whirlwind burst upon him, and deadly poisoned 
 weapons, burning coals and scorching sand filled 
 the air around him, accompanied by a fearful 
 darkness; but lo, all was of no avail, for the 
 fierce thunderbolts changed into lotus blooms 
 which fell harmlessly and carpeted the ground, 
 while perfumes filled the air, and in the glory 
 that burst forth Mara and his evil hosts fled away 
 discomfited. 
 
 For seven weeks longer Buddha remained in 
 his old position under the bo-tree, meditating on 
 the glories of Nirvana, and then he arose, left 
 the forest, and went forth into the world once 
 more, to spread abroad the good tidings of the 
 Way of Peace. 
 
 He first came to Benares, for it was there that 
 the five wanderers lived who had been his former 
 
 73 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 disciples. They saw him approaching them and 
 determined they would pay him no reverence but 
 merely show him those courtesies which were 
 owing to his human birth. But Buddha divined 
 their intention and met them with such over- 
 whelming love that they were ashamed, and 
 rising paid him all the honour and reverence that 
 was due to their Master. 
 
 When they were seated he unfolded to them 
 his first doctrines and instructed them, and they 
 received and practised his precepts with such 
 eagerness and assiduity that at the end of a week 
 they themselves were filled with the Divine Fire, 
 and set forth to carry his Message to the world. 
 
 In the Deer Park at Benares Buddha preached 
 his first great sermon, the fame of which spread 
 all over India, till it presently reached the ears 
 of the old King Suddhodana, who, realising that 
 this wonderful preacher was the Prince his 
 son, sent messengers desiring that the Holy One 
 should visit him. And on receiving his message 
 Buddha sent word that he was returning home. 
 
 It was during the cold season that the Holy 
 One, accompanied by a great number of dis- 
 ciples, set forth for Kapilabastu. The spring 
 was in the land, the grass was green, birds were 
 singing, and the road on either side was bordered 
 
 with trees laden with gorgeous scarlet blossoms. 
 
 74, 
 
The Life of Gautama Buddha 
 
 When he neared the city the whole populace 
 came out to greet him with flowers in their hands 
 to scatter in his path; the great nobles with 
 their ladies and an escort of soldiers assembled 
 to give a royal reception to the son of their king; 
 but walking slowly through the crowd, and 
 gathering alms with his little mendicant’s bowl 
 came a humble beggar, clad in tattered yellow 
 garments, in whom, to their amazement, they 
 recognised the Prince. Through the gates of the 
 city he came, passed up the crowded streets, and 
 amidst the acclamations of the multitudes en- 
 tered the gate of the palace. The princess who 
 was told of this entry reported it to the king, 
 who at once went out to remonstrate with his 
 son, saying that to appear as a beggar was to 
 put the royal family to shame. “ Not one of 
 all our ancestors ever begged his bread,”’ said the 
 king. ‘“* But my ancestry is that of the Bud- 
 dhas,” replied his son, “ and every one of them 
 lived upon alms.” Upon this the old king was 
 converted, and taking his son’s begging bowl in 
 his hand, conducted him with every honour into 
 the palace. 
 
 Then he visited the rooms of his wife, Yashod- 
 hara, who had not come with the rest of the 
 family to greet him, for she wished to welcome 
 him alone in his own part of the palace and 
 
 75 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 without any onlookers. As soon as she saw him 
 she fell at his feet and did homage to him. Then 
 he saw that she too had tried to follow her 
 beloved husband on the Path of Peace. No 
 longer was she wearing the rich robes and jewels 
 of a princess, but was clad in a plain russet 
 garment and had worn the same sad clothing 
 ever since his departure. 
 
 But the Buddha had not yet seen his little son. 
 So on the morrow his mother dressed him in his 
 most gorgeous robes and splendid jewels, and 
 sent him to ask his father for his imheritance, 
 telling the boy that his father possessed great 
 mines of wealth which should be his by right. 
 
 The boy hesitated at first, for he had known 
 no father save the old king, but his mother, 
 taking him to the window, pointed out the 
 Buddha who was then passing through the gate. 
 The boy went straight to him and asked him 
 frankly for his inheritance. The Buddha gazed 
 at him for a moment and then turning to one of 
 his disciples said to him, “* Give!” And Yashod- 
 hara knew that her husband would receive the boy 
 amongst his disciples. So Rahula, too, received 
 the yellow robe. 
 
 The time had come for Buddha to leave his 
 home once more, and this time he would take 
 with him his little son. 
 
 76 
 
The Life of Gautama Buddha 
 
 Gautama’s teaching now began to spread, and 
 thousands of converts were made, including the 
 king, rich men, Brahmins, and a great number 
 of householders. The Master now set out for 
 
 
 
 BUDDHA TEACHING (CAVE 16) 
 
 Rajagriha, and halted for a little while at the 
 mango grove of Anupia. It was here that a 
 ereat number of the Shakya princes followed him 
 to join his disciples, among whom were his two 
 cousins—-Ananda, who became his personal atten- 
 dant, and Debadatta, who was not fond of him. 
 
 77 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 Another great convert was Anathapinda, a 
 very wealthy merchant, who hearing of his fame 
 gave a great sum of money to the Order, and 
 begged the Master to visit his home. Then all 
 along the road which stretched between Raja- 
 eriha and Srabasthi, the merchant’s home, he 
 caused to be built at every league a resting- 
 place, and at the end of the journey he bought, 
 for as much gold as would cover the ground, a 
 beautiful grove, in which he erected a wonderful 
 house for the Master and his disciples, with fine 
 halls, wide terraces and beautiful water-tanks, 
 with cells around it for the eighty disciples. 
 When Buddha saw it, Anathapinda asked him 
 what he should do with it, to which Buddha 
 replied that it should be bestowed on the Order. 
 Then the merchant took a golden vessel of water, 
 and from it poured some into the Master’s hand, 
 in this way confirming the gift. 
 
 There were round this beautiful monastery 
 cloisters, surrounded by lotus-pools, fragrant 
 mango trees and slender fan palms, with 
 banyan trees, whose roots dropping from the 
 branches bury themselves and form new stems, 
 so making whole shady groves and leafy walks 
 from one tree. 
 
 There was also another famous grove—the 
 Bamboo Grove, given by King Bimbisara, in 
 
 73 
 
The Life of Gautama Buddha 
 
 which place Buddha passed the first year of his 
 ministry. The next three rainy seasons were 
 spent in the Bamboo Grove at Rajagriha. There 
 it was he taught that the offering of righteousness 
 was better than that of material sacrifices, and he 
 championed the beasts of the field, whom men so 
 thoughtlessly and wantonly torture and slay. 
 He was ever on the side of compassion and mercy. 
 
 That the Sangha (the colony of his disciples) 
 grew so rapidly was certainly not due to the 
 ease of the life Gautama offered men. We 
 get many glimpses of their austerity as they 
 slept on the bare earth with no covering but 
 the yellow robe: ‘‘ Cold, Master, is the winter 
 night ; the time of frost is coming; rough is the 
 ground with the treading of the hoofs of cattle ; 
 thin is the couch of leaves, and light is the 
 yellow robe; the winter wind blows keen,”’ said 
 a dweller in Alavi as he saw the Teacher seated 
 in the midst of the Sinsapa Forest absorbed in 
 meditation. 7 
 
 Amongst his converts were a great number of 
 princesses, accustomed only to walk upon smooth 
 marble and to be protected from the heat of the 
 sun and the violence of the wind, who set out 
 to walk on foot to the hermitage where Buddha 
 was residing. They then joined the Order and 
 carried out its rules with great devotion. After 
 
 79 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 this Buddha showed that the time had come to 
 establish a proper order of nuns. 
 
 The ministry of Buddha was not entirely 
 unopposed. Not only were the Brahmins often 
 his great opponents, but some of the powerful 
 kings, who from countless past births had been 
 his enemies. Buddha, however, knowing of 
 their enmity, always spoke well of them, and 
 occasionally preached to them, and finally pre- 
 vailed by means of his great patience and for- 
 bearance. 
 
 At the close of the wet season Master and 
 disciples would mingle once more with the busy 
 throng of men. The day was most carefully 
 planned. Rising at dawn, Gautama would go 
 out either alone or with his followers to village 
 or town collecting alms. He would then break 
 his fast, and would discourse to the monks, and 
 give them exercises in meditation suited to their 
 attainments. They would then leave him, going 
 off each to his favourite spot to meditate, whilst 
 Gautama would lie down on his right side “in 
 the lion posture ’’ in a quiet chamber, or, better 
 still, in the cool shade of the forest and rest— 
 not sleeping, yet not practising systematic medi- 
 tation. Then the people would come to him 
 for preaching and advice. When he had taken 
 pity on them he would bathe and spend a period 
 
 30 
 
The Life of Gautama Buddha 
 
 in meditation in the cool of the evening. And 
 in the first watch of the night he would answer 
 the questions of the disciples or preach to 
 them. 
 
 “ While his discussions with the learned,” says 
 a disciple, ‘“‘ were more or less formal and often 
 coldly logical, in his conversation with ordinary 
 men the Master generally resorted to similes and 
 parables, fables and folk-lore, historical anecdotes 
 and episodes, proverbs and popular sayings.” 
 His similes and parables are drawn for the most 
 part from the jungle—the spoor of elephants, 
 the ways of woodmen, the life of trees—or from 
 the village: herdsman, farmer, fletcher, 
 charioteer, all provide him with images, whilst 
 the current folk-lore of his day was converted to 
 religious purposes. The great things of nature: 
 too—the “ patient earth,” the wonderful moon, 
 the sun in his splendour, the majestic rivers— 
 these supplied him with a wealth of imagery. 
 
 It is said of him that when asked by a farmer 
 why he did not work for his living, he answered 
 by the charming Parable of the Sower, in which 
 Gautama claims that he, too, is a farmer, and 
 that he sows seed whose crop is ambrosia; 
 which of course led to the farmer’s conversion. 
 As Sariputta remarked, “It is by similes that 
 men come often to understanding.” 
 
 G : 2.8L 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 Though a reformed one, Buddha was brought 
 up and lived and died a Hindu. The success of 
 his system was due to his wonderful personality, 
 his sweet reasonableness, his courageous and 
 constant insistence upon a few fundamental 
 principles, and the way he made his teaching 
 accessible to all, high or low. 
 
 Suffering is caused by craving of a wrong sort ; 
 to get rid of this craving we must busy our- 
 selves with right moral conduct. 
 
 The teaching of the first Buddhist missionaries 
 was eagerly welcomed, and though it found 
 acceptance at first chiefly amongst the nobility, 
 it was at heart a democratic movement into 
 which Brahmins, kings, warriors, cultivators, 
 and men and women of low caste and of no 
 caste, were equally welcomed. 
 
 Hither would come to him kings and their 
 retinues, and other lay people, or Brahmins and 
 religious teachers who had heard of his fame ; and 
 on moonlight nights when the air is fragrant 
 with the blossoms of flowering trees and solemn 
 with the march of the stars, they would sit 
 enthralled by his discourse on the eternal 
 verities. 
 
 At other times his disciples might be seen 
 pacing with downcast eyes amongst the villages 
 of Magadha and Kosala, giving in return for 
 
 82 
 
The Life of Gautama Buddha 
 
 their daily food the teaching of the Law, which 
 we are reminded again and again is “ the ereatest 
 of gifts.” 
 
 To this strange assembly of men and women 
 Gautama gave fully and without reserve his 
 philosophical and moral teachings, and it was 
 to them he entrusted the handing on of the torch 
 when he passed away. 
 
 So Ananda was appointed, and for twenty-five 
 years was Gautama’s “ faithful shadow,” com- 
 bining the duties of pupil, body-servant and 
 chaplain with admirable devotion. 
 
 As Buddha was wandering alone he came to the 
 “ house of the potter” at Rajagriha. The old 
 man, Pukkusati, had been a king, and a friend 
 of Bimbisara: perhaps the two kings and the 
 physician Jivaka had been fellow-students at the 
 great university. Gautama asked a night’s shel- 
 ter at the potter’s house. He was told that a friar 
 of noble birth was already within, but was 
 allowed to share the hospitality of the house; 
 and the two old men sat meditating, till Gautama, 
 noting the serenity of his companion, asked him 
 why he had left the world and who was his 
 teacher. Pukkusati replied that it was the 
 Shakyamuni whom he followed. Gautama did 
 not make himself known at once, but began to 
 expound the Dhamma, till Pukkusati cried out 
 
 83 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 with joy, “I have found the Master whom I 
 sought !” So sure was Gautama’s touch on 
 human hearts and minds. “ More potent than 
 his method and his word was the Blessed One’s 
 wonderful personality. When he talked with 
 men his serene look inspired them with awe and 
 reverence, and his lovely voice struck them with 
 rapture and amazement. To have come under 
 his spell is to be his for ever. His heart always 
 overflowed with kindness. To meet him was to 
 be penetrated by his love and to know him was 
 to love him for ever.” 
 
 Buddha had been suffering from a _ severe 
 illness and had declared that he would not live 
 much longer. Whilst staying in the city of 
 Pawa he was invited to a meal by a blacksmith 
 named Chunda. To do honour to Buddha the 
 smith killed a pig and roast pork was the prin- 
 cipal dish offered to the Exalted Visitor. Buddha 
 became very faint, and though he set out for 
 Kushinagara, had to rest many times on the 
 way. At last he reached the city and said to 
 Ananda: ‘* Inform the smith, Chunda, that his 
 offering will bring a great reward, for it will be 
 the immediate cause of my attaining Nirvana.” 
 Buddha said this, lest Chunda should feel remorse 
 or others might blame him, but he gave strict 
 orders that the remainder of the offering was to 
 
 84 
 
The Life of Gautama Buddha 
 
 be buried. Then he lay down on a couch in a 
 grove of blossoming sal-trees near Kushinagara, 
 on the bank of the river Hiranyavati (probably 
 now the Gandak), sending a message to inform 
 the Malwa princes of his arrival. Thus a great 
 company of nobles, princes, priests and ladies of 
 the court assembled around the Buddha’s death- 
 bed. None of his disciples was more stricken 
 with grief than Ananda, to whom Buddha left 
 instructions about his burial and the continuance 
 of the Rule. When Ananda wept bitterly the 
 dying Buddha comforted him, saying that he had 
 done well, and that if he persevered he too would 
 win freedom, and he prophesied that the very 
 least of those present should at last prevail and 
 reach Nirvana. Shortly after this he passed 
 away into the infinite peace of Nirvana—which 
 ended the long cycle of his early lives; and the 
 Malwa princes wrapped his body in fold upon 
 fold of finest cloth, and for six days it lay in 
 state. On the seventh day it was burnt on a 
 magnificent pyre in the coronation hall of the 
 Princes, and the body was entirely consumed, 
 leaving only the relics like a heap of pearls, of 
 which the chief, enshrined in glorious monuments, 
 were the four teeth, the two cheek-bones and the 
 skull. 
 
 85 
 
CHAPTER FOUR 
 MY SECOND VISIT TO AJANTA 
 
 By the middle of the year 1919, my portrait- 
 drawing had enabled me to save over two hundred 
 pounds, wherewith to buy the necessary materials 
 for a prolonged stay in the jungle, including camp- 
 ing kit and stores. I decided to take with me as 
 little as possible, and set off with a cot, medicine 
 box, tinned food, water filter, petrol lamps, tins 
 of petrol, rolls of drawing and tracing papers, 
 ladders, large and small drawing boards, and one 
 or two other requisites for life in the open. I had 
 one servant with me as companion and cook. So 
 the greater expedition began, and early in June 
 I left Calcutta for the second time in order to 
 study in the caves, well aware by this time of the 
 ereat value of my prospective studies. 
 
 On this occasion I did not leave the train at 
 Jalgaon, but proceeded a little farther, to a 
 station called Pachora, on the main line of the 
 Great Indian Peninsular Railway, two hundred 
 and thirty miles from the west coast of Bombay. 
 
 Since my last visit I was glad to find that a 
 narrow-gauge railway, running north-east through 
 Khandesh in the valley of the river Tapti, from 
 
 86 
 
 
 
My Second Visit to Ajanta 
 
 Pachora Junction to Jamner, had been opened, 
 and that the nearest point to the Ajanta caves 
 was Pahur station, twenty-five miles from the 
 junction. 
 On arriving at Pachora, very late at night, I 
 had to wait until morning for the train to Pahur. 
 Being this time a second-class passenger, I was 
 
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 MAP OF CENTRAL INDIA, SHOWING AJANTA AND BAGH 
 
 allowed to occupy, at once, the second-class 
 compartment of the narrow-gauge railway. The 
 compartment stood in the fields some distance 
 from the station. In the dark a number of 
 coolies carried my luggage, and we went forth- 
 with to the carriage for the night’s rest, instead 
 of remaining in the waiting room at the station. 
 My servant, Narayan, soon made beds for us 
 
 87 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 both, and we tried to go to sleep till daybreak. 
 In the village some little distance away we heard 
 the sounds of music, with drums and flutes, songs 
 and dances, and also saw through the window of 
 the carriage the glowing light of torches in the 
 distance, piercing the starry darkness. It was 
 impossible for me to sleep, so I set off to see what 
 festivity was on foot, leaving Narayan behind 
 with the things in the compartment. 
 
 I found that an Indian Jatra performance was 
 taking place under a gigantic banyan tree, in an 
 open field by the side of the village. In the 
 middle of a great crowd a youth, dressed up as a 
 girl, danced and sang with considerable grace. 
 Most of the listeners sat on the ground, and a 
 ereat many torches were hung from the branches 
 of the tree. The young lady in the middle 
 seemed to be singing of her joys and sorrows ; 
 and, what appeared to be a choir of about twenty 
 persons chanted the refrain to the accompaniment 
 of drums, flutes and other instruments. It was 
 a kind of Marathi language, which it was beyond 
 my capacity to understand; and as the dance 
 was but a monotonous repetition, it did not 
 amuse me to stay very long. | 
 
 Soon the dawn broke through the eastern sky, 
 and the cocks began to crow. The dogs howled 
 in the village; the lamps were already out and 
 
 } 
 
 88 
 
My Second Visit to Ajanta 
 
 the people astir. As I came near the station I 
 saw a small hut, and near by a large crowd had 
 assembled. I found that it was a little sweet- 
 shop, inside which travellers were conversing 
 affectionately with the bearded proprietor, to 
 whom they referred as their ‘‘mama,”’ or uncle. 
 The old shopkeeper was frying jilebies (a favourite 
 Indian sweetmeat) and serving them hot to his 
 eager and hungry customers. I joined the crowd, 
 and having secured a portion of the delicacy, 
 carried it back to the train to eat with Narayan 
 on the journey to Pahur. 
 
 There were hardly any passengers on this line, 
 and there was only one second-class carriage in 
 the train, with three or four third-class carriages 
 joined together. My drawing boards were too 
 big to go in the van, but I explained fully to the 
 guard the importance of conveying them, and 
 they were finally carried with both doors of the 
 van open, and a man in charge of the luggage 
 inside. 
 
 In the morning at eight our train left Pachora 
 Junction, but soon halted again to take up a 
 stout little gentleman who came hurrying along. 
 He was dressed in khaki knicker-bockers and 
 puttees, and wore a solar topi. He came into 
 my compartment and was also bound for Pahur. 
 
 Our train finally left the junction for Pahur, 
 
 89 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 from which the caves are only a distance of about 
 fifteen miles to the south. 
 
 The gentleman who had so nearly missed the 
 train was a railway engineer or surveyor, and he 
 asked the guard to join us in the carriage. 
 Amongst other luggage he had a double-barrelled 
 gun, and as we travelled through the cotton fields 
 we saw numbers of buck and deer feeding in 
 the fields. My fellow passenger became quite 
 excited, and asked the guard to stop the train 
 in order that he might shoot some of them. 
 The train stopped in the middle of the fields and 
 the hunter got down and made towards the 
 herds of deer; but after a few unsuccessful shots 
 the game scattered, and he was obliged to return 
 to the train which was ready to start without — 
 him. He was much disappointed and showed a 
 long face. 
 
 Having passed Sindorni station, we arrived at 
 Pahur soon after ten o’clock the same morning, 
 and I felt that at last I had reached the threshold 
 of my undertaking. 
 
 I was disappointed to find no bullock-cart 
 to carry my things to the caves, though I had 
 previously sent word to Ajanta and to the station- 
 master of Pahur. Pahur, being the last big 
 village in the British territory, there is a post 
 office, dak bungalow and police outpost. Here 
 
 90 
 
My Second Visit to Ajanta 
 
 through the help of a police official and of the 
 village head-man, Patel, I was able to find two 
 bullock carts and one cart-driver. This was no 
 easy task at Pahur during the cotton season, as 
 the people worked long hours in the fields, and 
 earned more money than by driving carts. 
 
 My servant Narayan was anything but a skuil- 
 ful driver, so I took the place of the absent driver, 
 and we started off in the forenoon to go to 
 Fardapur, which was only about ten miles away. 
 
 The bullocks in these parts are almost wild, 
 and they are hard to drive, especially without 
 their proper masters. I found this out to my 
 cost, for as we descended a slope near the bank 
 of the River Baghora, the cart ran off the road and 
 collided with the boulders in mid-stream. A 
 wheel came off, and a tin of oil burst open and 
 floated with the current. I saw it was no good 
 attempting to drive these wild animals any 
 farther, so I left Narayan behind with the cart and 
 the luggage till the real driver should come from 
 the fields, and started for the caves myself with 
 the remaining cart. 
 
 On my way to Fardapur, I saw on the left, many 
 people and carts gathered together in the bare 
 fields, by the side of a tiny village called Vakod. 
 It was a bright sunny afternoon when I reached 
 this village, and I was told that a bazaar was 
 
 91 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 being -held that particular day, this being a 
 weekly event. I was glad to buy some provisions, 
 such as a few vegetables, potatoes, bringals, 
 onions, a little goat’s meat and some rice. ‘This 
 is the last boundary village of the British Govern- 
 ment in this part, and I found there was here also 
 a small branch post office in a little low mud 
 house. 
 
 Fardapur, which we approached towards dusk, 
 is a small village of great antiquity, and the 
 remains of the Mogul fort is now used as a rest- 
 house, called Caravansarai, which was probably 
 built at the time of King Aurenzeb. This village 
 being the first border village in the Nizam’s terri- 
 tory, the Mohammedan rulers fortified it against 
 invasion from the north by the construction of 
 several forts. 2 
 
 The river Baghora, issuing from the Ajanta 
 caves, runs through the Fardapur village; the 
 inhabitants wash and bathe in it, and drink the 
 water. The bullocks, buffaloes, and in fact all 
 cattle, also drink and lie in this stream, and in 
 the summer there is very little water. In the 
 monsoon, or rainy season, the water gets very 
 dirty and muddy, and I was glad that I had not 
 forgotten to bring a filter with me. The popula- 
 tion in the Fardapur village is not more than 
 about three hundred or four hundred, consisting 
 
 92 
 
My Second Visit to Ajanta 
 
 of Hindus and Mussulmans, some of whom are 
 occupied in cultivating cotton and maize; others 
 are labourers, blacksmiths, shoemakers or washer- 
 men. Unfortunately an ugly little cotton mill 
 has recently been erected on the roadside, near 
 the Fardapur village, and this greatly spoils the 
 picturesque aspect of what would otherwise be a 
 wild and romantic spot. 
 
 By the evening I arrived at the travellers’ 
 bungalow, and occupied the room where I pre- 
 viously stayed with my Japanese friends, but 
 this time I was alone. Narayan arrived a little 
 later with the cart and the rest of the luggage, 
 and we began preparations for the evening meal. 
 
 We were soon faced with many difficulties. 
 Water had to be fetched from the river, which was 
 a good distance away. There was wood to be 
 gathered ; and provisions, such as milk and eggs, 
 had to be bought and carried from the village. _ 
 
 Next morning, when I saw the curator of the 
 caves, who lived at the old Sarai at Fardapur, I 
 asked him about the letters and telegrams which 
 I had previously sent. He said he had not 
 received them, and asked me for the permit to 
 copy the frescoes, which I showed him. How- 
 ever, in spite of all the difficulties, I was able 
 to settle down to begin my work, and I went to 
 and from the caves every day. 
 
 93 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 At this travellers’ bungalow at Fardapur any- 
 one can stay, by paying a hali-rupee per day 
 (which is much lower in price than the British 
 Indian rupee, value about thirteen annas), pro- 
 vided that there is a room or that it is not occupied 
 by any of the Government officials. One has to 
 take one’s own bedding, food, cook and servants. 
 
 The situation was easier for me this time, as I 
 knew my way to the caves, and had some pre- 
 liminary knowledge from my previous visit of the 
 treasures which they contained. 
 
 94 
 
CHAPTER FIVE 
 I BEGIN MY WORK IN THE CAVES 
 
 In the course of the third century B.c. a few of 
 the great Buddhist monks had a strong desire to 
 form a Sangha—a colony for the worship of the 
 Lord Buddha. 
 
 They searched eagerly for a retreat from the 
 noisy world, and ultimately discovered a_ ro- 
 mantic, secluded spot in the gorge near Ajanta, 
 where a few natural holes in the hillside suggested 
 the possibility of carving out the rocky scarp to 
 form temples, monastic halls, chapels and dor- 
 mitories, where they could study the Buddhist 
 culture in peace. 
 
 Soon the fame of this group of saintly men 
 spread over the country and attracted good and 
 learned people, the rich among whom helped to 
 establish a proper university in this ravine, where 
 Religion, Philosophy, Art, Ethics, and all higher 
 things could be studied. 
 
 The nucleus of this ideal university was a 
 chapel, which was exclusively devoted to cere- 
 monial worship, and is now known as cave 10. It 
 was cut out of a large piece of living rock in the 
 sheer side of the cliff with infinite labour. 
 
 99 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 Before beginning my work at the caves I made a 
 preliminary inspection of these ancient temples, 
 so as to form an idea of how to proceed with my 
 studies. 
 
 I decided to begin by copying the wall-paint- 
 ings, starting with the most primitive and work- 
 ing gradually up to the highly-developed ones, 
 in which way I should be better able to follow 
 the different stages of this great school of Indian 
 art. 
 
 The oldest group of caves at Ajanta lies in the 
 middle of the crescent-shaped hill; and cave 
 10, with its great semi-circular arch and gate- 
 window and the rest of this central group of six 
 caves, were the first to be excavated, as the rock 
 is at that pomt much smoother and more per- 
 pendicular than anywhere else, and the smooth 
 surface extends almost to the bottom of the 
 ravine. 
 
 Cave 10 is a large chaitya, or chapel of wor- 
 ship, and is the deepest and loftiest of all the 
 caves at Ajanta. It looks from outside like a 
 single great, open gate, and possesses no porch 
 or specially made top window for light as in 
 its companion on the right, chaitya cave 9. 
 It measures ninety-five feet long by forty-one 
 feet wide and thirty-six feet high, and was once 
 fitted with gorgeous ornamental wooden ribs. 
 
 96 
 
I Begin my Work in the Caves 
 
 There are twenty-nine pillars surrounding the 
 nave, all with plain octagons without bases or 
 capitals, but once the whole of the cave was 
 covered with very thin white plaster, and was 
 painted at a very early period, probably from 
 350 to 200 B.c. | 
 
 The triforium belt above the pillars has also 
 been painted with figures, but scarcely any traces 
 now remain. 
 
 In these early days the Buddhists’ shrine did 
 not contain any image, but was a plain, semi- 
 circular shaped dome, commonly called a dagoba, 
 but technically known as a stupa, which was 
 made of a huge mound of earth ornamented out- 
 side with bricks, terra-cotta and stone. A dome- 
 shaped stupa is found in every chaitya cave at 
 Ajanta. In this early cave it is perfectly plain 
 and simple, with a lower base over fifteen feet in 
 diameter. The square relic casket on the stupa: 
 in this cave was cut out of the rock and still 
 retains its original form, but the wooden lotus- 
 leaf canopy, which was on its top, and the wooden 
 ribs which once adorned the roof, have now all 
 perished. Innumerable nests of wild bees now 
 hang down from the top of the cave front. Wild 
 parrots, pigeons and bats fly in and out at free 
 will. Within, despite the spaciousness, the air 
 is terribly foul, but the light is fairly good. 
 
 H 97 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 There is an inscription on the front right 
 hand top corner of this great chaitya cave 10. 
 The characters are in very early Sanscrit type, 
 rather large and crude. It reads, “ Basathiputasa 
 Kathadito ghara mukha danam,”’ which means : 
 “The gift of a house door front by Basathiputa.”’ 
 
 Probably this cave was excavated by one of the 
 ancient powerful Andhra kings, or a very rich 
 merchant Basathiputa of this early period of the 
 third century, B.c. 
 
 About thirty years ago there were some very 
 fine fragments of paintings on the wall of this 
 temple, but now they have all vanished. Var- 
 nish was applied to them by European officers who 
 copied them from time to time. The object of 
 the application of varnish was to bring out the 
 colours, but the final effect has been that the 
 fragments have gone completely black; what- 
 ever remained has been scribbled over by the 
 visitors to the caves. 
 
 In this temple one can still just recognise, 
 though they have been almost completely des- 
 troyed, the Jataka tales illustrating the story of 
 the six-tusked elephant, stories of the previous 
 incarnations of Buddha, and also many other 
 Buddhist legends painted on the wall. As the 
 story goes, the Bodhisatva (the previous birth 
 name of Buddha) came to life as the chief elephant 
 
 98 
 
I Begin my Work in the Caves 
 
 of a great herd of eight thousand, in the Hima- 
 layas. They dwelt near Lake Shadhubata in a, 
 golden cave, amid pools of white lilies, blue, white 
 and red lotuses, and thickets of red paddy, fields of 
 melons and of many other plants. Pure white 
 was the chief elephant, with red feet and face and 
 a trunk like a silver rope, and his name was 
 Chadanta. He had two queens, Kulasuvada and 
 Mahasuvada. Once whilst walking with his 
 queens he struck a sal tree with his forehead and 
 a shower of twigs and red ants fell upon Kulasu- 
 vada, but on her rival fell only flowers and pollen. 
 _ Later Mahasuvada imagined that Kulasuvada 
 _was his favourite wife, and cherished a erievance 
 against him. She prayed to the gods that she 
 might be reborn as a beautiful maiden and become 
 the Queen of Benares, for she said to herself : 
 “IT shall be lovely in his eyes and then I shall do 
 what I please. I will speak to the king and he 
 shall send a hunter with a poisoned arrow to 
 wound and slay the elephant and bring me a pair 
 of his tusks which give forth six-coloured rays.” 
 Thenceforth she took no food, and pining away, 
 she died. The gods granted her prayer, and in 
 due time she was reborn, became the Queen of 
 Benares, and asked of her lord a boon, which she 
 would not reveal until all the king’s huntsmen 
 were assembled. Then she proclaimed her wicked 
 
 99 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 intention to capture the tusks of Chadanta. The 
 chief hunter, Sonuta, whom she sent, took all 
 needful implements with him, attired himself in 
 the yellow robes of a holy man, and after travel- 
 ling for seven years, shot the royal elephant with 
 the poisoned arrow, but he was unable to cut off 
 the tusks, although the elephant lay down and 
 let him climb up his trunk. So the elephant 
 himself with his trunk pulled them out and gave 
 them to the hunter, who departed. But before 
 the other elephants could reach him Chadanta 
 had died. 
 
 So Sonuta returned, and when the tusks were 
 brought to the queen, she cried: “‘ Do you tell 
 me he is dead ?” 
 
 ‘* Rest assured he is dead,” was the answer. 
 
 She laid the tusks in her lap, and thinking that 
 these were the tusks of one who in her former 
 existence had been her dear lord, she was filled 
 with so great a sorrow that she could not bear it ; 
 and then and there her heart broke, and she died 
 the same day. 
 
 In a portion of the painting on the none wall 
 is seen the hunter discharging his arrow, the huge 
 six-tusked elephant lying down, and one hunter 
 engaged in cutting off the six tusks, while another 
 arranges them in a bamboo sling to carry them 
 away. 
 
 100 
 
I Begin my Work in the Caves 
 
 In the upper drawing is shown a herd of ele- 
 phants disporting themselves in the jungle amidst 
 lotus-flowers, asoka and banyan trees, among 
 them being the six-tusked elephant represented 
 much larger than any of the others and white in 
 colour. The body of this elephant is dotted all 
 over with small brown spots, which give a realistic 
 imitation of the texture of the hide. 
 
 In the lower drawing the hunter is seen on the 
 left; he has reached the crest of the golden ridge 
 
 
 
 FROM A WALL PAINTING IN CAVE 10 
 
 and comes upon the huge elephant. Next, to the 
 right, are a king and queen, seated on bamboo 
 stools, most common even to-day in India, sur- 
 rounded by their female attendants and two 
 hunters, one carrying the six tusks hanging in a 
 bamboo sling balanced across his shoulder. The 
 queen at the sight of the tusks turns away and 
 appears stricken with remorse, while the king 
 and her maidens endeavour to console her. 
 Farther to the right, the king and queen are 
 seated on chairs which seem quite modern, and 
 the two hunters with their hands in a suppliant 
 
 101 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 attitude approach them. The king is addressing 
 them, while the queen appears to wish to draw 
 the king’s attention to the pilgrim resting on his 
 long stick on her right. 
 
 In the next scene the queen, seated once more 
 on a circular stool, appears to be still grieving. 
 The king stands in front, consoling her, while her 
 maidens, two standing and one sitting, are lis- 
 tening to their conversation. Behind the queen 
 is a couch or bed in a palace. 
 
 The next scene represents the king anil queen 
 with their maidens walking in the garden. One 
 maiden is picking a fruit from a tree. 
 
 The painting to the right of this is entirely 
 destroyed, but it is believed to have represented 
 the death of the queen with a broken heart. 
 
 This story of the six-tusked elephant has been 
 illustrated on the walls more than once at Ajanta, 
 and in this case these early artists depicted it in 
 narrative fashion, with a certain number of, con- 
 necting links between the various episodes. The 
 paintings here belong to the most primitive 
 school of Buddhist art, and therefore I thought 
 it the best place at which to start copying. 
 
 The ground upon which these early paintings 
 were executed was a very thin white plaster, 
 about the thickness of an egg-shell, on the smooth 
 surface of the rock; it is smoother here than in 
 
 102 
 
I Begin my Work in the Caves 
 
 any other of the caves of this series at Ajanta. 
 Some of them face the open air and are exposed 
 to the action of both sun and rain, and their 
 sombre remains are also covered with innumerable 
 names, dates, stains of varnish and other obstacles 
 to preservation. The paintings on the east side 
 of the octagonal pillars in this first cave, however, 
 though much damaged by weather and scribbles 
 are clearly visible. They represent Buddha 
 standing upright in the act of preaching or of 
 benediction. Some are just over a foot in size, 
 while others are almost as large as life. 
 
 These paintings seem of a much later date than 
 the paintings on the walls, and probably date 
 as late as the fifth or sixth century a.p. The 
 dark sweeping line of the drapery and of the 
 hands, eyes and limbs is very interesting and of a 
 vigorous and advanced technique, but the folds 
 are drawn conventionally. 
 
 Some of these paintings have clearly been 
 painted over the thin surface of fine early paint- 
 ings. The paintings between the ribs of the 
 aisles were also executed at a much later date, 
 probably the third or fourth century 4.p., about 
 the same time as that of the paintings on the 
 pillars. 
 
 But it is curious that about twenty fragments 
 of more modern inscriptions, painted with dark 
 
 103 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 brown or red colour, have been found in this 
 cave, some painted over the older work on the 
 walls, but most of them on the pillars. These 
 inscriptions refer to the figures of Buddha. 
 Now only a few fragments of lettering remain. 
 Probably these figures were painted by the dis- 
 ciples of Buddha or the vikshus. 
 
 
 
 FIGURES FROM THE OLDEST PAINTING IN CAVE 10 
 
 I selected a portion of the frescoes on the left 
 
 wall, which was visible in the daylight, for care- 
 ful inspection, but first took my damp handker- 
 chief and rubbed some of the dust from the sur- 
 face. A miracle happened! Suddenly I saw a 
 fragment of excellent drawing of a long almond 
 shaped eye, a nose and eyebrows and so on, for a 
 
 104 
 
I Begin my Work in the Caves 
 
 few seconds, but as soon as the moisture evapo- 
 rated, the whole picture vanished. 
 
 I chose this piece from the wall to copy, and 
 after having had a good look, I hung a sheet of 
 tracing paper from the top of it, with adhesive 
 beeswax serving as drawing-pins, so that the 
 fresco was not touched. Standing on the step- 
 ladder, I rolled up the tracing paper from the 
 bottom with the left hand, looked at the drawing 
 carefully, and tried to understand all the out- 
 lines bit by bit ; then slowly I unrolled the tracing 
 paper down on the original painting and began to 
 trace. 
 
 By tracing a portion at a time I discovered a 
 most charming picture of a king, queen and 
 princess, and women attendants, who formed 
 part of a procession, two carrying relic caskets 
 and some other object, and one with an umbrella 
 borne over the casket and the king. The royal 
 party are watching the sacred bodhi-tree hung 
 with offerings, while on the other side are wor- 
 shippers. Here also is depicted the hunting of a 
 huge serpent by the side of a forest. Kveryone, 
 from the king to the little boy, is arrayed in 
 jewelled robes, necklaces and arm-bands. The 
 outline everywhere here is very sensitive, but 
 strikingly strong and true; and there is a shy 
 realism throughout, notably in the delicate finger- 
 
 105 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 tips, the speaking eyes and the head and pearl 
 ornaments. All this suggests that the long- 
 forgotten artists of these early dates possessed a 
 freshness of vision and a freedom from conyen- 
 tionality, and indicates that they were perhaps 
 the moderns of their day. 
 
 After the exact tracing was made from the 
 wall, the drawing was first transferred to the 
 painting paper stretched on the drawing board. 
 Afterwards the outlines were accurately copied 
 from the fresco, and then the colour was applied 
 all over the paper like the original painting, 
 and thus the copy was made. I am happy to 
 say that this copy of mine found a home in the 
 British Museum. 
 
 106 
 
‘unasnpy ysyiug ay, fo quampvdag jwjuais() ay) uy 
 ‘OI HAV) 
 
 ‘SLNVGONULLV NHNOM HILIM “SSHONINd GNV ‘NAANO “ONIN V 
 
 
 

 
 INTERIOR VIEW OF CAVE 9, WITH SACRED 
 
 
 
CHAPTER SIX 
 HOW THE CAVES WERE FIRST STARTED 
 
 Wuen the followers of Buddha had actually 
 founded their university by cutting out of the rock 
 a large chaitya, Number 10, other monks began 
 to hear about the institution and came to Ajanta 
 from various parts of India. Their patrons gave 
 big donations, and the second cave was excavated 
 —the second chapel for worship by the side of 
 the mighty temple Number 10. 
 
 This new chaitya is now known as cave 9. 
 In that early period of the Buddhist cult, between 
 200 and 300 B.c., people were more devoted to 
 practical religion than to comfortable living in a 
 bihara. The two graceful chaityas were made 
 and became famous. The little group of Budd- 
 hists, or the Sangha as _ it is called, grew larger 
 every day, and the silent air of the lonely wooded 
 gorge was filled with prayers and chants. 
 
 Though this new temple is only about half the 
 size of the neighbouring chaitya, 10, it is none the 
 less most important. It is the lowest in position 
 on the side of the cliff and the smallest in the 
 series. 
 
 _ Over the front doorway there was cut a spa- 
 
 107 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 cious opening, forming a window about twelve 
 feet high, and admitting light into the interior of 
 the cave. This window, in shape something like 
 a lotus leaf, forms the upper part of the porch 
 upon which it rests, and which separates it from 
 the main entrance. It forms a great contrast to 
 its other and earlier companion, Number 10, which 
 is quite unique, in that the whole of the front is 
 open. 
 
 The fagade of this chaitya is covered with 
 carvings of various Buddhas, stupas and horse- 
 shoe ornaments like that of the window, all of 
 which are still in good condition. Though finely 
 worked, the carvings are quite unobtrusive and 
 in entire harmony with their surroundings. Re- 
 cently the rubbish heaps and debris of broken 
 stones which had accumulated in front of it have 
 been cleared away, and a little stone wall has 
 been made. 
 
 On the left-hand side, in a recess by the window, 
 there is a most charming group of carvings, 
 depicting Buddha, seated, and preaching to the 
 assembled princes and monks, who are standing. 
 This is balanced on the right-hand side by other 
 figures of Buddha, both standing and sitting. 
 All these sculptures were probably added at a 
 later date, perhaps in the fourth or fifth centuries 
 A.D. 
 
 108 
 
How the Caves were First Started 
 
 i 
 
 From the outside it would seem that there had 
 once been a great deal of woodwork in the front, 
 which has all perished, but in the carved orna- 
 ments over the porch and everywhere else there 
 would appear to have been much copying of the 
 wooden structures. In olden days in India, 
 palaces and great houses were as a rule made 
 mainly of wood with huge beams and rafters ; 
 these being unsuited to the extremes of climate, 
 heat, cold and torrential rains, have perished, but 
 still in many parts of the land the Hindus love to 
 live in gorgeously decorated wooden houses, so 
 that these structures were meticulously copied 
 in stone, which style is even now used by Northern 
 Indians for palaces and temples. It is this sort 
 of traditional form which we see exemplified in 
 the chaitya caves 9 and 10, and in others too. 
 
 Though the light enters freely through the 
 spacious window in this chapel, the interior is 
 nevertheless dim. 
 
 This cave measures inside forty-five feet long 
 by twenty-three feet wide, and is twenty-three 
 feet high. Two rows of massive, plain octagonal 
 columns without base or capital, joining in a 
 semicircle at the end, divide the side aisles, and 
 a huge stupa, seven feet in diameter, the chief 
 object of worship in this sanctuary, is set in the 
 rounded apse. The dome-shaped stupa stands 
 
 109 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 on a plain cylindrical base about five feet high, 
 resembling a magician’s crystal. The dome itself 
 is also about five feet high, and supports a carving 
 resembling a reliquary, this having at one time 
 been surmounted by a wooden canopy, now long 
 since perished. 
 
 The side aisles are flat-roofed, and were once 
 covered with decorative paintings of varied 
 designs, of which now hardly a trace remains. 
 In this cave, too, as in Number 10, the pillars are 
 enriched with paintings of standing Buddhas, 
 some of which are exceedingly beautiful. They 
 are nearly as old as those in 10. Buddha, ‘his’ 
 head surrounded by a halo, is shown with dis- 
 ciples, worshippers, kings and queens, and snake 
 kings with cobra hoods, together with traces of 
 early types of buildings, stupas, and triple cano- 
 pies—all most interesting, as depicting the earliest 
 type of Indian life existing in Art. Unfortu- 
 nately, the meaning of many of these paintings 
 has not yet been discovered. The whole of the 
 cave was once covered with a kind of white lime 
 plaster, upon which the paintings were executed. 
 
 These pictures show us the peculiar way in 
 which turbans were worn in those early days. 
 They were interwoven with the wearer’s long 
 black hair and decorated with massive ornaments, 
 and were worn in this way by both men and. 
 
 110 
 
How the Caves were First Started 
 
 women. Perfect illustrations of the costumes and 
 manners of those days are found in large numbers 
 both in this cave and in Number 10. 
 
 The friezes along the tops of the pillars are most 
 interesting. They show great vitality and move- 
 ment, the cowherd running after his bulls, the 
 tiger pursuing the cowherd, all perfect in design 
 and highly finished in colouring; the children 
 
 
 
 HEAD DRAWING (CAVE 10) 
 
 also are drawn very vivaciously. It is a great 
 pity that no more of these marvellous paintings 
 are now left. 
 
 In a great many places the upper layer of paint 
 has fallen off, revealing underneath fragments of 
 much earlier pictures, so it would seem that they 
 have been painted one on the top of another. 
 The reason for this we do not know, which is 
 rather disappointing ; but with careful examina- 
 
 Lil 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 tion we can still find the narratives of the Jataka 
 tales in painting on the walls. | 
 
 Numerous fragments of painted inscriptions— 
 as many as sixteen—have been found in this cave. 
 These, however, were not in a good state of pre- 
 servation, so very little of them can be read, but 
 they are of much later date than the paintings 
 and might be the fifth or sixth century A.D. 
 
CHAPTER SEVEN 
 THE CAVES—CONTINUED 
 
 On either side of the chaityas 9 and 10, on the 
 hillside, were numerous caverns and_ recesses 
 which had been occupied by holy men long before 
 the days of Buddha. Gradually the earlier her- 
 mits died out and were succeeded in their rude 
 cave-dwellings by the Buddhist monks. 
 
 By degrees the natural caves began to provide 
 insufficient shelter for the increasing number of 
 monks, and they started to enlarge the available 
 space by cutting away the rock and made low 
 stone benches and tiny cells all round for the 
 high priests, each cell having two stone beds and 
 a low doorway. 
 
 Very soon reports of the monks’ hardships 
 spread in the cities. The noble and rich people 
 of that date made generous donations and the 
 best professional masons and artists were em- 
 ployed to hew out temples and decorate the 
 interiors with paintings. Out to the gorge came 
 hundreds of craftsmen, labourers and _ artists, 
 with paints, hammers and chisels, borne by pro- 
 cessions of elephants, and a hubbub arose in the 
 depths of the ravine at Ajanta. The simple 
 
 I 1138 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 monks themselves worked hard, side by side 
 with the strangers who had been sent to help 
 them. 
 
 Soon the monks’ rough dwellings were trans- 
 formed into monasteries that were gorgeous in 
 comparison, and were embellished by marvellous 
 paintings on their walls and ceilings. 
 
 These caves of the first group were not all 
 completed at one time, as the monks, who loved 
 peace, could not abide the noisy working men 
 and the clamour of the building operations while 
 they were living in the monasteries. It was only 
 during the two seasons, the hot and the rainy, 
 that the monks did not go out to the villages to 
 preach and to beg their food. In the other more 
 favourable seasons—about eight or nine months 
 in the year—they and their disciples were scat- 
 tered over various parts of the country, and only 
 met together again for about three months. 
 During the hot and wet seasons they were accus- 
 tomed to take shelter at headquarters in these 
 monasteries, to discuss schemes for various works 
 of piety and charity in the next year. 
 
 During their absence as a body for eight or 
 nine months, only a few old and venerable head 
 priests kept charge of the place ; and the excava- 
 tions of the monasteries and temples had a proper 
 chance to progress. 
 
 114 
 
The Caves—Continued 
 
 When two chaityas had been more or less com- 
 pleted, the monks turned their attention to some 
 more of the surrounding caves for their own 
 especial residences. The natural recesses to the 
 right of chaitya 9 and the left of chaitya 10 were 
 dealt with, and workmen were soon busy turning 
 them into habitable places. The caves to the 
 left of chaitya 10 were 11, 12 and 18; and on the 
 right of chaitya 9 were 8 and 7. 
 
 So altogether five biharas, or monastery halls, 
 were properly excavated, three on the left and 
 two on the right of chaityas 9 and 10, forming the 
 first group of seven caves at Ajanta. These were 
 building during the two centuries which preceded 
 the birth of Christ. 
 
 Number 12 1s one of the oldest of the monas- 
 teries. It may be considered to cover a period 
 from about three and a half centuries before the 
 birth of Christ to 200 B.c., and it is probably about 
 the same age as 9 and 10. | 
 
 The front of this cave has fallen away with the 
 baranda, and there now only remains a square 
 hall thirty-eight feet each way, without any 
 pillars or internal supports to the flat roof. 
 
 There are four cells on each of the three inner 
 sides and, inside, eleven double beds and raised 
 pillows to sleep on were cut in stone. There 
 are marks of holes for pivot hinges in the sills — 
 
 115 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 and lintels of the doorway, and others in the 
 jambs for fastenings, which shew that this cave 
 was a large sleeping chamber or dormitory, and 
 that the monks took sufficient precautions to keep 
 out the tigers during the night, by closing the 
 entrance and windows with wooden doors and 
 shutters. 
 
 The upper portion of the walls above the cell 
 doors is beautifully ornamented with the oldest 
 type of canopy, somewhat like a horseshoe in 
 shape, representing the chaitya window. This 
 bihara no doubt was the first of all the early 
 series to be properly finished. 
 
 The monastery is in a very ruined state and 
 there is no trace of painting on the walls or 
 ceiling; also, probably because it was a bihara of 
 a very early type, no sculptures, paintings or 
 images for worship were introduced in it. How- 
 ever, there is a short inscription in three lines to 
 the left of one of the cell doors in the back wall, 
 which reads: “* The meritorious gift of a dwelling 
 with cells and hall by the merchant Ghanama- 
 dada.”’ 
 
 On the immediate left of bihara 12 is another 
 ancient little bihara now known as 18, which 
 also is entirely lacking in paintings. This was 
 originally another natural hole in the hillside, 
 and even now it looks very much like one from 
 
 116 
 
The Caves—Continued 
 
 the outside. Like bihara 12, its front has com- 
 pletely fallen away. It was only a vikshu’s 
 room, or small residence of a holy man who lived 
 here and whose sanctity may have attracted 
 others to the spot. Later on this space was 
 properly excavated into a plain hall, with polished 
 walls but without pillars, of about fourteen feet 
 wide by seventeen feet deep and only seven feet 
 high. It has seven cells with stone beds, as in 
 cave 12. How cool and pleasant it must have 
 been to rest here on those stone beds in the dark 
 during the bright, hot summer afternoons. 
 
 Then comes a very small bihara cave, 8, which 
 must have been a natural cavern from very 
 ancient times. It was built almost immediately 
 on the completion of chaitya 9. 
 
 This monastery is the first one approaches when 
 one mounts the ancient stairs from the stream 
 at the bottom, and is situated at the lowest level 
 in the hill. The whole of the front has fallen 
 away and what remains is nothing but plain, 
 bare rock. The hall is thirty-two feet long, 
 seventeen feet wide, and only ten feet in height. 
 There are two cells at each end and two on each 
 side of the ante-chamber of the shrine. There is a 
 Iow door leading to the dark ante-chamber in 
 which is no image of any kind—nothing but a 
 low stone bench at the back. 
 
 117 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 The largest natural cavern in this series, on 
 the right of cave 8, was also turned into a good 
 bihara, and is now known as 7. On approach- 
 ing this monastery one can see that there are 
 two porches, each supported by octagonal pillars 
 surmounted with lotus-flower capitals, and in 
 spite of its porches being much damaged, it still 
 looks beautiful. It was probably then left more 
 or less incomplete, as in its natural state it was 
 quite large and comfortable, but was finished at 
 a much later date, probably in the third or fourth 
 century A.D. 
 
 The frieze along the front above the cAleanea 
 is carved with miniature chaitya ornamental 
 windows. This cave measures sixty-three feet 
 long by fourteen feet wide, and is only about 
 ten feet high, and has no hall. From its shape 
 it really forms nothing but a very long baranda. 
 On each side of the baranda is a room on a little 
 higher level than the floor, with two pillars in 
 the doorway, and these rooms contain more 
 cells. In the back wall of the baranda are four 
 other cells, apparently excavated as living-rooms 
 for the honourable guests at the university. 
 Right at the back, in the centre of the wall 
 between these cells, is an ante-chamber leading 
 to the shrine, where sits a colossal statue of 
 Buddha Deba, cross-legged, on a lion throne, 
 
 118 
 

 
 BARANDA OF CAVE 7. 
 
oe 
 
 Si eds 
 ‘eee 
 
 : 
 
 
 
 BARANDA OF CAVE 11. 
 
The Caves—Continued 
 
 his right hand raised in the act of blessing. On 
 each side of the door of the sanctuary are eight 
 good sculptures of four Buddhas standing and 
 four worshippers. On. the right and left sides 
 of the shrine are very many good sculptures of 
 Buddhas in rows, about seven in a row, sitting 
 and standing on the lotus, and the leaves between 
 them. The stem of the lowest and central lotus 
 is upheld by two kneeling figures wearing royal 
 headdresses : probably they were the donors of 
 the caves. 
 
 Once also the whole of this temple was covered 
 with beautiful paintings, for during the whole 
 of the day it is well lighted. A good many very 
 faint fragments of paintings still remain on the 
 back wall, but no artist has yet ventured to copy 
 them. 
 
 Much higher up the cliff on the left of chaitya 10 
 was another natural cavern of rather a different 
 type, which was developed into a beautiful resi- 
 dence for the high priests of chaitya 10. This 
 was especially convenient for them, as they would 
 be close to their religious duties. 
 
 This bihara No. 11 is much smaller in size 
 than chaitya No. 10, and might be either exactly 
 contemporary with or a few years later than its 
 companion. 
 
 Its general appearance from outside is quite 
 
 119 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 plain and simple, and in keeping with its neigh- 
 bours of this very early period. Its antiquity 
 is shewn by the rubbed edges of the flight of small 
 steps leading up to it. A peculiar feature of the 
 front of it is the baranda, which shuts it in and 
 makes it cosy. The baranda is supported in 
 front by four octagonal columns with bracket 
 capitals and square bases, raised on a panelled 
 parapet, the roof of the baranda projecting over 
 the pillars. At one time the whole of this cave, 
 both roof and walls, was elaborately painted ; 
 unfortunately, with the exception of a few 
 places in the baranda, these paintings are almost 
 entirely gone. Whatever survived the hand of 
 Nature was obliterated by some modern pretended 
 holy men, who took up their abode in these 
 caves and daubed the walls over with clay and 
 cowdung. 
 
 The doorway leading from the baranda to the 
 interior hall is plainer and less decorative than 
 those of the other biharas of a later date than this 
 series; the steps leading to the hall, however, 
 are adorned with two lions’ heads of good design. 
 On either side of this door is a large, square win- 
 dow, divided by two pillars into three openings ; 
 and so this cave, though small, can receive some 
 light, especially towards afternoon. On the left 
 of the door there has once been a lovely painting 
 
 120 
 
The Caves—Continued 
 
 of a tall, standing Buddha on a bluish-black 
 ground, his robe held gracefully in his left hand. 
 Much of the remaining painting seems to consist of 
 pictures of Buddhas and of the Prince Gautama. 
 By the side of the door is a painting of Prince 
 Gautama holding some lilies in his left hand, 
 and above this are other good figure designs. 
 On the right side also has been a similar figure, 
 but not in such a good state of preservation. 
 
 Above the left window there remain, too, a 
 ereat many paintings of Buddha. Over the 
 right one are plump figures of boys and another 
 group of six Buddhas. 
 
 The inside of the baranda roof, both the inner 
 portion and that projecting outside the pillars, 
 still bears a good deal of painting—the remains 
 ‘of flowers, birds and other decorative designs. 
 
 At either end of the baranda is a cell containing 
 some good bas-relief sculptures depicting seated 
 images of Buddha. One of these latter is placed 
 on a low platform raised above the floor of the 
 cell by two steps. These carvings of Buddhas 
 were probably executed at a slightly later date. 
 
 The inside hall is about thirty-seven feet long 
 by twenty-eight feet wide, with a flat ceiling 
 ten feet high, supported in the centre on four 
 octagonal columns. These columns are of a very 
 early style, and it is probable that this cave was 
 
 121] 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 one of the first examples of the introduction of 
 pillars in the biharas or monastery halls. 
 
 No sooner, however, have you entered the 
 cave than you are driven out. The air inside is 
 thick with the foulest of stenches arising from 
 eenturies of unmolested occupation by bats and 
 owls. That foul odour is the worst enemy of the 
 artist, who cannot possibly concentrate his mind 
 quietly while copying the inside frescoes, even 
 though the whole of the wide front of bihara 
 cave 11 is open. Every quarter of an hour 
 I had to drop my work and come into the fresh 
 air to breathe. This is tragic enough, but in 
 some of the other caves the smell is so horrible 
 that one never wants to venture in. 
 
 Opening into the hall of this cave are eight 
 cells, three on the left, three on the right, and two 
 in the back wall, one on either side of the middle 
 sanctuary. The sanctuary which opens directly 
 from the cave is a room about fifteen feet square. 
 The statue of Buddha is not placed against the 
 wall, but stands at a little distance from it, so that 
 the priests could take the new-comers right round 
 it, or the monks, if they wished, at any hour could 
 encircle it in prayer. Buddha here sits on a 
 throne with two charmingly-carved deer on either 
 side of the round halo of the wheel, and two 
 lions behind them. There are no attendants, 
 
 122 
 
The Caves—Continued 
 
 but above are flying figures. In front of this 
 image of Buddha is a beautiful natural stone 
 carving of a man kneeling in adoration with an 
 offering in his hands: this probably was the 
 portrait of the donor of this cave. 
 
 It is most wonderful that towards the evening 
 the last rays of the sun fall upon the face of 
 Buddha, so that it is lit with divine ecstasy. 
 
 High up on the wall and scarcely visible, on 
 the left side of the sanctuary, is an aperture 
 opening into a secret cell,—a pitch-dark recess, 
 fearful and mysterious, and unique in the whole 
 series of caves at Ajanta. 
 
 123 
 
CHAPTER EIGHT 
 MY SERVANT’S DEATH 
 
 Lonc before the sun rose I used to get up and 
 call the servant, and while he ran to the village 
 to buy eggs and milk for breakfast I would fetch 
 water from the stream and collect wood for a 
 fire. Water had been scarce, but now the mon- 
 soon was coming over the land, and the tiny 
 little river Baghora was getting swifter every day, 
 losing its crystal transparency in a dark muddy 
 torrent. While my servant cooked the breakfast 
 I completed my dressing by winding the puttees 
 round my legs. Well before eight o’clock, having 
 warned Narayan to boil and filter the drinking 
 water, I used to start on the five-mile walk to 
 the caves. 
 
 My morning and evening diversion was to 
 try to discover a shorter track through the undu- 
 lating and very rough ground to and from the 
 caves, and it was not long before I found a few 
 light trails made by the soft hooves of wild 
 cattle and boars, which led there much quicker 
 than the old twisting and winding paths. 
 
 In the dark, evil-smelling caves, by the light 
 of a petrol lamp, I stood the whole day copying the 
 
 124 
 
My Servant’s Death 
 
 frescoes. At noon a boy or man would come 
 with a lunch basket on his head, looking flustered, 
 and lolling his tongue out of his mouth to show 
 how tired the long walk from the village had 
 made him. Almost every day on opening the 
 basket I found that more than half my food had 
 gone; sometimes only a few little bones were 
 lying in the gravy. It was no good saying any- 
 thing to the man, as the answer always was: 
 It has fallen off.’? Padlock or no padlock, the 
 food-bearer always had his share. In despair 
 I asked Narayan to bring my lunch to the caves, 
 but the result was that the poor man had no time 
 to prepare an evening meal for me in the bungalow. 
 
 The chowkidhars, or caretakers of the caves, 
 who came every day from the village of Ajanta, 
 used to leave the caves very early, long before 
 sunset. This puzzled me, until they advised me 
 to leave with them, saying that on several occa- 
 sions tigers had crossed their path, even at 
 twilight. I did not take much notice of this, 
 but worked until it was dark. 
 
 By this time I had made one or two copies of 
 the frescoes and some tracings from the walls, 
 and was now copying a large piece of painting 
 which represented the birth of Buddha on the 
 left wall of cave 2. 
 
 One evening, just as the sun was setting, I 
 
 125 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 was alone in the caves, the chowkidhars having 
 already departed, I at last put out my petrol 
 lamp by which I had been working the whole day, 
 and prepared to leave for the bungalow. Sud- 
 denly I was surprised to see the cave orow gradu- 
 ally brighter and brighter, until very soon it 
 became much brighter than by the artificial 
 lamp-light ; so that I was able to compare com- 
 fortably my copy with the original painting on 
 the wall, and criticise the colours which look 
 different by artificial light. Greatly astonished, 
 I walked round the cave, seeing clearly each fresco 
 on the walls, until the cave sunk into darkness. 
 
 The next day I waited to see whether this phe- 
 nomenon would be repeated, and about the same 
 time as the evening before the whole cave lit up 
 for a very brief while and then darkened. The 
 reason for this is that towards evening the last 
 rays of the descending sun are reflected on the 
 ground in front of the caves and also on the hills 
 opposite. The idea occurred to me to dispose 
 sheets of paper where they might reflect sunlight 
 into the dark cave and on to the frescoed walls. 
 Thus I saved my petrol lamp. 
 
 The monsoon broke, and the river issuing 
 from the caves grew sometimes into an impas- 
 sable, roaring torrent, and one morning was so 
 swollen that it was impossible to reach the caves, 
 
 126 
 
My Servant’s Death 
 
 and I had to return to the bungalow and remain 
 there for three days. Narayan and I planned 
 after a long discussion to move to the caves and 
 live there, renewing our store of food once a 
 week from the bazaar at Vakod. As soon as 
 the rain stopped a little and the torrent grew 
 quiet, we packed up and left the bungalow and 
 came to settle in cave 7, which had once been 
 the home of Buddhist monks. Here I felt happy ; 
 I had more time to do my work. 
 
 Now in the heavy monsoon the waterfall by 
 the extreme western caves became big and 
 thundering, and all day and night I could hear 
 it pouring and pouring. Mists and clouds passed 
 over the hills and clung to their tops, and shivered 
 through the thick green trees; but sometimes, 
 like magic a lovely deep blue sky would appear 
 between the two hill slopes, and the golden rays 
 of the morning sun shone on the leaves in the 
 forest and reflected like little mirrors. The pea- 
 cocks screamed and strutted and the whole 
 forest and scene became wonderful. Monkeys, 
 porcupines and mongooses passed by the stream 
 and even snakes swam in the water. Frogs of all 
 kinds were always leaping about. The silence 
 of the dark night was broken by their loud croak- 
 ing and the noisy murmur of trees swaying with 
 the wind. 
 
 127 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 I was wrapped in a sort of artistic ecstasy, 
 interested in the wonderful old pictures, living 
 in the atmosphere created by the ancient Budd- 
 hists who founded their monasteries and per- 
 formed their religious works on this extraordinary 
 site. But poor Narayan began to change. He 
 was getting tired of living alone. He hardly 
 talked or smiled. During the whole week he 
 looked forward to the bazaar day at Vakod, and 
 when it came he smiled, put on his clean turban 
 and best clothes, took the money and started off 
 very early. At night he returned with a little leg 
 of mutton, rice, lentils and a few vegetables, 
 onions and occasionally potatoes, and we en- 
 joyed ourselves the same night and next day 
 thoroughly ; the meat could not be kept after 
 that. 
 
 Narayan looked so sad, and soon I failed to 
 make him smile, and he began to ask me: “Sahib, 
 when shall we finish here? How long will your 
 work take ? Aren’t we going home soon ?” 
 
 Life was becoming very lonely and difficult 
 for him. One day he took money, went to the 
 bazaar, and did not come back to the caves for 
 three days, while I starved on barley water. 
 When he did arrive he was in a bad state—no 
 clothes, no turban, no food, no money! I was 
 horrified to find him like this. He said very 
 
 128 
 
My Servant’s Death 
 
 quietly, bowing his head: “Everything was 
 stolen from me!” Jt was no good scolding him, 
 for he might have run away from me altogether. 
 Then he pressed me to let us go back to the bun- 
 galow at the village of Fardapur now that the 
 monsoon was over. Finally he prevailed and 
 we moved back there again. 
 
 Now the heavy downpour of rain had almost 
 come to.an end, and the sun began to shine 
 brightly and as hot as ever. The moist, warm 
 vapour rose from the earth and there ensued an 
 unhealthy season. The road was knee-deep in 
 clay and mud. The heaps of rubbish and cow- 
 dung around the houses and everywhere in the 
 river became thick and muddy. Finally cholera 
 broke out all round the villages and, at last, in 
 Fardapur itself. 
 
 One morning, after breakfast, as I was leaving 
 for my day’s work at the caves, Narayan came to 
 me, saying: ‘Sahib, there is cholera in the 
 village.” I strictly enjoined him not to go there, 
 and once more emphasised my orders that he 
 was on no account to neglect the boiling and 
 filtering of the water. 
 
 That night when I returned from my day’s 
 work, I found to my amazement a gorgeous wel- 
 come. The bath water was hot, the drinking 
 water in the filter was full, the supper was pre- 
 
 K 129 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 pared, with home-made rolls and scones, and 
 not only special chops, but also a plate full of 
 pudding with cream and custard. Having en- 
 joyed this unexpected comfort, I became aware | 
 of Narayan hovering nervously in the background. 
 He was evidently very uneasy about something, 
 but he could not make up his mind to speak. 
 At last: “ Sahib,” he said in a very weak voice, 
 as he stood behind me, “I don’t feel well.’ 
 My suspicions were roused. 
 
 There had been cases of cholera in the village, 
 and I had forbidden him to go near it. He had 
 disobeyed me! I felt uneasy myself lest he might 
 be sickening of that dread disease. He was cer- 
 tainly very ill. He brought his blanket and 
 wrapping himself in its folds, lay down on the 
 ground by my side. I opened my medicine chest, 
 for now I felt sure it was cholera, and gave him a 
 dose of the remedy I had brought.with me. But 
 alas, it was too late. He was past human aid, 
 yet I struggled and fought for his life all that 
 night alone in the bungalow. He sank very 
 rapidly, became unconscious, and as the morning 
 dawned he passed away. 
 
 I was left alone with the corpse of this poor man, 
 and not a soul would come near, for the very 
 word cholera was enough to make the villagers 
 flee the place. But it was essential that he 
 
 130 
 
My Servant’s Death 
 
 should be buried decently and with the kind help 
 of the Patel Sahib of Fardapur, together with 
 wholesale bribery and money for drinks, I pre- 
 vailed on several of the stouter of the villagers to 
 dig a grave. Wrapped in clean white muslin 
 and his blanket we laid him to rest in the shadow 
 of the great rocks near the sandy banks of the 
 Baghora river. 
 
 That evening seemed to me too terrible. The 
 blood-red sun as usual went down beyond the 
 deep-blue Bindhya Tange, casting long, gloomy 
 shadows everywhere. The air was stifling, 
 drowsy and still. I felt sad and lonely. 
 
 I came back to the bungalow and realised that 
 neither food, water nor even the place was safe 
 to touch. The same night I went away for a few 
 days’ change of air to my friend’s, Professor 
 J. B. Raju at Nagpur, intending to bring back 
 a servant with me. Many came, but as soon as 
 _ they heard they would have to Stay in the jungle 
 they did not wish to remain. One of the younger 
 Servants agreed, however, but I did not employ 
 him lest he should make the same mistake as 
 Narayan, going too much to the village for 
 companionship and drink and thereby catching 
 the deadly diseases of cholera or plague. } 
 
 Then in Nagpur one afternoon, while I was 
 smoking away in an armchair and thinking about 
 
 131 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 returning to the caves, there approached a tall 
 old man with a big grey moustache, dressed in a 
 clean white coat, turban and trousers, who gave 
 me a salute and held out a bundle of old letters. 
 These testimonials showed that he had served 
 many of the high officials and had been head cook 
 to the Chief Commissioner of Nagpur. 
 
 Then he said, ‘‘ I am too old, nobody gives me 
 work. Sahib, give me some bakshish.”’ I rather 
 liked his look and explained all about my sojourn 
 in the jungles of Ajanta, and asked him whether 
 he would like to come to cook for me on very good 
 pay. He said eagerly, assuring me: “ Yes, sir, 
 I know all about those jungle places; I shall 
 look after you like a father.” 
 
 So once again I returned to the bungalow, 
 feeling cheerful at having secured such a treasure 
 and thinking that old Dhandu would see to my 
 physical needs and I should be able to devote 
 myself entirely to work in the caves. 
 
 By this time the bungalow had been properly 
 washed and made habitable. Now, with renewed 
 vigour I began to copy frescoes in the caves. 
 
 For a day or two Dhandu cooked well; but 
 after a little while began to neglect first one 
 thing then another. He appeared to find the 
 situation less agreeable than he had hoped. 
 Grumbling at me, he said: ‘ No water, no sauce- 
 
 152 
 
My Servant’s Death 
 
 pans, no coal, no gas, no nothing here.’ How 
 was it likely that he could produce a dinner in 
 such a place! His manner changed rapidly from 
 bad to worse; he grew more and more sullen ; 
 at last he forgot to answer my call; in fact even 
 breakfast was impossible to get. 
 
 He gathered round him in the kitchen a group 
 of young villagers and bought them cigarettes, 
 gave them my food and began to sell my things 
 in return for their help while he lay all the time 
 in a cot inside the kitchen. Whenever I called 
 he sent a village man to me to say: ‘“ He can’t 
 move, as he has rheumatism all over his body.”’ 
 
 One day I went to see whether this tale was 
 true. Apprised of my arrival, he pretended to be 
 ill of cholera, took a mouthful of water before I 
 entered the kitchen and vomited in front of me 
 as soon as I appeared, saying: “Sahib, I am 
 dying ; do please send me home from this jungle.” 
 I felt sorry and disgusted to have chosen a man 
 like him and, thinking he was more hindrance than 
 help to my work, I decided to put up with him no 
 longer; and so I paid his wages and he took a 
 hasty departure, comfortably seated in a bullock 
 cart. | | 
 I went to Patel Sahib at Fardapur. He had 
 been kind to me on several former occasions, and 
 he it was who had found men to bury poor Nara- 
 
 133 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 yan. By his influence, but with great difficulty, I 
 at last managed to get a middle-aged Mussulman 
 named Buddhu Miya as a cook from the village of 
 Ajanta, at least he called himself a cook, though 
 he knew hardly anything about his job. How- 
 ever, I closed with him for a good wage and he 
 stayed with me to the end. 
 
 Once, however, I narrowly escaped losing him. 
 I returned hungrier than usual to find a meal of 
 only rice and lentils nasty and hard, impossible 
 to eat, through not being boiled properly. In 
 my annoyance I called him a pig, which upset him 
 considerably. ‘“‘ Sahib,” he said, “ take off your 
 shoes and beat me, but do not call me a pig.” 
 I replied: ‘“ If you do not boil my food properly 
 I shall call you a pig,” and thereafter he worked 
 well. 
 
 Then by tact and a little present of money I 
 mollified him, and a little later suggested that as 
 he had to bring my food to the caves every day, 
 leaving almost no time to cook an evening meal, 
 we should inhabit the caves and so save our 
 tedious and uncomfortable journey to and from 
 the side of the cliff. 
 
 We therefore got hold of some men and a bul- 
 lock cart from the village, and carrying our 
 belongings once again we all moved on to the 
 caves for a very long stay. 
 
 134 
 
CHAPTER NINE 
 I MOVE INTO THE CAVES 
 
 I now lived and slept in the baranda of cave 7, 
 and Buddhu Miya cooked for me outside, so that 
 neither smoke nor fire could harm the walls or 
 ceilings. We thus entered upon a life of interest 
 and excitement which lasted for many months. 
 In the course of centuries various other caves 
 which fall into the second group of six, and are 
 numbered 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, were excavated 
 on the left side of the cliff. These excavations 
 extended in point of time from about the birth of 
 Christ to the fifth or sixth century 4.pD., at which 
 date they were properly finished; the archi- 
 tectural designs and inscriptions prove their date 
 to be much later than the first group of caves. 
 High up in the rock, almost directly over cave 
 13 of the first group, is a large unfinished bihara, 
 Number 14, which is approached by a steep 
 ascent from bihara 12. This cave has no paint- 
 ing or sculpture, and probably was excavated 
 somewhere about 100 a.p. The baranda is of 
 rather vast proportions, as it measures about 
 sixty-three feet by eleven feet wide and nine feet 
 high, and has six square pillars plainly decorated. 
 
 135 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 We do not know the real reason why the hall was 
 never finished and the front aisle only was par- 
 tially cut out, about twelve feet, but we may con- 
 jecture that this was probably due to the softer 
 character of the rock, which rendered it more 
 liable to crack. At each end of the baranda are 
 unfinished guest-chambers which give cool shelter. 
 Besides these a very neat central door and two 
 windows on either side were cut. 
 
 Next on the left of bihara 14, much lower 
 down in the cliff, is a small plain bihara cave, 15. 
 In the rainy season a torrent from above pours 
 down, sometimes making access impossible. Pro- 
 bably for the same reason the pillars of this cave 
 have broken away. The baranda is thirty feet 
 long, six feet wide and about ten feet high, and 
 there is one cell at each end. On either side of 
 the doorway are wonderfully good sculptures and 
 low reliefs. The hall is almost thirty-four feet 
 square and ten feet high, without columns. At 
 each side are four cells. Just opposite the main 
 entrance is a sanctuary, and on the shrine is a 
 stone image of Buddha, which was carved out 
 from the solid rock probably a little later than 
 the cave. It is one of the first examples of the 
 placing of an image of Buddha in a monastery 
 hall; and the age of the image may be assumed to 
 be about 200 a.p. Evidently this cave was once 
 
 136 
 
I Move into the Caves 
 
 fully covered with paintings, for traces still 
 remain on the ceiling. 
 
 On the left, again, is cave 16, one of the most 
 important cave-temples of Buddhist India in 
 this group. Even to-day, as one approaches 
 this cave and its neighbour, 17, from the bot- 
 tom of the ravine, one catches a glimpse of 
 the golden-red frescoes within. One finds there 
 the most astonishing paintings in the world for 
 so early a date as the second or third century a.D. 
 The style of architecture, carving and painting 
 is graceful and elegant. ‘These caves are situated 
 at a slightly ereater height above the bottom of 
 the ravine than the caves of the first period. It 
 is interesting to observe how cleverly the archi- 
 tects of those days followed the vein of the rock 
 where the texture was most suitable for excavation. 
 
 The large baranda of cave 16 is sixty-five 
 feet long and twelve feet wide. Six plain octa- 
 gonal columns with bracket columns support the 
 roof. The main entrance has two windows on 
 each side, and here the wall is carved with river 
 goddesses, but the paintings have perished. 
 One cell leads from each end of the baranda. 
 The ceiling of this cave is extensively ornamented 
 with beautiful painting, a great part of which 
 has unfortunately been destroyed. 
 
 High up in the corner at the left end of the 
 
 137 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 baranda is an inscription of a great many lines, 
 mutilated by the weather. The full meaning of 
 the inscription has not hitherto been deciphered, 
 but one can roughly make out the meaning of 
 the opening sentence: “ A king salutes first the 
 renowned Buddha, who removed the intense fire 
 of misery from this world.’’ And then it goes on 
 to mention names of many other kings and of 
 their dwellings. 
 
 The hall is about sixty-five feet square and 
 fifteen feet high, which is higher than those of 
 the first group. Here as many as twenty octa- 
 gonal pillars support the ceiling, and their sides 
 were once painted with wreaths of flowers and 
 other designs. The ceiling 1s gorgeously carved, 
 representing beams and rafters, the higher ends 
 being supported by brackets in the shape of 
 plump and almost dwarf-like boys. This is 
 peculiar to, and common in, the Ajanta sculpture 
 and painting. Wherever the artist found a 
 chance he introduced such figures. Six cells 
 lead from each side of the interior hall and two 
 are in the back wall. Directly beyond the main 
 entrance in the shrine there is seated a gigantic 
 statue of Buddha on a stone throne, with both 
 legs stretched downwards and the hands raised 
 in the teaching position. Just asin bihara No. 11 
 of the first group, so here also a narrow passage 
 
 138 
 
I Move into the Caves 
 
 encircles the great image to enable the pilgrims 
 or priests to walk with devotion round the 
 Buddha. This was, no doubt, a residence for 
 one of the big Sangha. 
 
 In the hall a great many masterpieces of paint- 
 ing still exist on the walls. But they were 
 foolishly varnished by British officials, and are 
 
 
 
My Pilgrvmages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 now almost ruined, so that one can hardly make | 
 them out. On the left wall in the hall is a won- 
 derful painting of a dying princess, which can 
 hardly be surpassed in the history of the world’s 
 art and on the same wall there are many other 
 very good paintings-—for instance, Buddha with 
 his mendicant’s bowl, teaching in a bihara, sur- 
 rounded by kings and rich people, who kneel and 
 pay him reverence. Again, on the back wall, is a 
 very large scene of elephants ridden by kings 
 among attendants with drums and musical in- 
 struments, and soldiers with long blue curved 
 swords. In another scene Buddha Deba is 
 seated on a throne, teaching a great assembly of 
 crowned princes and other people. On the right 
 . were several other interesting paintings from the 
 legend of Buddha, such as Saint Asita-muni with 
 the infant Buddha in his arms and lap, and he is" 
 again represented as a young Sidhartha at school 
 drawing the bow and learning sports. It breaks 
 one’s heart to see these marvellous pictures 
 ruined through the application of varnish by 
 thoughtless people who came to copy them. 
 
 One evening a number of monkeys appeared 
 in front of the cave where I was dwelling, in 
 search of those wild berries which we call “ kul.” 
 They are much like sour cherries with a little 
 hard stone inside. 
 
 140 
 

 
 NCESS 
 
 THE DYING PRI 
 
 CAVE 16 
 

 
 Sat ee 5 ee ae ae ‘ hosted * 
 THE KING OF BENARES HONOURING THE GOLDEN GEESE. 
 (Giniaw v7 
 
 By permission of the India Society. 
 
I Move into the Caves 
 
 I wanted to get rid of these uninvited guests 
 for fear lest they should try to spend the night 
 in my cave, and so to make them move on I 
 threw a few stones. They began to slip off, but 
 some clung to the trees or jumped from branch 
 to branch. To make quite sure of getting rid of 
 them I followed with a rod in my hand, broken 
 from a branch. Suddenly some of the monkeys 
 disappeared as if by magic. I investigated and 
 found they had gone down some old stone steps 
 towards the stream. In the jungle, of course, 
 
 
 
 A NAGA-KING 
 
 141 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 there are no roads and one never knows to what 
 one is coming. 
 
 In front of cave 16 I found myself in a sort 
 of broken room. By its side was a little watering- 
 place like a small tank or well, where there was 
 still water, and there was in the chamber a 
 damaged statue of a snake king, seated upon the 
 coils of the snake, whose five hoods, like a canopy, 
 overshadow the king’s crown. 
 
 I descended the steps. All I could see above 
 and in front of me was the jungle and trees. Some 
 of the monkeys were sitting on top of these trees, 
 grinning at me as I went down and down towards 
 the little stream at the bottom. Suddenly I 
 came to what looked like two very huge pieces 
 of rock, but they were two large elephants of dark 
 stone, almost life-size. I recognised them at 
 once. They were the two famous elephants at 
 the great ancient stairway leading to the Budd- 
 hist monastery, mentioned in a book over a 
 thousand years old, written by one of the great 
 Chinese pilgrims of the sixth century A.D. 
 
 Next to cave 16 is cave 17, another very fine 
 bihara of the second group of caves. It looks 
 as if it might be a twin cave of 16, for in size, 
 exterior architectural appearance and the import- 
 ance of its series of paintings it is very similar. 
 As one approaches this cave one can see far off 
 
 142 
 
I Move into the Caves 
 
 through the trees the glowing red and golden 
 colours of its frescoes. The date of its excava- 
 tion cannot be more than fifty years later, or it 
 might be even the same age. 
 
 There is a long inscription on the left-hand top 
 of the baranda outside, of about twenty-nine 
 lines, in early Sanskrit verse. It would seem 
 from this inscription, and that in cave 16, that 
 both caves must have been built during or soon 
 after the lifetime of the great Gupta emperor, 
 about 875 to 418 a.p. At the right end there is a 
 small hole in the floor leading to a fine cistern 
 always filled with water, formerly used by the 
 monks as drinking water; it can only be ap- 
 proached up a flight of steps between this cave 
 and 16. No doubt in olden days this hole, for 
 safety, was covered over by a wooden lid, as 
 can be seen by the ledge cut inside the aperture 
 on which the lid used to rest. 
 
 There are two cells in the baranda. At the 
 left end over the cell there is a circular piece of 
 painting divided into eight compartments, repre- 
 senting the Buddhist wheel of life. This has 
 been much injured by the visitors, who attempted 
 to remove parts of the paintings from the wall. 
 The compartments have been filled with human 
 figures, variously employed, men, women, ani- 
 
 143 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 mals, utensils, buildings, streets, all representing 
 the circle of existence. | 
 
 As regards more than two-thirds of the lower 
 part of the baranda, no vestiges of frescoes remain, 
 but on the upper part of the back wall is a good 
 deal of painting in fragments. Over the central 
 door is a lovely row of eight Buddhas, seated 
 
 
 
 PAINTING OVER THE DOOR OF CAVE 17 
 
 cross-legged in different moods, the hands up- 
 lifted in the act of teaching or benediction, one 
 with a royal crown. Below on the lintel is a 
 series of eight small panel designs in compart- 
 ments containing two figures each, lovers offering 
 flowers and drink to one another, some figures 
 painted with fair and some with dark complexions. 
 
 Above the door into the hall in this cave 17 
 are two very attractive carved female figures, 
 but all the space in the caves was once most 
 elaborately covered with paintings. The pillars 
 
 144 
 

 
 ANDA. 
 
 EILING OF BAR 
 
 Cc 
 
 + 
 je 
 
 CAVE I 
 
GROUP OF MUSICIANS PASSING THROUGH THE AIR. 
 
 CAVE 17. 
 
 
 
I Move into the Caves 
 
 of the baranda are plain octagon bracket capitals, 
 but the bases are more elegant than usual. 
 
 To the left of the baranda is a group of three 
 fairies, accompanied by a male figure floating 
 through the air in the night. Behind the figures 
 are thick white clouds. Such flying figures are 
 very usually found in pairs in Buddhist sculptures 
 and in the paintings of this age. The whole 
 composition is perfect. In its purity of outline 
 and the elegance of its grouping it is one of the 
 finest and most fascinating of the smaller paint- 
 ings at Ajanta. The easy upward motion of the 
 whole group is rendered in a manner that could 
 not easily be surpassed. 
 
 To the right of the baranda wall, just on top of | 
 the window space, is the scene in which Buddha’s 
 cousin, Debadatta, tries to get Buddha destroyed 
 by an enraged elephant, but the huge creature 
 kneels with reverence at Buddha’s feet. The 
 ceiling is very beautifully adorned with charming 
 designs in good condition. On the whole this 
 cave contains more paintings than any other cave, 
 - in spite of the fact that even here there has been 
 much wilful destruction at the hands of European 
 visitors. 
 
 The hall is entered by a central door, resem- 
 bling that in 16, and by two side doors. It is 
 further lighted by two windows. This apartment 
 
 L 145 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 is sixty-three feet wide by sixty-two feet long 
 and thirteen feet high, its roof being supported by 
 twenty octagonal pillars, all plain, except the two 
 in the middle of the front and back rows, which 
 have square bases, shafts partly octagonal and 
 partly sixteen-sided, covered with paintings. 
 The ante-chamber is small, with two figures in 
 front, but the shrine is eighteen feet wide by 
 twenty feet deep, and in front of the great 
 image there stand on the floor, two figures one 
 holding a mendicant’s bowl, the other damaged. 
 There are also two attendants on each side of the 
 Buddha and two fan-bearers. The hall contains 
 sixteen cells. The whole interior is similar to that 
 of Number 16. Here again the roof shows the 
 wooden construction, and the pillars which abe 
 port it have fat boys as brackets. | 
 
 In the hall, on the wall of the left aisle, on the 
 left end of the back wall, and everywhere, many 
 wonderful paintings are still in existence, in spite 
 of being much ruined with smoke, dirt and var- 
 nish. There are over sixty distinct scenes of 
 subject painting in this cave 17. 
 
 On the middle of the right wall is a large at 
 marvellous painting. It represents the legend of 
 the landing of King Bijaya on Ceylon, and his 
 conquest of the island. 
 
 In the left-hand corner a procession of elephants 
 
 146 
 

 
 THE CAPTURE OF THE ELEPHANTS. 
 CAVE 17. 
 
 
 
 THE BODHISATVA AS A SIX-TUSKED ELEPHANT. 
 CAVES IZ: 
 
 By permission of the India Society. 
 

 
 LANDING AND CORONATION OF KING BIJAYA IN CEYLON. 
 
 CAVE 17. 
 
I Move into the Caves 
 
 1s rushing through the gate; the cavalry and war 
 elephants are crossing the Indian Ocean in boats ; 
 and on the shore are the demons, giant natiees 
 of Ceylon, preventing their landing. It is a 
 narrative composition, but the whole subject is 
 told in one picture. 
 
 In the upper part appears the white horse, sig- 
 nifying that the king has now conquered the whole 
 land. From very ancient times it was the custom 
 that before the coronation of a great king took 
 place a riderless white horse should be let loose 
 over the country, followed by hundreds of soldiers, 
 and if any other king desired to challenge the 
 king’s right of subjection and objected to the 
 passing of the horse through his land, he tried to 
 capture the horse. But if the horse returned un- 
 challenged, it proved the king to be the acknow- 
 ledged ruler of the land, and he was then crowned. 
 
 In this painting the unchallenged horse has 
 come back and looks proudly toward the king, 
 while the soldiers bow. The coronation is taking 
 place in the right-hand corner, where is the king 
 _ surrounded by beautiful dancing girls and musi- 
 cians, and the parijata flowers are falling from 
 above as a blessing from the gods in heaven. 
 
 Although this painting represents so many 
 scenes, they have been grouped together to form 
 one lovely picture. 
 
 147 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 The slanting spears, the waving flags, the for- 
 ward lean of the elephant-riders and the curved 
 heads and huddled trunks of the elephants all 
 express the emotion of great movement. The 
 fight outside the city is divided from the triumphal 
 entry and the coronation by a suggestion of a 
 rampart. The flowers from heaven fall only on 
 the inner side of the rampart. The oars of the 
 boat are directed one way only, in order to 
 emphasize the great speed at which the boat is 
 being driven through the water. On the left 
 of the shrine door in this cave 17 is another 
 painting of pre-eminent beauty and grandeur. 
 The subject of the composition seems to be 
 the return of Buddha after his enlightenment, 
 to his wife and son, Rahula. His _ glorified 
 figure towers colossal against a night sky, and his 
 feet rest on a white lotus on a deep Indian red 
 eround. In his right hand is a begging bowl and 
 his left hand uplifts his yellow robe. Over him 
 an angel holds a canopy of flowers, and parijata 
 flowers also fall upon him from heaven, while his 
 wife and child on a balcony of the house, look up 
 in adoration. 
 
 This painting must be one of the most majestic 
 and tender in the world, showing intense love 
 and spiritual devotion, and to many will be a 
 revelation of the heights to which Indian art has 
 
 148 
 

 
 A HUNTING SCE 
 CAVE 17. 
 
 
 
 By permission of the India Society. 
 

 
 AVE 19. 
 
 ADE OF C 
 
 FAC 
 
st Move into the Caves 
 
 attained. Like many others, it shows what 
 masters of animated composition and complex 
 movement were those painters who worked in 
 the early centuries. 
 
 There are hundreds of painted scenes in every 
 part of this monastery hall, and they are of great 
 interest. One of special power depicts a hunt 
 of lions, black buck, and elephants. The colouring 
 is vivid, and the foliage and lotus leaves are 
 painted with a rich green. The whole posing 
 and grouping has an air of modernity. The 
 animals, horses, elephants, dogs, are all extremely 
 well-drawn, the massive colours and contours 
 painted with solid brush strokes. 
 
 Then comes cave 18, which is really no more 
 than a porch, just over ninteen feet by about 
 nine feet, and has two pillars. Apparently it 
 was intended for a passage to the next cave, 
 19, and possibly to cover a water cistern down 
 below. It was excavated about the same time 
 as 17. | | 
 
 At that date hundreds of monks had gathered 
 together; and, with their morning and evening 
 prayer, made the gorge as noisy asa bazaar. They 
 needed another chaitya cave for their worship and 
 so made the temple now known as Number 19 to 
 serve as the third chaitya; it is much smaller 
 than cave 10, and almost the same size as 9, 
 
 149 
 
My Esgiengges to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 of the first group. So 19 was excavated, the only 
 chaitya cave in the second group. 
 
 It is about twenty-four feet wide by forty-six 
 feet long by twenty-four feet high, and it is 
 elaborately carved with sculptures and orna- 
 mental decorative designs, both inside and out, 
 and they remain as distinct at 
 the present day as when they 
 were first wrought. There is 
 only one entrance to this cave. 
 
 The whole of the composi- 
 tion of this cave is very pleas- 
 ing, and it has scarcely suffered 
 at all from the, hand of time. 
 The decorative carving in front 
 is very elaborate, and consists of 
 PLAN OF CAVE 19 Buddhas and additional images 
 
 afterwards carved on_ the 
 fagade. From the facade of this chaitya temple 
 projects a bold and carefully carved cornice, 
 broken only at the left end by the fall of a heavy 
 mass of rock. In front has been an enclosed 
 court, thirty-three feet wide by thirty feet 
 deep, but the left side of it has nearly dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 On the right of the main entrance by the soe: 
 is a bas-relief sculpture of a colossal Buddha, who 
 has returned home after his Enlightenment. 
 
 
 
 150 
 
AN ALCOVE FOR REPOSE. 
 
 
 
 ROOF ABOVE TRIFORIUM. 
 
 
 
 TRIFORIUM OF CHAITYA 
 
 
 
 LOWER PART OF FACADE. 
 
 
 

 
 A CAPITAL IN THE BARANDA. 
 CAVE 24. 
 
 
 
 THE RIGHT SIDE OF THE NAVE. 
 CAVE 19. 
 
I Move into the Caves 
 
 His wife is lifting forward her son Rahula to 
 place alms in his father’s begging bowl. 
 
 In the next compartment he is standing in 
 front of a stupa richly ornamented and _ sur- 
 mounted by the triple umbrella. Above, on the 
 upper right-hand corner, he is represented again 
 in the most usual standing attitude, preaching, 
 his right hand hanging down, his left raised. 
 Probably these sculptures are of a later date. 
 
 There are many Buddhas sitting cross-legged, 
 and standing in the usual attitude of exposition. 
 
 The whole of the front of this cave is fully - 
 covered with sculptured groups and with most 
 elaborate ornamentation, still in very good pre- 
 servation. The great arched window above the 
 porch shows the wooden forms of the ribs. The 
 stone imitation of wooden structure is very 
 prominent in this cave, and the rafters and beams 
 were carefully hewn out in the ceilings. At the 
 right angle of the main facade is a place of repose 
 for pilgrims or attendants. The room is small in 
 size, the capitals of the pillars are richly carved 
 with mango branches and clusters of grapes in the 
 middle. 
 
 Opposite to the rest-house is a great sculpture 
 of a snake king, who probably was a strong sup- 
 porter of Buddhism, seated under a canopy of a 
 seven-hooded cobra snake, with his queen by his 
 
 151 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 side. In her left hand she holds a lotus flower. 
 On the right a female attendant was carved with a 
 fly-fan in her hand. 
 
 On each side of the great arch window is a male 
 figure in halo and rich head-dress; that on the 
 left holds a bag and represents the God of Wealth ; 
 a tiny child counting the money at so early an 
 age seems to be already following in the father’s 
 footsteps. 
 
 Inside, in the nave, there are fifteen columns 
 about fifteen feet high. At the square bases of 
 these pillars are some small figures on the corners. 
 These pillars support a bracket capital, each 
 richly sculptured with a sitting Buddha in the 
 centre, and elephants, or two riders, or tigers, or 
 flying figures on the brackets. Elaborate sculp- 
 tures over the capitals give great richness of effect 
 to the interior of this cave. They appear to be 
 symbolic of Buddhism, and each composition is 
 a legend. | 
 
 The whole of the interior was once covered with 
 a thin coating of white plaster, so as to hide the 
 surface of the rock entirely ; but in spite of this 
 the sculptors worked with great pains to produce 
 elaborate carving. There is not much variety 
 in the sculptures of the triforium belt itself. 
 These consist of alternate sitting or standing 
 figures of Buddha, the sitting ones all cross- 
 
 152 
 

 
 é : ee a E ees 
 A NAGA-KING, QUEEN, AND ATTENDANT. 
 CAVE IQ. 
 

 
 INTERIOR OF CAVE 10. 
 
I Move wto the Caves 
 
 legged,—the only variety being in the position of 
 
 the hands, every different attitude of which has 
 an important meaning attached to it. Between 
 each of these seated Buddhas stands a figure in 
 the usual attitude of exposition, and the attitude 
 in all is very nearly the same, and yet no two 
 figures are exactly alike. 
 
 A great dome rises eight feet. Its ribs are 
 made of stone, and between every fourth and 
 fifth rib is carved a tiger’s head. A most gor- 
 geously wrought stupa stands opposite the main 
 door, which has a bas-relief of a standing Buddha, 
 and on the top of the stupa are three umbrellas 
 in stone one above the other. 
 
 The roof of the aisle is flat and has been painted 
 with ornamental flower scrolls, Buddhas and 
 stupas, and on the walls have been paintings of 
 Buddha as well as attendants, the upper two 
 rows sitting and the third mostly standing, 
 showing halos behind the heads. 
 
 The arrangement for the lighting of the interior 
 of this cave is simply wonderful. The daylight 
 introduced through one great opening in the 
 facade throws a brilliant light on the altar, the 
 principal object, and also upon the capitals of 
 the pillars, exactly where it is most wanted. The 
 spectator himself stands in the shade. The 
 light on the floor is subdued and the roof and the 
 
 153 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 aisles fade into comparative gloom. The porch 
 at the back of the court under the great arched 
 windows still stands. The five pillars on each 
 side of the nave separate the aisle from it, and five 
 more run round the stupa. , 
 
 This cave contains many painted Buddhas in 
 the aisles, and a few others with figures of chaityas 
 still remain on the roof. The roof of the front 
 aisle contains some exquisite panels, and those 
 of the side aisles are painted in a rich floriated 
 pattern. 
 
 Temple 19 at Ajanta remains one of the great 
 architectural triumphs of the world. The next 
 cave, 20, is a small bihara, or monastery, with two 
 gorgeously carved columns in front of the 
 baranda. They have brackets attached to their 
 capitals, and there is a charming statuette of a 
 woman under a canopy of foliage. The sculp- 
 tures of these is bold and free, much resembling 
 those in cave 19. The sides of the steps to the 
 baranda level are carved with beautiful decorative 
 designs of river snakes, known as maharas. The 
 ceiling of the baranda is hewn in imitation of 
 wooden beams and rafters which remind one of 
 caves 16 and 17. At each end of the baranda is 
 a cell. 
 
 The hall has no columns. The size is twenty- 
 
 154 
 
I Move into the Caves 
 
 eight feet wide, twenty-six feet long and about 
 thirteen feet high. 
 
 The roof is supported only by the walls and the 
 front of the ante-chamber, which advances about 
 seven feet into the cave and has in front two 
 columns, surmounted by seven carved figures of 
 Buddha and attendants. 
 
 The image of Buddha in the shrine has once 
 been painted with deep Indian red. Perhaps this 
 was done at a much later date by some less reli- 
 gious artists. 
 
 It seems very much as though this cave was 
 used as a chapter-house for this last group of 
 caves. The interior is very dark, but is dry and 
 keeps an equable temperature all the year round. 
 
 The whole of this cave at one time was painted, 
 but now, except for fragments on the roof, all 
 have disappeared. These fragments consist of 
 flowers and interlaced designs. 
 
 From this cave we descend, and then descend 
 again by a steep path for a considerable distance 
 along the face of the scarp. 
 
 155 
 
CHAPTER TEN 
 ADVENTURES—PLEASANT AND OTHERWISE 
 
 From very early morning until late into the night 
 I worked. By day I copied the parts of the walls 
 that were well lit, and by night those that were 
 always dark; thus I economised both in petrol 
 and my eyesight. Life resolved itself into work, 
 eating and sleeping, and escapes from seen and 
 unseen foes. 
 
 Every morning when I went down to the 
 stream for my ablutions I found the footprints of 
 tigers, panthers and wolves, which had come down 
 to drink at night, and it was interesting to see 
 the little ones’ footprints with them. Why these 
 animals never hurt me I do not know. Perhaps 
 they had become Buddhist and sympathised 
 with my work. 
 
 In the autumn the colours changed to glorious 
 browns and reddish golds, and red blossoms 
 spread like flames on the hills; gradually the 
 trees dropped their leaves and the whole forest 
 became bare, and it seemed all waiting in silent 
 prayer for the coming Spring. 
 
 As the sun went down old vultures came to 
 their rocky nests by the waterfalls and owls 
 
 156 
 
Adventures—-Pleasant and Otherwise 
 
 hooted through the night. The opposite hill 
 gave me a living picture of animal and bird life 
 at all times of the day. Peacocks could be seen 
 everywhere in the jungle, by the stream, on the 
 rocks and trees, and their harsh squeaking voice 
 echoed from one side to the other of the hills. 
 The very first peacock I saw at Ajanta was sitting 
 towards nightfall on a black rock which pierced 
 the white sky. By slow degrees it descended to 
 the stream at the end of the hill to drink water. 
 
 One night I entered one of the less-explored 
 eaves; a very large unfinished one, which was 
 hardly ever cleaned and smelt stale and terrible, 
 while water leaked through the ceiling. The 
 hall was of great extent, and thick columns rose 
 to the ceiling, gorgeously carved and decorated. 
 The atmosphere was fearful and solemn. I felt 
 I was not alone. As I advanced into the middle, 
 with my petrol lamp in my hand, there was a whirr 
 of wings, and hundreds of swallows began to fall, 
 dazed at the light, striking my head and body 
 and tumbling to the ground. Bats, too, were 
 flying about. The ground and all round me was 
 so thick with these black rock swallows that I 
 was afraid of treading upon them, and could not 
 work in that cave by night. 
 
 Another evening, about twilight, just as I was 
 getting ready for my little supper of curry and 
 
 157 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 rice which Buddhu Miya was preparing, I heard 
 a crash, and in front of me fell a big heavy stone! 
 Almost immediately another followed, and had 
 I been just two or three feet farther forward I 
 should have been killed that evening by these 
 fragments of rock. I was startled, and asked my 
 servant : ‘* What is all this? What does it mean ? 
 Is it an earthquake ?” He also was quite dumb- 
 founded. Bs a 
 A little later we went by the side of the caves 
 to see what was above my cave and on the top 
 of the hills. The sides of these caves ascend like 
 a straight wall, and when we came out we saw 
 that there were hundreds of monkeys quarrelling 
 and fighting each other along the top of the hills. 
 My danger may have resulted from accident, 
 but I think the little beasts had seen me, and it 
 was not just chance that had sent those stones so 
 near to my head. 
 ~My servant pointed to the sky and said: 
 “‘ Look,”? and I saw the advance of heavy threat- 
 ening clouds. He then explained that there 
 would be a mighty storm that night, and the wild 
 monkeys, knowing this, came along from the 
 jungle to get shelter for the night in these caves. 
 Of course there was no door to my cave. I 
 slept without protection of any kind, it was open 
 to whatever animal or bird chose to come in, 
 
 158 
 
Adventures—Pleasant and Otherwise 
 
 But although monkeys do not live in caves 
 they were searching for safe corners between the 
 _ plain rocks and in the recesses of carved columns 
 where they could cling out of reach of their 
 natural enemies, the prowling hyenas and 
 tigers. 
 
 They turned up that night, but behaved very 
 well, and after all no one likes to get wet, so there 
 they stayed. But the monkeys, although annoy- 
 ing, were not so dangerous as some of my other 
 enemies, both tinier and larger, and the tiny ones 
 were poison bees. 
 
 On one occasion as I was passing from cave 10 
 to another with my petrol lamp in my hand, my 
 head was suddenly surrounded by a swarm of 
 bees. There are many combs of wild bees hanging 
 on the roof of these caves. Once a year the 
 village people come to collect honey. They 
 gather a special kind of leaf from certain jungle 
 trees, and making a fire of them create a smoke 
 which worries the bees. They are so sensitive 
 to the smell of the smoke that at once they try 
 to eat up their honey, and millions of them, 
 producing a dark cloud, fly miles away to avoid 
 the smell. Then the people collect what is left 
 of the honey to sell in the market. I had uncon- 
 sciously enacted the part of the honey-gatherers 
 and the bees smelling the fumes of my petrol 
 
 159 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 lamp thought their enemies were near and began 
 to come down.. All I could do was to run, for 
 if attacked they were most deadly, and it is said 
 that sometimes they are so poisonous that the 
 sting of one is enough to kill an elephant. 
 
 The chowkhidars of the caves told me that once 
 an official of the Nizam’s Government came to 
 inspect the caves. He was passing along outside 
 cave 10, quite carelessly puffing away at a cigar, 
 when down came a swarm of bees and stung his 
 bald head. Then he grew absolutely frantic and 
 ran towards the stream shouting for help; but 
 the faster he ran and the angrier he became, the 
 more the bees kept stinging. In desperation, he 
 plunged into the water. Thereupon these chowk- 
 hidars rushed out to his rescue, wrapped him in 
 rugs, and, since his head was badly swollen, 
 carried him to the village. 
 
 The only moment I felt really scared was one 
 night towards the end of my long and lonely life 
 in the caves. It was just before midnight. The 
 outside of the cave was fairly bright with the 
 stars above. I had been to bed early and was 
 sleeping peacefully in my little cot when some- 
 thing made me wake up, and I found myself 
 sitting up in strained attention. Something was 
 going to happen! Sure enough it did. 
 
 Very slowly a great dark shape passed in front 
 
 160 
 
Adventures—Pleasant and Otherwise 
 
 of my cave; I watched eagerly to know what it 
 was. It went gradually on. I thought; ‘ I hope 
 I am not dreaming,” and rubbed my eyes and 
 looked again. From the right-hand side of the 
 caves another shape followed the first, only 
 much bigger. It must have been four or five feet 
 long and about four feet high. When it came in 
 front of where I was sitting up motionless, it 
 seemed to be looking straight at me! I saw two 
 spots of light like eyes, and then they turned and 
 directed themselves away and passed into the 
 jungle. It was a huge tiger ! 
 
 My servant was lying asleep like a log in the 
 left-hand corner of the cave. I was terribly 
 frightened, but the fear of losing him altogether 
 prevented me from giving a true version of my 
 experience. I just described the beast as a 
 ‘jackal or something.”’ I thought if he knew 
 the truth he might run away from me altogether. 
 The next morning I was able to trace a regular © 
 catwalk down to the torrent bed by which these 
 animals went to and fro. It passed along the 
 terrace outside of my cave, but three or four 
 yards from where I used to sleep. After that 
 Buddhu Miya and I used to collect huge logs of 
 wood from the jungle every evening to build a 
 great fire on the terrace. . 
 
 Sometimes, late into the night, I copied the 
 frescoes in the caves which I had selected before- 
 
 M 161 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 hand. After supper was my time to study and 
 to wander round the caves to amuse myself. 
 
 The paintings in these caves were not neces- 
 sarily the work of one artist, but of many, some 
 of whom were most probably the monks them- 
 selves. Of course, the best walls were given to 
 the best artists. 
 
 Among the Hindus round about the village of 
 Ajanta the story goes that once the gods and 
 goddesses, tired of the monotony of heaven, and 
 desiring to refresh themselves with a little excite- 
 ment, begged leave to go down to earth for one 
 night to enjoy themselves. So earnestly did 
 they entreat Indra, God of Heaven, that in com- 
 passion he granted their request, with the con- 
 dition, however, that they should return before 
 the cock’s first crow, otherwise they would be 
 shut out from heaven for ever. 
 
 Then the gods and goddesses came down swiftly 
 to the earth, dancing and singing for joy, and no 
 sooner did they see the splendid gorge near 
 Ajanta than they chose it for the site of their 
 one night’s entertainment: Busily they hol- 
 lowed out of the hillside, halls and chambers and 
 so thoroughly enjoyed themselves that they for- 
 got the time limit; but, alas, they were startled 
 by the cock’s crow, and the king of heaven’s 
 curse fell upon them, and so they transformed 
 
 162 
 
A dventures—Pleasant and Otherwise 
 
 themselves into beautiful sculptures and paint- 
 ings. Never again could they return to heaven, 
 but were forced to remain on earth for ever. 
 
 The poor illiterate people are so ignorant that 
 they do not even know that these caves are 
 Buddhist monasteries; but connect them with 
 this legend. However, the villagers have always 
 known of the existence of the caves, and from 
 very ancient times, once a year, they still hold a 
 traditional fair down by the stream below the 
 caves, where priests, men, women and children 
 can visit the caves, and spend one day of the 
 year in an entirely different way from all the 
 rest, about the end of November. 
 
 One early morning, near cave 1, I began to 
 hear a noise of people and rumble of bullock 
 carts. As it was impossible for the carts to go 
 farther, the people approached gradually towards 
 the source of the stream. All day long Hindu 
 people were arriving from everywhere around, 
 sometimes from as many as thirty miles away, 
 starting for the festival even two or three days 
 before. : 
 
 They began to settle in the valley and to bathe 
 in the stream, afterwards putting on fresh gor- 
 geously-coloured clothes, red, green, purple and 
 yellow, and then went into the temples. The 
 priests each took charge of three or four caves, in 
 
 163 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 order to show to the pilgrims the images of 
 Buddha sitting cross-legged in the shrine, at 
 whose feet or into whose lap they gave offerings of 
 flowers, fruit, a little rice, small earthenware 
 lamps, and money. As soon as one batch of wor- 
 shippers had passed out the priest would take the 
 food and money into his own keeping. 
 
 Meanwhile, below in the ravine, as the sun went 
 higher up in the sky, alittle noisy bazaar gradually 
 sprang up, with small stalls for selling food, sweet- 
 meats, flowers, fruits, clothes, earthenware lamps, 
 toys and reed pipes for children. 
 
 Throughout the whole day a continuous stream 
 of people came and went to and from the caves, 
 others bathed and worshipped, cooked and ate, 
 reclined, slept or sang by the stream. The fair 
 lasted until the fall of day, when the people 
 eradually deserted the ancient shrines, leaving 
 the valley once more lonely and still. 
 
 It happened one day that while I was examining 
 closely the colossal image of Buddha in cave 
 16 and was feeling the smoothness of his arms, I 
 felt something hard sticking up in the joint of 
 one of the arms. Feeling rather curious, I dug 
 it out of the accumulated dirt with a penknife and 
 found it to be a heavy thick piece of metal, which, 
 on being brought to the light, appeared to be a 
 coin, apparently very ancient. 
 
 164 
 
Adventures—Pleasant and Otherwise 
 
 Some time later, professors from Calcutta 
 University came for a short visit to the caves. I 
 showed them the coin, and they, with much ex- 
 -citement, told me it might be a very early Budd- 
 hist coin. When it had been cleaned, however, 
 it proved to be an early Mahomedan coin, about 
 five hundred years old. Evidently some Hindu 
 pilgrim had placed it as an offering in the hand of 
 Buddha. 
 
 This goes to prove that even in those early days 
 the caves were known to the Hindus, who used to 
 come and worship there, but not to the Maho- 
 medans, who would otherwise have destroyed 
 the whole place, as they did destroy other caves 
 and temples in India. 
 
 Occasionally a few Hindu people come to fish 
 in the deep lake at the bottom of the falls or to 
 gather wood and wild fruits in the jungle around 
 the ravine, and then they wander into the caves. 
 It is astonishing to see that their faces and 
 features, simple movements, and simplicity of 
 nature are exactly like these old paintings, 
 especially resembling the frescoes in caves 9 and 
 10. 
 
 The hillside was always covered with wild 
 fruits and flowers; but now, in the autumn 
 fragrant siuly-flowers bloomed all along the way- 
 side, over the boulders and in amongst the pome- 
 
 165 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 granates, grapes and rich ripe berries. So fragile 
 were they that at the first touch of the sun the 
 white petals and orange stems drooped. I was 
 reminded of the far-gone days when the simple 
 monks lived chiefly on the fruits and vegetables 
 they grew, of which these I saw were the faint 
 wild traces. 
 
 In the stream and all along its banks are 
 scattered millions of little diamond-shaped stones, 
 black, vermilion red, and yellow. One feels a 
 ereat desire to collect them. It was this rock- 
 colour with which the artists of Ajanta used to 
 paint their frescoes. In Sanskrit literature is this 
 reference to rock colour: ‘His companion 
 picks up from the ground pieces of clay or stone 
 of different colours,—blue, yellow, red, brown and 
 erey.”’ But this crude material was known not 
 only in those times, but even to-day among the 
 Indian village artists it is used for executing huge 
 images of gods and goddesses. In Bengal such 
 artists have shewn me their lampblacks, their 
 glues and their rice waters and their numerous 
 rock colours. The rich Indian red (known as 
 Geri-mati) can be bought by chunks for a penny 
 or two in the bazaar. The glue is obtained by 
 boiling the tamarine seed. 
 
 From various references in old Sanskrit writings 
 it is known that wall painting was exceedingly 
 
 166 
 
Adventures—Pleasant and Otherwise 
 
 common in India from very ancient times, all 
 the rich people having their walls decorated with 
 frescoes. And even up till to-day this traditional! 
 art has survived, though in rather a decadent 
 way; so that paintings of elephants, hunting 
 tigers, soldiers on horseback, mythological gods 
 and goddesses, a parrot on an apple tree, and 
 two bulls or goats fighting one another are found 
 on the fronts, backs and sides of houses, as well 
 as alpana designs, which every Indian woman 
 knows and with which, using the tips of her 
 fingers, in a few hours she can cover a large wall 
 or floor. 
 
 167 
 
CHAPTER ELEVEN 
 THE FINEST PERIOD OF INDIAN ART 
 
 Durineé the years from the third century to the > 
 sixth century A.D., another group of caves was cut 
 out on the eastern side of the hill and to the right 
 of the caves of the first period. These six caves 
 are now numbered 6, 5, 4, 8, 2, 1. All day itis 
 impossible to see clearly within them, so dark are 
 they; but at evening, just before the sun sinks 
 in the west, they light up, and the frescoes glow 
 on the walls. They fall into the third group of 
 excavations in the Ajanta series. 
 
 Cave 6.—This bihara cave 6 is the only one 
 here at Ajanta which has two storeys, but has, 
 unfortunately, been excavated in a spot where 
 the rock is not so sound as in other places. In 
 consequence of this, the baranda of the upper 
 storey has fallen down, and the interior has a 
 damp and ruined aspect not common in cave 
 architecture. | 
 
 The halls of both storeys are of about the same 
 dimensions, fifty-three feet square. ‘There are 
 four large windows which light the halls, and the 
 stone wall under them is panelled to give the effect 
 of wood. The upper storey has twelve pillars. In 
 the lower, four more are introduced in the centre. 
 
 168 
 

 
 ER STORBY: 
 
 < 
 
 OW 
 
 FACADE OF THE L 
 
 E 6. 
 
 CAv 
 
 
 
 AVE 6 
 
 INTERIOR OF C 
 
"ZI HAV) 
 “UNAS AAOT IVAON 
 
 
 
The Finest Period of Indian Art 
 
 In the facade, on each side of the doorway, in 
 the upper corner there must surely once have 
 been two carved figures, but these have now 
 fallen away. Local mendicants lived in this cave 
 - and made fires, which did much damage to the 
 interior and the paintings on the walls and 
 ceilings therein. 
 
 Out of the sixteen pillars in the lower hall, only 
 a few now remain standing. The others col- 
 lapsed because of the mud which covered the 
 lower parts and caused them to weaken and 
 crumble away. Not these pillars alone have 
 given way, but also masses of stone from the 
 ceiling have fallen. 
 
 _ The stair in the front aisle leading to the upper 
 storey has been broken away below, but is still 
 connected with the baranda above. This baranda 
 was originally supported by two fine columns and 
 four pilasters. Above the landing are many 
 small Buddhas carved on the wall, and two stupas. 
 - Qutside the baranda in the upper storey are 
 small chapels with sculptured Buddhas. There 
 are also at each end of the baranda small chambers 
 with carved pillars ; no doubt these were specially 
 built for the living apartments of the high priests. 
 Inside these chambers there are rooms large 
 enough for consultations and other purposes. 
 
 Opposite the central space at each side and at 
 
 169 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 the end of the left aisle are chambers with pillars 
 in front, each leading to an inner cell. There are 
 also three cells on each side and one at the end of 
 the right aisle. The shrine contains the usual 
 statue of Buddha. 
 
 The ante-chamber is quite large and has a 
 colossal figure of Buddha on each side of the 
 shrine door. The shrine contains the usual 
 statue of Buddha with two antelopes on the front 
 of the throne. 
 
 This cave also has been painted, but the paint- 
 ings have almost entirely disappeared. It has 
 also a larger number of sculptures of Buddhas 
 than any other bihara at Ajanta. 
 
 The few fragments of painting on the back 
 wall of the lower storey and in the ante-chamber 
 are so smoked that nothing can be made out of 
 them, except a large palace scene and Indra-like 
 figures on both sides of the shrine. 
 
 The upper storey has been painted, but this has 
 almost entirely disappeared. The front of the 
 chapel in the right end of the front aisle still 
 retains fragments of the painting, and inside 
 the walls have been covered with painted Bud- 
 dhas. In the left chapel in front, on each side 
 of the cell-door, is a painted Drabirian building, 
 a bihara, on the inside of the baranda roof of 
 which is a circular ornament, with strings of 
 
 170 
 
The Finest Period of Indian Art 
 
 pearls hanging from it, and inside the’ bihara is 
 a seated Buddha. 
 
 The lower storey of cave 6 has its pillars 
 arranged in different formation from that in the 
 later Ajanta caves, where there would have been 
 twelve round a square. Here they are arranged 
 in four rows of four each, sixteen in all, and 
 without capitals or sculpture. 
 
 Great pains were taken with the statues of 
 Buddha; one in the small chamber to the right 
 of the first floor of cave 6 is covered with a layer 
 of the finest plaster, one eighth of an inch thick, 
 so painted and polished that the face has the 
 smoothness and sheen of porcelain. 
 
 This is the earliest cave of the third group and 
 probably it dates from 450 a.pD. to 550 A.D. 
 
 Now we pass on to cave 4, the largest bihara 
 in the whole series of twenty-nine caves at 
 Ajanta. The next largest is cave 24. 
 
 It is situated higher up in the cliff than 38, 
 and probably a little higher than the next three 
 at this end of the hill. Simple grandeur gives 
 it a wonderfully beautiful appearance. 
 
 The facade is covered with eight plain octag- 
 onal figure-pillars. The huge baranda, ninety 
 feet long by sixteen feet wide, is supported by 
 severe octagonal pillars with bracket capitals. 
 At each end is a small room, ten feet by eight 
 
 171 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 feet, reached by three steps, which were probably 
 chambers for guests or for the keeper of the cave. 
 
 In the wall at the back of the baranda the 
 central door is sculptured instead of painted, 
 which is unusual at Ajanta. The reason is that 
 at the later date of this excavation artists were 
 not content with painting, but felt an irresistible 
 impulse to a more plastic form of decoration. 
 Unfortunately, this door has been damaged up 
 to a height of two feet, the floor of the cave having 
 for long been filled with earth. However, the 
 decoration on the wall each side is still unharmed. 
 Here are depicted fascinating scenes of men and 
 women, making merry, stories about lions, bulls, 
 monkeys, goats rampant and elephants, and 
 also, on the right side, a large standing relief of 
 Buddha, a prince, young, strong and beautiful. 
 
 The square windows are charmingly carved 
 with delicate whirling foliage, and among it a 
 few female figures and chubby babies. 
 
 The hall is eighty-seven feet square, supported 
 by twenty-eight columns of the same plain style 
 as those of the baranda. At each end of the aisle 
 is a cell. The ceiling looks rough, as though a 
 layer of rock had fallen off; but here, and 
 nowhere else in the cave, are traces of painting in 
 brilliant colours. The ante-chamber, twenty-one 
 feet by thirteen feet, has two standing Buddhas 
 
 172 
 
The Finest Period of Indian Art 
 
 at each end of its wall and on either side of the 
 shrine door are two similar figures. 
 
 Cave 8.—This cave, a small bihara placed 
 high up on the western top of the crescent hill, 
 dating from the seventh century, was never 
 completed ; in fact, only the baranda was blocked 
 out. The baranda is about twenty-nine feet 
 by seven feet, and supported by four pillars 
 and two pilasters. A rough entrance has been 
 made into the hall, but there has been scarcely 
 any excavation. 
 
 CavE 5.—This is another bihara cave, at the 
 same level as Number 6, possessing no pecu- 
 liarity and never quite finished. We may assume 
 it to be of about the same date as cave 6. 
 
 The baranda is over forty-five feet long by 
 about nine feet wide, with four front pillars ; 
 but only one—that on the right side of the en- 
 trance—is finished, quite plainly in the same style 
 as those of neighbouring cave, 4, only much 
 shorter and with a square base to the bottom. 
 
 The door of this cave is rather interesting, with 
 its many carved standing figures of Buddha and 
 attendants and pairs.of seated figures. Windows 
 have been cut out but never finished. 
 
 No doubt the rock here was found unsuitable 
 for excavation, and therefore the whole cave was 
 left unfinished. 
 
 173 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 CAVE 2.—The second cave, one of the latest 
 of the series, is similar to but smaller than its 
 neighbour, cave 1. It is one of the cave most 
 notable for its richness in fresco paintings, 
 which are marvellously preserved, in spite of 
 their exposed position. 
 
 The baranda, slightly over forty-six feet in 
 length, is supported in front by four pillars and 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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 ~ PY EYP aia np mmm ios caret ge 
 ia ry “4 
 
 4 
 
 
 
 VER AND AM 
 
 a: A 
 
 
 
 PLAN OF CAVE 2 
 
 two pilasters of massive proportions, all with 
 similarly elegant designs; so fine and delicate 
 indeed are the ornamentations that they would 
 seem more suited to metal work than to stone. 
 At either end of the baranda in front of the two 
 principal cells stands a small porch, the difference 
 in height being made up by bas-reliefs repre- 
 senting scenes from the life of Buddha. A 
 chapel-room leads from each porch. 
 
 174 
 
The Finest Period of Indian Art 
 
 Between the hall and the baranda is a finely 
 decorated door, at the bottom of which are 
 several guards, apparently holding flowers ; cover- 
 ing them are snake-canopies. Above this are 
 numerous pairs of standing figures, male and 
 - female, carved in various attitudes. The cave 
 has two windows placed opposite to the side 
 aisle formed by the richly-carved columns in the 
 hall. 
 
 One is a little taken aback on entering the hall 
 to find it so dark and redolent of bats. Its dimen- 
 sions are only about forty-eight feet square and 
 eleven feet high. The twelve pillars supporting 
 the roof are rich in carving and some have fat 
 four-armed dwarfs at the corners of the capitals. 
 
 In the sanctuary is a statue; of course, of 
 Buddha. On either side of it, at the end of the 
 aisles, is a chapel cell filled with marvellous sculp- 
 ture. In the one on the north sit two most 
 portly figures, the female has a child on her 
 knees and is amusing it with a toy. In the south 
 chapel two male figures occupy a like position. 
 
 The beauty of this cave is due to the paintings, 
 especially those on the ceilings. For the most 
 
 ‘part they are only decorative scrolls and patterns ; 
 but so appropriately placed as to give an ex- 
 tremely finished look to the cave; in fact, the 
 effect and arrangements of a complete bihara 
 
 175 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 can be better understood from this cave than from 
 any other at Ajanta. A very great deal of the 
 painting still remains. In the baranda the 
 pattern on the wall can be easily followed. 
 
 Inside, the ceilings of the great hall and aisles, 
 the ante-chamber, shrine, and chapels are all 
 admirably designed, and though, especially in 
 the hall, blackened with smoke, they contain 
 many striking examples of floral decorations, 
 Naga and flying figures, and others with human 
 and animal heads, but the lower extremities 
 ending in scroll work. 
 
 It is the only cave that retains any fragments of 
 painting in the shrine, the ceiling being espe- 
 cially fine. 
 
 The painting in the two chapels 1s of a yellower 
 tone than most of the other wall paintings, and 
 is filled with standing figures, many of them 
 women, some with aureoles round their heads, 
 and is possibly of later date than the rest, pro- 
 bably of the seventh century. On the right wall 
 of the hall is one of the most interesting groups 
 of pictures now left, one of the scenes between 
 the second and third cell doors below being the 
 retinue of a raja. He sallies forth on a large 
 elephant with the umbrella of state over his head, 
 and the ankusa, or goad, in his hand ; behind him 
 is an attendant with the chatra (or umbrella) ; at 
 
 176 
 
The Finest Period of Indian Art 
 
 his side goes a smaller elephant, with a rider now 
 defaced, and before it walks a man with a laden 
 bag on his back. In front, advance to the left five 
 horses, two of them green, the men on the green 
 horses looking back at the Raja. There are also 
 fourteen men on foot, of whom eleven seem to be 
 soldiers, carrying oblong shields, and three carry- 
 ing round ones stamped with huge grinning 
 Gorgon faces. Two above on the extreme left 
 have swords in scabbards, nine others have Nepal 
 swords known as khukri or dabiyasms, but very 
 long ; two other men play flutes, and one beats a 
 drum (dhak and dhole). 
 
 Between the first and second cell doors is repre- 
 sented, with a conventionalism worthy of the 
 Chinese, a river with many fish and shells in it. 
 A boat with three masts, a job sail, and an oar 
 behind, and filled towards the stern with ten 
 matkas, or earthenware jars, carries a man in it 
 with long hair, who is praying. In the heaven 
 behind Chandra, the moon, a figure with a crescent 
 behind him, is represented as descending, fol- 
 lowed by another figure. A naga-raja and his 
 wife in the water seem. to draw the boat back; 
 and below is represented in the water another 
 figure, with a human head and long tail. On the 
 left, in the direction of the boat’s course, is 
 Buddha on the shore and a figure worshipping 
 
 N 177 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 him. Rocks are conventionally painted. The upper 
 part of this wall is covered with interesting scenes. 
 
 The long panels of the ceiling in cave 2, dating 
 from about A.D. 600, offer well-preserved examples 
 of charming floral decorations in blue. The 
 circular panels are very fine, the figures in the 
 spandrils being particularly good and full of move- 
 ment. The individual figures are remarkable for 
 clever drawing, the artist having apparently gone 
 out of his way to invent specially difficult poses ; 
 a woman prostrating herself, and snake-hooded 
 nagas, or water-sprites, are good examples. 
 The woman standing with her left leg bent up 
 is a capital piece of draughtsmanship, the feet 
 being as well drawn as the hands, and the woman 
 in the swing is pleasing and life-like. 
 
 In the left hand cell are fragments of a long 
 painted inscription in small letters on a dark 
 green ground, and scattered over the cave on the 
 paintings are seven or eight inscriptions. The 
 character of the letters is sixth or seventh cen- 
 tury, that is to say, probably later than the 
 excavation of the cave. Generally the inscrip- 
 tions refer to the names of kings, the Goddess of 
 Learning, and disciples of Buddha. 
 
 In cave 2, on the right-hand side of the wall, 
 there is a famous picture of a king threatening 
 one of his beautiful court dancers. 
 
 178 
 
The Finest Period of Indian Art 
 
 
 
 A FIGURE FROM A PAINTING IN CAVE 2 
 
 Ly Ae. 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 One day Buddha was passing along the king’s 
 mango groves beyond the palace when the king, 
 | who was hostile to 
 Buddha’s _ preaching, 
 sent his most beauti- 
 
 
 
 ful dancing girl of the 
 court to tempt him 
 from the path he had 
 chosen. But she in- 
 stead, no sooner saw 
 him, than she fell 
 worshipping at his 
 , feet. So angry was 
 r= the king when he 
 
 “- “knew that she had 
 failed to tempt Bud- 
 dha, that he threat- 
 ened her with death. 
 In the fresco the proud 
 king is seen grasping 
 his sword while _ be- 
 fore him in supplica- 
 tion kneels the danc- 
 ing girl, and around 
 them, weeping, are 
 
 THE MESSENGER IN CAVE 2 
 
 other women. Very strangely, damp has soaked 
 into the painting in such a way that it is the 
 king’s head that is cut off. 
 
 180 
 

 
 THE BIRTH OF BUDDHA. 
 CAVE 2. 
 
 
 
 A KING PUNISHING ONE OF HIS COURT DANCERS. 
 CAVE 2. 
 
 From copies in the possession of Kallianjee Curumsey, Esq., Bombay. 
 
By permission of tke Intia Society. 
 
 A LOTUS LAKE, WITH HUNTERS AND 
 WILD GEESE, 
 
 CAVE 2. 
 
 
 
 A RICH LADY PREPARING TO VISIT BUDDHA. 
 CAVE 2. 
 
 
 
 From a copy in the possession of Kallianjee Curumsey, Esq., 
 Bombay=-~ -. ~ ~ 
 
The Finest Period of Indian Art 
 
 Next on the right of this fresco is depicted 
 the story of a messenger telling the king of some 
 ereat loss which he has sustained. The messenger 
 is an old man, calm and _ self-possessed, but 
 showing, through his troubled eyes, hopeless 
 expression and, above all, the outspread palm, 
 the need for absolute abandonment of hope 
 which he wishes to convey to the king. 
 
 On the right hand wall of a dark cell by the 
 side of the ante-chamber in cave 2, where no 
 light can ever reach it, is a square painting of a 
 rich lady, accompanied by women attendants, 
 preparing to visit Buddha. Unfortunately I 
 found it impossible to make a complete copy, 
 as my paper was not large enough, therefore | 
 had to content myself with the middle portion, 
 leaving out some of the attendants and children. 
 The scene of this painting was laid in the baranda 
 of a house and shows the wood and stone archi- 
 tecture of those days, as do also the steps leading 
 up to the ground in front. This ground is deep 
 Indian red, a very common colour for earth in 
 Ajanta frescoes, and it is sprinkled with blossoms 
 from a creeper which twines into the window. 
 Children are playing with hobby-horse and tops. 
 The lady must have been a good and devoted 
 follower of Buddha, for above, in the right-hand 
 corner, hovers a boy deba. Her fine muslins 
 
 181 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 were so frail that they have worn away, and she 
 appears almost nude. 
 
 CavE 1.—At the extreme right end of the 
 crescent-moon hill here at Ajanta is cave I, 
 which was probably the last excavated of the 
 series of twenty-nine caves, 
 
 This bihara or conventual abode possesses the 
 most highly ornamented and the handsomest 
 exterior, and is filled with marvellous paintings. 
 They are an example of the highest standard of 
 Buddhist art in India—a standard so high that 
 it has scarcely, if ever, been surpassed. 
 
 The facade of this cave is beautifully designed, 
 the variety combined with sufficient uniformity 
 for architectural purposes produces a great rich- 
 ness of effect. It is the only example here of a 
 bihara decorated with sculpture. 
 
 In front of the baranda there has been a porch 
 supported by two advanced columns, of which 
 only fragments of the bases and elegant capitals, 
 like those in cave 2 remain; at each end, out- 
 side the baranda, there is a room whose open 
 front is supported by two pillars, the floors being 
 raised a few steps and the elaborate entablature 
 of the facade is carried round the whole front at 
 the same level. The room on the east opens 
 into another, nearly thirteen and a half feet 
 square, and almost completely dark; that 
 
 182 
 

 
 CAVE 2. 
 

 
 PRINCE GAUTAMA AND HIS WIFE YASHODHARA, WITH ATTENDANTS. 
 CAVE at. 
 
The Finest Period of Indian Art 
 
 on the left opens into two others somewhat 
 smaller. ° 
 
 The six pillars which support the baranda are 
 of three or four different orders. The outer 
 pillars are merely square piers ; but they increase 
 in richness from the flanks to the centre, where the 
 circular shafts are elaborately ornamented and 
 the capitals grandly bold; thus drawing the 
 attention of the spectator towards the cave’s 
 main entrance. 
 
 The beautiful doorway was originally covered 
 with thin white plaster, a great many traces of 
 which still remain, and the carved figures and 
 decorations round the door were also once 
 coloured. It was sculptured in simple and sub- 
 dued fashion, in order that the flat paintings on 
 the walls might appear more harmonious and 
 striking. 
 
 Cave 1 contains some of the greatest master- 
 pieces in the world. On the left of the central 
 shrine is the picture of Prince Gautama and 
 his wife, Yashodhara. It is most likely their 
 marriage. The prince holds in his hand a blue 
 lily. The bridal crowns are such as are still used 
 in India to-day. 
 
 In the upper part of the fresco Buddha is 
 again painted in a love scene with Yashodhara 
 on a much smaller scale. He appears to look 
 
 183 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 down upon the futility of the world which is 
 represented around him. Near by are two cranes, 
 one is straining for flight, while the other settles 
 contentedly upon the nest. Perhaps they sym- 
 bolise the diverse feelings of Prince Gautama and 
 Yashodhara. 
 
 
 
 FIGURES FROM A WALL PAINTING IN CAVE l 
 
 The prince is painted in a light flesh colour, 
 quite golden, while Yashodhara is less notice- 
 able and of a dull colour. Shadows have been 
 stippled with blue. So wonderfully is the scene 
 painted that, in spite of the varnish, the colour 
 is still clear and vivid. Most probably the artist 
 spent his life in thinking of the subject before he 
 executed it boldly and with certainty. This 
 
 184 
 
BACK VIEW OF A SEATED GIRL. 
 CAVEwT: 
 
 (From a carbon tracing by Miss Doroth 
 Larcher.) 
 
 
 
 
 
 A PALACE SCENE, 
 CAVE I. 
 
 
 
 y permission of the India Society. 
 

 
 CEILING FRESCO. 
 CAVES. 
 
The Finest Period of Indian Art 
 
 fresco is an example of the highest school of 
 Buddhist art in India after a development which 
 covered eleven hundred years. 
 
 Besides elaborate paintings such as these, the 
 walls are covered with sketches in Indian red 
 on a white ground. Nothing could be more 
 fascinating, for one is enabled thereby to study 
 the process of painting of the fresco from the 
 first sketches to the finished masterpiece. 
 
 At Ajanta the artists not only depicted narra- 
 tive by a series of continuous paintings but also 
 by means of a single masterpiece. On the left 
 of the ante-chamber, in cave 1, in a very dark 
 place, is an example of this, the temptation of 
 Buddha by Mara, a painting over twelve feet by 
 ten feet (see plate facing page 72). The picture 
 has been badly varnished and damaged, and 
 might fall at any moment through its own weight. 
 But one can still see that it is beautiful enough to 
 rank with any masterpiece that the world has 
 produced. 
 
 Under a bodhi-tree in the middle is seated 
 Buddha, golden-robed, calm and self-possessed, 
 his face unchanged by the temptations and horrors 
 surrounding him, and his hand just touching the 
 earth, to bear witness of this truth. In front is 
 the beautiful Mara and, on either side of him, his 
 most alluring daughters seek to tempt Buddha 
 
 185 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 from his meditations and high purpose. All 
 round horrible and fearful creatures are making 
 desperate efforts to terrify him. Warriors slash 
 at him with their long straight swords, threaten- 
 ing him with destruction, a sea-lion gnashes its 
 jaws, one loathsome devil, with starting eyes 
 and great black eyebrows, stretches his mouth 
 with his fingers to a hideous length and from 
 the mouth of another issues a snake, hissing. 
 But Buddha sits tranquil and at perfect rest ; 
 as the lily that reposes on the placid waters, as 
 the brightness of the flame; firm as the Mount 
 Everest, so Bodhisatva was unmoved; even as 
 the iron walls that surround the universe, his 
 heart and mind are at perfect rest, without fear 
 or anxiety, and entirely self-possessed. 
 
 186 
 
CHAPTER TWELVE 
 MY LAST DAYS AT AJANTA 
 
 On the western side of the crescent-shaped hill 
 the last series of caves, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 
 27, 28 and 29 were excavated between the 
 fourth and seventh centuries A.D. 
 
 As these face towards the east, they are bright 
 with sunlight in the morning, but gradually 
 become darker as the day wears on. Thus the 
 sun shines into some of them in the morning and 
 into others in the afternoon. 
 
 On the other side of the earliest group, or at 
 the western tip of the moon’s crescent, are the 
 monastic halls numbered 1 to 6, most of which 
 belong to the seventh century, and right opposite 
 to them, at the other extremity, is the fourth 
 group, standing apart from the other three and 
 facing the setting sun. 
 
 This includes the biharas or colleges numbered 
 20 to 25, and the magnificent chaitya house 26, 
 which are the last and most elaborate of the four 
 eroups ; some of them remained unfinished. 
 
 Cave 21.—This large bihara cave 21 was cut 
 considerably further along on the western side of 
 
 187 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 the hill, just after the excavation of Number 2 
 on the east. It was richly carved; but has been 
 largely destroyed by the streams which fall from 
 above in the rainy season; the falling rocks 
 have damaged the front, and the baranda has 
 been gradually obliterated by deposits of mud 
 and mossy vegetation due to the water. 
 
 At each end of the baranda is a small room 
 raised three steps above the level of the floor 
 with two carved pillars in front, over which is a 
 sculptured frieze. 
 
 Between caves 20 and 21 the hill recedes a 
 little, and here a great waterfall descends in the 
 rainy season. The caves of this group, 21, 22, 
 23, 24, in the western hill, all greatly resemble 
 the chapels in caves 1 and 2 of the eastern hill, 
 and are arranged and finished in a similar style of 
 rich ornamentation. 
 
 The hall measures fifty-one feet square and has 
 chambers with pillared fronts in the middle and 
 the ends of the side aisles, leading into a cell ; 
 besides which there are four other cells on each 
 side of the cave. The pillars in front of the cells 
 at the back are surmounted by some very good 
 carvings. The roof of the hall is supported by 
 twelve columns, ornamented in a style similar to 
 those in cave 2. 
 
 The entrance to the ante-chamber is unfinished 
 
 188 
 
My Last Days at Ajanta 
 
 and the shrine possesses a huge figure of Buddha 
 sitting cross-legged. There has been a great deal 
 of painting here ; but most of it has now gone. 
 
 The doorway that leads into this cave 21 is 
 elegant, and clearly dates from the fifth or sixth 
 century A.D. 
 
 Some pieces of the roof painting inside the hall 
 are still distinct. The blues look as fresh as if 
 they had just been put on, whereas they were done 
 more than a thousand years ago. On the left 
 wall are a few figures of Buddha and fair-skinned 
 female figures. Not all the walls of this cave 
 were painted, and it is very interesting to see 
 how portions of ground made smooth for paint- 
 ings still remain to be filled in with brush and 
 paint. 
 
 CavE 22.—Twenty-two is another small bihara 
 just seventeen feet square with four unfinished 
 cells. The whole cave has the appearance 
 of being unfinished. There is no window; but 
 a very pretty door and a narrow baranda, of 
 which both pillars are broken. 
 
 In the sanctuary is an image of Buddha with 
 his feet resting on the lotus, the Buddhist emblem 
 of creative power. On the right side is a paint- 
 ing of seven Buddhas, each under his bodhi- 
 tree and with his name painted beneath: as 
 Bipasbi, Sikhi, Bissabhu... Kanaka Muni, Kas- 
 
 189 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 yapa, Sahya Muni, Maitreza, and the missing 
 name might be Kakusanda. The Buddhist 
 thinks: 
 
 ** Whoever makes an image of Buddha becomes 
 complete in beatitude, auspiciousness, and good 
 qualities, and his splendour is brilliant through 
 virtues and physical organs, and is delightsome 
 to the eyes.” 
 
 Similar inscriptions to those in cave 16 are 
 found in the left end of the baranda of this cave 
 22. They are of eleven lines with only a few 
 words in each line, written in Sanskrit, and read- 
 ing something like this :— 
 
 ‘** The meritorious gift of a mandapa by Jayata 
 bkilisk ose of ..... family, a great Upasaka, 
 great grandson of... grand son of... of 
 Acharya Indra ... son of Dharmahaga. . 
 may the merit of this be for excellent knowledge 
 to all sentient beings, beginning with father and 
 mother, etc.”’ 
 
 Cave 23.—This cave, a little below the level 
 of cave 22, is another bihara, and about fifty-one. 
 feet square and over twelve feet high, with twelve 
 pillars. 
 
 The four massive columns in the baranda, of a 
 design most suitable to rock architecture, are 
 still in pretty good condition. They are very 
 similar to the pillars of cave 1 in the eastern 
 
 190 
 
My Last Days at Ajanta 
 
 hill, and especially so in the capital where four 
 dwarfs at the corner uphold square brackets. 
 
 On each side of the door is a guardian male 
 figure with a cobra-snake hood. Two simply- 
 carved windows light the interior. At either 
 end of the baranda is a chapel. 
 
 This cave is more or less unfinished, without 
 an image, even in the sanctuary. In some 
 places the pillars are merely shaped, in others the 
 carving is incomplete. On the whole, it appears 
 that it is the carving process that has taken the 
 greatest amount of time and labour. There 
 exists no trace of painting in any part of the build- 
 ing. 
 
 Cave 24.—If completed, cave 24 would have 
 been the largest and one of the most beautiful 
 biharas in the whole series of the caves at Ajanta. 
 It is very unlike the others. We do not know 
 the reason, but somehow the work was stopped 
 before completion. 
 
 In the baranda there are six pillars, some of 
 which are much damaged; but recently they 
 have been repaired. The bracket capitals still 
 hang from the top, although the pillars are 
 broken away. The carved groups of flying 
 figures, scroll and leaf ornaments are of most 
 beautiful workmanship. The work on the doors 
 and windows also is very elaborate. These orna- 
 
 191 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 ments remind one of those in cave 19, and 
 so the date is apparently no later than that. 
 
 Inside the hall only one column has been 
 finished; nor is any part of the interior com- 
 pletely executed. Because of the very unfinished 
 state of the interior, we are able to learn exactly 
 how these caves were excavated. Long alleys 
 were cut out in the rock with pickaxes and then 
 the intervening walls were broken down, except 
 where required for supporting columns. There 
 is no trace of painting left anywhere. 
 
 Cave 25.—To the right of the great clei 
 temple, Number 6 of the last group of caves at 
 Ajanta and a little higher up, is a small bihara 
 temple now known as 25. 
 
 The baranda opens into an enclosed court in 
 front, from which a door leads into the next cave, 
 26. The baranda has a chamber with three cells 
 at the left end. 
 
 One can enter the hall by three doors. It is 
 twenty-six feet square, and has neither cell nor. 
 | sanctuary. 
 
 No paintings are found here. 
 
 Cave 26.—The fourth mighty chaitya temple, 
 which is the last finished shrine, was excavated, 
 it seems, for the worship of Buddhist monks who 
 lived in the biharas at the eastern end of the 
 hill. It nobly terminates the western hill, and 
 
 192 
 

 
 FACADE OF CAVE 26. 
 
INTO THE RIGHT AISLE OF CAVE 26. 
 
 
 
My Last Days at Ajanta 
 
 is faced and lit by the rising sun, and must have 
 been used therefore especially for morning 
 prayers. 
 
 Probably the great Chinese pilgrim, Heuen 
 Tsang, visited it in the year 640 A.p. 
 
 The lower part of the facade is broken away by 
 the fall of rocks above or possibly through an 
 earthquake. But, round the arched-window it is 
 still perfect, covered chiefly with figures of 
 Buddha. Over the porch there was once a 
 music gallery which must have extended the 
 whole way across, although this is most unusual 
 in the temples at Ajanta. 
 
 This magnificent chaitya is larger than cave 19. 
 In length it is nearly sixty-eight feet, in breadth 
 thirty-six feet, and in height thirty-one feet from 
 the centre of the nave to the roof. As in other 
 caves, the stone roof represents wooden structure. 
 Twenty-six pillars surround the nave, and run 
 round the stupa at the back, richly and delicately 
 carved in the style of the columns of cave 2. 
 Images of Buddha are placed in the exquisite 
 shrine and along the walls where monks, students 
 and novices stood together in prayer. In the 
 centre of the stupa Buddha sits on a throne with 
 lions upholding the seat, and his feet resting on a 
 lotus flower borne by two small figures of snake 
 kings. 
 
 oO 193 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 The aisle walls, instead of being painted, were 
 covered with huge sculptures, among which is a 
 beautiful figure of the dying Buddha, more than 
 twenty-three feet long, reminding one of the 
 fifth century image. It seems that portraying a 
 subject in so huge a piece of stone was no more 
 difficult to these artists than carving upon wax. 
 The cot on which the figure lies, the pillow at his 
 head and the water pot by his side are just such 
 as can be found anywhere to-day in India. 
 Above and below the dying master are hundreds of | 
 natural-sized figures of sorrow-stricken monks 
 erieving over the Nirvana of Buddha. 
 
 On the left side of the cave is another huge 
 bas-relief, representing the temptation of Buddha 
 by Mara the wicked one, such as is painted in 
 cave l. 
 
 Here, in this last group of caves, including 
 Number 26, sculpture took a more prominent place 
 than painting, for it always happens that painting 
 appears in the world earlier than sculpture. 
 
 A very great many inscriptions are found in 
 this temple. On the front is a string of praises of 
 the Sugatas or Buddhists and of Bhabiraja, the 
 minister of Asmakaraza, and of his son Debaraja, 
 who constructed the temple. Then, over the 
 right side door are twenty-seven lines in Sanskrit 
 verse, and with the exception of flaws in the first 
 
 194 
 

 
 INTERIOR OF CAVE 26. 
 

 
 PIELAKSSO 
 
 
 
 THE LEFT OF CAVE 26. 
 
My Last Days at Ajanta 
 
 and in some of the lower lines, it is fairly legible. 
 The alphabet is similar to that used in cave 17. 
 Some of the inscription reads like this :—- 
 
 
 
 THE TEMPTATION OF BUDDHA 
 
 “This temple is established for the welfare 
 (of people in a hill ?), tuneful with the notes of 
 various birds, and whose caves are filled with the 
 sounds of cow-tails (chauris) .... and which 
 is inhabited by the Yogisvaras . . . . The same 
 agerieved Acharya having taken over the anxiety 
 of the people regarding the Sugata.... ” 
 
 195 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 And one on a plinth under the feet of a tall 
 standing Buddha on the left of the facade reads :— 
 
 ‘The Sakya Vikshu, the Bhadanta Guna- 
 kara’s meritorious gift, may, whatever merit is in 
 this be for the attainment of supreme knowledge 
 by all sentient beings, mother and father being 
 first.”’ 
 
 And again: “ The smallest virtue resulting in 
 good cannot be accomplished. while engaged in 
 worldly affairs. The result of the actions of 
 sages who are exalted by virtue tends to the 
 enjoyment of happiness by the people.” 
 
 This chaitya-temple was one of the last exe- 
 cuted caves at Ajanta, and elaborate work was 
 expended upon it in order to give weight and 
 grandeur, as in the last chord struck on a musical 
 instrument. 
 
 Left of 26,is the last accessible bihara, Number 
 27. The whole front is broken away, with huge 
 rocks on the ground and blocking the entrance, 
 and so making a comfortable home for tigers. 
 
 It measures about forty-four feet wide and 
 thirty-one feet long ; but has never been finished. 
 Inside are a few cells. It has no pillars. Next 
 to this, high up in the scarp of the rock, a fifth 
 chaitya was begun, but never finished. It is now 
 known as cave 28, and lies high up in the rock 
 between caves 21 and 22. 
 
 196 
 
My Last Days at Ajanta 
 
 Number 29 is the last in the western hill, just 
 as Number 1 is the last in the eastern hill. It is 
 inaccessible; only part of the baranda of it was 
 ever completed. 
 
 The ground for the wall painting was prepared 
 by mixing clay, cow dung, husks and little stones 
 together and laid on the rough surface of the rock, 
 sometimes an inch or more thick. Over this 
 was a white coating made of shell lime. The lime 
 is soaked in water for twenty-two days, until it 
 loses its stiffness and becomes a clay. It is laid 
 on with about the consistency of an egg shell. 
 
 I had made over twelve large copies from the 
 wall paintings, and I wished I could stay there 
 much longer, but things were becoming less 
 favourable every day, and I felt, even if I could 
 stay fifty years in the caves of Ajanta, I would 
 not be able to accomplish all that I wished 
 to do. 
 
 It was becoming impossible to stay at Ajanta, 
 as provisions and money had run short. Buddhu 
 Miya was still with me, faithful unto the end, and 
 I had found him a good companion. Singing 
 morning praises to Allah, he would suddenly 
 break off to shout: ‘‘ Khana, khana, breakfast 
 is ready,” and then, while we ate he would listen 
 with an appearance of interest while I talked of 
 my work, although he did not understand its 
 
 197 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 importance. And then he used to say : “‘ Sahib, 
 you are the sun of the hills.”’ 
 
 When he knew the exact day in early January, 
 1920, on which I intended to quit the caves he 
 informed his family, and they all, wife, sons and 
 daughters, saw me off to Pahur. I felt rather 
 sad as I saw the bullock cart with my copies 
 slowly preceding me; through the gorge the 
 mountains rose beside my track. Monkeys 
 chattered in the trees and peacocks screamed just 
 as they did when I arrived and always will do. 
 Banjari women moved gracefully along the road, 
 singing; and I set out for the caves of Bagh. 
 
 198 
 

 

 
 S, BY THE RIVER BAGHMATT. 
 
 OD 
 Iw) 
 
 IN FRONT OF BAGH CAV 
 
 
 
 N THE BAGH HILLS. 
 
 AIN CAVE I 
 
 M 
 
 THE 
 
CHAPTER THIRTEEN 
 MY PILGRIMAGE TO BAGH 
 
 In all the Indian Empire there are only three 
 places where the wonderful Buddhist wall paint- 
 ings are still in existence; first the well-known 
 eaves of Ajanta in the Dekkan, about three hun- 
 dred miles east of Bombay; secondly, the Bagh 
 caves in Gwalior State, in the district of Malwa, 
 over two hundred and fifty miles north of Ajanta; 
 and thirdly, the caves of Sigiria and at a place 
 called Tamankaduwa in the Island of Ceylon. 
 
 The first and last of these caves are well 
 known, by repute at least, to the world, and Bagh, 
 though less known, contains specimens of sculp- 
 ture and painting which, although fewer, are as 
 interesting as those at Ajanta. Enough of these 
 ancient masterpieces are left to inspire a great 
 Indian Academy of Art. 
 
 Recently we have heard that another group of 
 Buddhist caves containing frescoes has been 
 discovered by a shepherd boy, about thirty miles 
 away from the French Pondicherry, in South 
 India, but unfortunately we do not yet know all 
 the details of its discovery. 
 
 Having spent many months copying the fres- 
 
 199 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 coes on the Ajanta walls, in the middle of January, 
 1920, I set out for the caves of Bagh with a knap- 
 sack on my back and a roll of paper in my hand, 
 to make drawings, but for only a few days. 
 
 This time I went quite alone, not taking even a 
 servant with me. From the junction of Bhusaval, 
 where I took in a last small stock of tinned tongue 
 and beans, the train cut through rocks and mile 
 after mile of wooded hills and, having crossed one 
 of the longest bridges in the world, over the great 
 River Narmada, it brought me in the afternoon 
 to Mhow, the nearest railway station to the caves, | 
 which are, however, over one hundred miles distant. 
 
 The small town of Mhow is on the way to 
 Indore. It contains the British cantonment and 
 boasts a motor bus service of one bus only, which 
 runs once every day to a big village called Dhar, 
 about thirty-four miles distant, returning at night. 
 This bus is made to carry twenty people, who 
 sit in rows facing the engine, as in a charabanc. 
 I had reason to regret that there was no upper 
 deck for passengers. A much greater number 
 than the bus could carry had gathered together, 
 squatting beside their boxes and bundles, utensils 
 and hookahs, five or six hours before the bus was 
 due to start. There was a fight to get on the bus, 
 and nothing but my European suit of clothes 
 helped me to win the seat next to the driver. 
 
 200 
 
My Pilgrimage to Bagh 
 
 _ It was a glowing sunny afternoon in January. 
 The vehicle did not travel fast like a London bus, 
 but faster than a bullock cart or a tanga, and this 
 pace was very delightful to us as we sat looking 
 around idly at the dark green debadar trees, the 
 small clay huts and the deep blue sky towards the 
 east. | 
 
 Some of the passengers inside chatted to one 
 another all the time, but I could not understand 
 anything they said, their tongue being absolutely 
 strange to me, while others sat chewing little 
 rods of sugar-cane and smoking their hookahs, 
 lost in thought. 
 
 The bus stopped about eleven miles from Mhow, 
 near a clean-looking white dak bungalow and the 
 villagers rushed out to see this novel conveyance. 
 We got down, and as we lingered maidens in gay 
 dress with red, blue, green and yellow skirts, 
 drew their evening water in pitchers from the well 
 and poured some of it, cold and clear, into the 
 screwed-up palms of our hands. Then the front 
 of the bus was opened and buckets of water 
 splashed into the radiator, which had grown too 
 hot. Men, women and children watched with 
 eager and friendly curiosity. 
 
 Refreshed, we climbed into our seats and pro- 
 ceeded on the journey, with eyes directed towards 
 the setting sun, which in colour was a blend of 
 
 201 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 red and rich gold, like the deep-hued yolk ofa 
 brown egg. 
 
 All that glorious and mysterious evening the 
 bus carried me farther and farther into the un- 
 known land. Movement, colour and sound were 
 exquisitely mingled. To the west lay the faint 
 blue Bindhya ranges, outlined against a soft gold 
 sky. Dust ascended slowly into the still air as 
 the cattle passed with a tinkling of bells and the 
 notes of a reed-pipe which the herd-boy played as 
 he sat huddled on the ox’s back. One heard also 
 the sudden scampering of the animals to the road- 
 side. The birds clamoured for the cosiest position 
 on the branch for the night’s rest. Temple bells 
 rang out in the distance and women blew on their 
 econch-shells to announce the approach of night. 
 Kiverything fell quiet and sombre as the deep blue 
 night stole on. — 
 
 Now appeared clusters of houses with a red- 
 flamed light here and there at windows and doors, 
 and a passenger or two left the bus as he reached 
 the neighbourhood of his dwelling. The sky 
 above grew heavy with stars; down below the 
 trees full of glow-worms exhibited their rounded 
 forms along the roadside in lovely illumination. 
 
 A peculiar burning smell roused me to look 
 across the fields, and I saw flames jumping up and 
 down at irregular distances, and every time they 
 
 202 
 
My Pilgrimage to Bagh 
 
 sprang up they revealed to us in yet a fresh spot 
 a group of villagers taking their ease around a 
 smouldering heap of rubbish, the ashes from which 
 would fertilise the field. At about eight or nine 
 o'clock, away on the right, I saw the brick palace 
 of the Raja of Dhar. Gorgeous guards with guns 
 and spears were pacing around its walls and gates. 
 
 We drove through the quiet streets shaded by 
 huge grandfatherly banyan and ashath trees with 
 knotted trunks and luxuriant foliage, where birds, 
 monkeys and tiny creatures love to sleep and 
 play. Then a few people began to pass us on the 
 road, and, at length, we reached the dak bun- 
 galow at Dhar, white-washed as all Indian dak 
 bungalows are. 
 
 I descended, and entering a room, called for a 
 servant and asked for a hot bath and a good meal. 
 But, it seemed to me presently, as I began to 
 prepare for a bath, that Bengali babus were 
 everywhere, for I now heard a discussion about 
 me in Bengali language. A little later I came 
 upon three or four young gentlemen vigorously 
 feasting on chicken curry and chops, which they, 
 being Hindus, would not be allowed at home. 
 Their presence mystified me until I learnt that as 
 Bengalis are in the habit of working for other 
 people, they were doing such things as teaching 
 the Dhar Raja’s daughters, managing his estates 
 
 203 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 and looking after the Post Office Department. 
 They were interested to hear of my journey to 
 Bagh, and one of them grew intensely excited 
 and wanted to come with me, because near to 
 Bagh is a great lake in which for a long time he 
 had cherished the ambition to fish. So now he 
 would get a chance to catch fine fish while I 
 worked in the caves. But in the end he was 
 afraid to come, and all the babus tried to dissuade 
 me also from the dangerous and uncertain 
 expedition. 
 
 I did not know, but as soon as the bus arrived 
 at Dhar the mail tanga left, which goes towards 
 Bagh, and to have gone cheaply and in company 
 I should have had to have waited till the next 
 night for the mail-tanga. But I was anxious to 
 be off that same night, so it was necessary for 
 me to procure a tanga; a jatra tamasha, however, 
 was taking place in the village. ‘° Tamasha ” 
 means “ great fun,’’ and “‘ jatra,’’ open-air music, 
 singing, dancing, drinking and smoking. To 
 this entertainment all the men of the town had 
 gone, and from it nothing could draw them away. 
 But fortunately the Bengali gentleman, who was 
 the Dhar Raja’s Naeb-bahadur or manager, told 
 me of some men who would go with me to find 
 some conveyance, and particularly one tanga 
 ‘man who was well known as the last resource in 
 
 emergency. 
 204 
 
My Pilgrimage to Bagh 
 
 We knocked at a little mud hut till a woman 
 woke up from her sleep, and jangling her bangles 
 came to the door and told us that her husband was 
 elsewhere, and when we got there we found he had 
 gone; however, we tracked him to the Jatra per- 
 formance where he sat quietly smoking and lis- 
 tening in the middle of a great torch-lit crowd. 
 
 Many people here do not know about Bagh, 
 but they have heard of a small town, Kukshi, 
 farther on; so this man, when we mentioned the 
 name of the Naeb-bahadur, arranged to take me 
 about thirty miles to a village along the road to 
 Kukshi for twenty rupees or so. 
 
 Within an hour he came to the bungalow and I 
 got into the tanga, softened at the bottom with a 
 pile of straw and dry hay, which the driver took 
 for the horses. We started off on the long road 
 between big trees to Bagh. After passing the 
 village of Dhar the land lay bare, except for a few 
 small villages here and there, and stretched away 
 indefinitely beneath the immense crowded sky, 
 that throbbed with its load of orderly stars. 
 Such country and space enriches the mind and 
 broadens the soul. There was no sound nor move- 
 ment, nothing save a jackal’s occasional howl and 
 the swift cautious run of a fat-tailed fox across 
 the road. My tanga man told me that a jackal 
 or fox passing on the left side of a man while 
 
 205 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 journeying brought him good luck. This super- 
 stition encouraged me, and wrapping the blanket 
 closer round me, for the cold was of the kind 
 that penetrates to one’s bones, I fell asleep 
 fearlessly. 
 
 Suddenly I woke up in the middle of a river to 
 find the horses sturdily dragging us across while 
 the tanga bumped upon the rocky river-bed. 
 After this I dozed until there came a shout of 
 ** Hai, hai, hai! What are you doing? Where 
 are you going ?”? and my man shouted back: 
 ‘“* Hai, what’s the matter with you? . We’re 
 going to Bagh, Bagh, Kukshi.” : 
 
 “You can’t go there now, it’s too late; you 
 must wait till morning.” I guessed what they 
 were saying, so I grumbled and shouted. Then 
 two men looked into the tanga and I immediately 
 flashed out a torch-light on their faces, which 
 dazzled them, but when they saw my topi and 
 thick overcoat, they seemed astonished and 
 frightened, and slunk back into a thatched hut 
 at the wayside. They may have been simply 
 chowkidars or customs’ men, but I rather thought 
 they had seen the mail-tanga pass and were 
 minded to rob some stray traveller at that hour 
 of night. So we quickly whipped up the horses 
 and I shouted “jaldi chalo, jaldi chalo,” [go 
 quickly] and escaped from that danger. 
 
 206 
 
My Pilgrimage to Bagh 
 
 At dawn the tanga-man, the two horses and I 
 were still trying to cast aside our sleepy weariness, 
 when we came upon a large river-side village, 
 which roused us into morning’s natural activity. 
 The people were washing right down at the 
 water’s edge and taking their time over the 
 scrupulous cleaning of their faces, and some were 
 bathing. A few men sitting solitary on a boulder 
 a little way out in the river were steadily brushing 
 their teeth with bits of twig which they broke 
 off nim trees overhanging the banks, for the 
 bitter nim juice is good for teeth. Women, 
 wading up to their knees, and carefully drawing 
 up their skirts, dispersed the floating dirt and 
 then dipped in their pitchers. In the village 
 were a number of small shops and there the people 
 who had travelled by the tanga which accom- 
 pannied the mail were sitting idly, because their 
 tanga-man had died that night and they could go 
 no farther until the next day. But I wanted to 
 get to Bagh and so, after much enquiry, found a 
 Mahomedan so strong and big as quite to frighten 
 me, who was willing to drive me if I paid him 
 well. 
 
 Under the trees, as we went, were vermillion 
 painted stone gods and goddesses, put there by 
 the Hindu people of this part. They made the 
 Mahomedan very angry and, thinking me a 
 
 207 
 
My Pulgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 Christian, he cursed the Hindus all the way. He 
 drove me swiftly to a village ten miles off, 
 changed horses with a Hindu, and calling him 
 ‘* sreat badmash ”’ drove me on again. 
 
 Now the land became mountainous and wooded, 
 the haunts of Koles and Bhils, a wild and fierce 
 tribe, the aborigines. I had glimpses of rough 
 tree-branch huts and often caught sigh of low 
 carts with small, solid wheels, drawn by one 
 bullock and laden with wood. Once I was 
 astonished to see how the golden-coloured man 
 and woman walking beside a cart resembled the 
 figures I had seen in the Ajanta frescoes of the 
 earlier period ; the woman had a sharp nose and 
 long, fine arched eyebrows over lovely dark eyes, 
 and the man’s curly hair was encircled by a band 
 of palm-tree leaves and flowers. 
 
 The road went winding up and up, and then 
 fell steeply ; rise followed on fall indefinitely. 
 At length, as cautiously we came down a slope 
 and reached level ground, the tanga jerked and 
 the horses began to go backwards, for there 
 across the road, with the appearance as I thought 
 at first of a crack in the parched ground, was a 
 great brown, double-faced snake, which had 
 stopped to listen in the middle of its tacking 
 across the road. I wanted to kill it; but the 
 Mussulman driver would not let me; he clapped 
 
 208 
 
My Pilgrimage to Bagh 
 
 his hands, and shouted until the snake glided 
 slowly out of the way to the jungle. 
 
 Down in the valley to which we now came ran 
 a river, overhung by trees whose boughs met 
 together. We got down and let loose the horses 
 to drink, the tanga-driver ate his fried rice and 
 corn, and I opened for myself a tin of tongue to 
 eat with my last piece of loaf. After this short 
 halt we went on again, and presently came up 
 with a man walking with a little baggage and 
 with a gun in his hand. I grew interested at 
 seeing a gun, and when I heard he wanted to reach 
 Kukshi I invited him into the tanga. It was 
 nice to have a companion, especially one who told 
 stories. He said he always carried a gun to make 
 Bhils afraid of throwing arrows. He told me that 
 a few years ago one Bhil was so outrageous in his 
 daring that the Government offered a large sum 
 of money to whoever would capture him, dead or 
 alive. The reward tempted no one, but at 
 length, quite by chance, an officer caught him by 
 the hand, and as he was wrenching himself free 
 cut off his hand, which he brought to the gover- 
 nors, and received the reward, but never got the 
 Bhil. 
 
 The Bhils, he told me, are extremely dexterous 
 with their bows, for, seeing a traveller coming 
 along the road, they will let fly an arrow and cut 
 
 P 209 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 off a nose or ear without the man realising from 
 whence the arrow comes. He, terrified, naturally 
 enough, at this assault from an unseen enemy, 
 is anxious only to fly, and drops all the baggage 
 he may be carrying. 
 
 My companion entertained me with many such 
 stories all the way to the next village, which we 
 reached in the afternoon. 
 
 In this village—the name of which I forget, 
 but I think it was Sardapur—the very poor 
 peasants live in a row of ten or twelve mud houses, 
 together with their pigs, calves, goats and don- 
 keys. Some of the huts were also used as shops 
 for selling food, pottery and lacquer bangles. 
 There was also a smithy with two tanga-horses 
 waiting to be shod, and a tanner who sold skins 
 for drums, bellows and water-bags. Looking at 
 this village, one could imagine just how it must 
 have been thousands of years ago. 
 
 I had the good fortune to find the mail-tanga 
 kept back by its horses wanting new shoes. Two 
 passengers were already seated ; I made the third, 
 and we travelled on to Bagh. 
 
 The afternoon soon passed, the sun was setting 
 and the jagged scenery giving way to gentle 
 ereen and damp forest land, when the tanga- 
 man first began to mutter: “ Bagh is not very 
 far now, not very far,” and at last we arrived in 
 
 210 
 
My Pilgrimage to Bagh 
 
 the village surrounded by a thick forest. Bagh is 
 about eight hundred and fifty feet above sea 
 level, situated in a pleasant valley extending 
 north and south three miles by an average 
 breadth of one mile, and at the foot of a low 
 range of hills of the southern slope of the Bindha 
 ranges, about a hundred feet high, which form 
 the western boundary. So fertile is it with 
 banyan trees, papaya, mango, bamboo, sal and 
 banana, that I was reminded of a Bengal village, 
 and it was as startling to me to find this green 
 valley plumped down in the middle of such arid 
 country as it is to a traveller in the desert to come 
 upon an oasis. 
 
 At length we drove up to a brick and stone 
 slab lime-white washed, which stood up among 
 rows of bamboo bushes. It was distinguished 
 by the symbolical sign of the Hindu Gwalior 
 State, two fine black cobras enclosing a crude 
 outline drawing of sun with eyes, nose and mouth 
 painted upon it, and below— 
 
 Bacau Insrection BuNGALOW 
 
 was written in English, Hindustani and Mussul- 
 mani (Urdu) languages. Perhaps I can_ best 
 convey its appearance by saying that it resembled 
 most closely a typical English war memorial tablet. 
 
 So, after a long non-stop journey from Mhow, 
 
 211 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 through the town of Dhar and over the Tanda 
 Ghats, having spent the night in a tanga, crossing 
 fields, forests and a great mountainous tract, 
 not without perils from tigers, snakes and foot- 
 pads, I had finally arrived at Bagh Inspection 
 Bungalow. 
 
 I entered and ordered a meal and a bath, and 
 while the Mussulman cook and his wife were 
 cooking the one and heating the other, and 
 although night was already coming on, I took 
 the bungalow gardener and started off in the 
 direction of the caves, so excited was I to catch 
 just a glimpse of them before going to bed in 
 peace. 
 
 We hastened along the road to the caves; two 
 or three times I was carried on the broad back 
 of my servant across the Baghmati river. But 
 we did not get as far as the cave, for night was 
 upon us, and my gardener-guide pointed out a 
 low range of hills and said: “‘ There are the Panch 
 Pandu; but, Sab, we must return, for snakes and 
 tigers are already out.” The caves are known 
 to people in general as the Bagh caves on account 
 of the closeness to the village Bagh, but locally 
 they are called Panch Pandu. 
 
 When I had returned to the bungalow I ate 
 lentils and chapati and went early to bed, think- 
 ing how glad I was to have at last reached Bagh ; 
 
 212 
 
My Pilgrimage to Bagh 
 
 and how different the people of the Narmada 
 Valley through which I had passed, including 
 Bagh itself, where food, servants and friendli- 
 ness could be found, at least to a certain extent, 
 were from those of Ajanta, in the terrible Dekkan 
 land near the Tapti Valley, who would do nothing 
 at all for a traveller, not even give him food. 
 
 The next morning I woke up early and wanted 
 to get hold of some men to go with me at once to 
 the caves; but the chowkidar told me that the 
 coolies who are usually willing to do any work 
 olfered do not come out of their houses and look 
 for work until rather later on in the morning, and 
 so, to pass away the time, I had a general look 
 round. The garden of this bungalow was full 
 of karabi flowers, and gandha-raj, bela, jasmin, 
 which are the flowers that so profusely bloom in 
 Bengal, as well as fruits, mangoes, bales, papayas, 
 atas and rich pomegranates. 
 
 On the right of the main road, on the top of the 
 hill, was a ruined red stone and brick fort, which 
 was built by a Hindu king many years ago to safe- 
 guard the village from invaders rushing in from 
 the north or west. The ascent to it is by a small, 
 very steep footpath. The whole village now 
 contains from about four to five hundred houses, 
 within the compass of a low mud and stone wall 
 which runs round the northern and part of the 
 
 213 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 western edges of this hill; but it is said that in 
 the olden days Bagh possessed between two and 
 three thousand houses. Lying, as it does, on 
 the great broad ancient road which runs down 
 from the north and passes southwards through 
 Ajanta on to the Dekkan and thence downwards, 
 it was once, no doubt, of great importance, 
 especially between the fourth and seventh cen- 
 turies A.D., when Buddhism in this part of India 
 was at the height of its glory. Several local 
 scholars of this faith: Dharma-Rakhya, Guna- 
 Vadra, Paramartha, and Atigupta, of Ujjain 
 between the fifth and seventh centuries a.pD. all 
 visited China to exchange ideas and preach and 
 study the Buddhist law, while the great Buddhist 
 Chinese scholars and pilgrims, Heuen Tsang, 
 Fa-heen and Hsuan Tai came to visit Central 
 and Western India about the same time. 
 
 In the sixth, seventh and eighth centuries, 
 however, Hun kings swarmed across Asia into 
 Western India, fighting and destroying wherever 
 they went. Mussulman invasions were also con- 
 tinual; so that by the tenth century Buddhism 
 was driven out and utterly crushed and, con- 
 sequently, the Bagh caves became deserted. 
 Hindu Brahminism now spread over the land, 
 and since that date the people of Bagh and the 
 villages around have nearly all been Hindus. 
 
 214 
 
My Pilgrimage to Bagh 
 
 About five hundred years ago the ambition 
 of chiefs of the villages around Bagh to be lords 
 of the land resulted in a quarter of a century of 
 anarchy, in which Bagh was devastated and 
 desolated. Then it arose once more to some 
 importance through becoming more than two 
 hundred years ago the occasional residence of 
 Jhasu Bomeah, a celebrated freebooter, who 
 possessed himself of the Kotra district, and who 
 built as places of security for his followers and 
 plunder the forts of Soosaree, Bagh and Kukshi. 
 
 Jhasu Bomeah became by his bold depre- 
 dations, which extended not only into Malwa but 
 even to the Dekkan and Guzrat, so formidable as 
 to excite the serious attention of the Maratta 
 princes. He was besieged by a large army during 
 forty days in the fort of Kukshi, at the end of 
 which period, finding the place no longer tenable, 
 he made his escape to Bagh. To this last place 
 he was pursued and again besieged; but, not 
 being able to make a stand, he retired to the 
 mountains, from which period nothing further 
 of himis known. His country was divided among 
 the conquerors, Bagh with its dependent villages 
 falling to the share of the Maharaja of Sindhia 
 ‘in the eighteenth century, who used to manage 
 it by deputy, and later it became included in the 
 Gwalior State, to which it still belongs. 
 
 215 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 These caves became known to the officials some 
 hundred years ago as an especial abode of tigers, 
 but to-day, strange to say, Bagh, which means 
 * tiger,” is more famed to the natives for its 
 pottery and lacquer bangles than for the fact 
 that it is close to the great Buddhist temples. 
 
 By about nine o’clock the same morning I had 
 collected two men from the village and we started 
 for the caves. Between the village and the caves 
 —a distance of about four miles—is an open 
 jungle with level fields of dwarf cypress and date 
 bushes, and babla looking like mimosa, but full of 
 thorns. Nim and jambu trees grow here and there 
 along the banks of the boulder-strewn Baghmati 
 river. The river wriggles snake-like through the 
 fields, and we had to cross it three or four times 
 on our way to the caves. A few villages were 
 dotted about, consisting sometimes of only three 
 or four huts, which are inhabited by the Koles, 
 Bhils and other hairy, half-clothed itinerant 
 tribes who live by shooting game with their primi- 
 tive bows and arrows and by cutting wood, which 
 they sell in the market. 
 
 Before the advent of the Rajputs, the Bhils were 
 the ruling race in Western India; but about 
 three or four hundred years ago they became a 
 despised, outcast, fierce people, who wandered 
 apart from the rest of mankind. 
 
 216 
 
My Pilgrimage to Bagh 
 
 To-day they are more peaceable and show less 
 suspicion of civilisation, but they are still like 
 delightful children who do not want to work, but 
 prefer rather to adorn their arms and legs with 
 bangles and dance with their whole might to the 
 drum and the cymbal. 
 
 My brother artist, Suren Kar, told me the 
 story of the following incident that occurred 
 while he, among other artists, was staying at 
 Bagh. At the approach of the spring festival, 
 the head man of the village gave a free-drink 
 dancing party to the villagers. They became 
 wildly excited and danced round the fire far into 
 the moonlit night, waving their spears and 
 swords in the dark night sky, and playing drums 
 all the time. Suddenly there was a cry and much 
 shouting, saying: ‘‘ Hai, Hai! Patle Baba’s head 
 lies on the ground, Patle Baba’s head lies on the 
 eround.’”’ These people were so wild as not to 
 mind chopping off the head of a neighbour when 
 inflamed by the dance. 
 
 To save themselves from starvation, however, 
 these Bhils will sometimes condescend to doing 
 a little work, and that must have been why I was 
 able to coax four men who, with the other two, 
 marched single file across the fields, carrying my 
 ladders, water jug, oil lamp, drinking water and 
 drawing materials. 
 
 217 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 We presently saw far away before us a deep 
 hole in the hillside through the dark green trees 
 in front, and my companion said: “ That is 
 Gonsaiji’s Gumpha,” which means the _ holy 
 father’s cave house. Then we came right up to 
 the foot of the hill, and there, exactly in front of 
 the caves, was running the same little Baghmati 
 river in which the pilgrims used to wash their 
 hands and feet before visiting the sacred monas- 
 teries. Cypress bushes had grown thick here, 
 and many kinds of trees, thick-leaved and 
 shadowy, were stretching their roots luxuriously 
 in the clear, cool, lovely water. 
 
 No water-tank is found in the rock at Bagh as 
 at Ajanta and the other excavated caves of 
 India, and this at first seems a little strange; but 
 since this river, just below the caves, flows for 
 about nine months of the year, evidently it 
 served as a water-supply for the monks who, for 
 the remaining three months, could get almost 
 perfectly-filtered water by digging in the sandy 
 banks. 
 
 Immediately after crossing this river we came 
 to a level plain, and then we climbed a flight of 
 seventy rudely-formed stone steps which led to 
 the sombre mouth of the caves, which we had 
 seen from far away in the field. As I approached 
 I saw a wonderful sight: flocks of wild doves, 
 
 218 
 
My Pilgrimage to Bagh 
 
 green parrots and hundreds of monkeys and 
 squirrels were collected round a slender nude 
 figure, with long unkempt hair and body rough 
 and grey with ash-dust, sitting cross-legged and 
 immobile, a yogi, or holy man, known as Gonsai 
 Babaji. His disciple had left his food of milk, 
 sweetmeats and fruits in front of him, and the 
 birds and monkeys were eating it, but as soon 
 as they saw me the monkeys each picked up two 
 crammed handfuls of the food, and swung them- 
 selves into the great nim trees and jumped from 
 top to top, chattering, howling and whooping, 
 and the birds reluctantly flew away. 
 
 The poor simple villagers gave this holy father 
 sweetmeats and money because they looked upon 
 him as the great protector of the villagers of Bagh. 
 He remained day and night outside the entrance, 
 but his predecessors had penetrated inside this 
 cave and had ruined the paintings by smoke and 
 fire. 
 
 The hill in which the caves have been excavated 
 runs parallel to the little river Baghmati. The 
 lower half is sloping, but steep; the upper, per- 
 pendicular, composed entirely of horizontal strata 
 of sandstone and claystone alternating with each 
 . other; it is a peculiar rock, quite distinct from 
 the volcanic rocks in the neighbourhood and was 
 used for smelting iron until foreign competition 
 
 219 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 killed the industry. The sandstone contains a 
 large amount of clay, and is coloured with oxide 
 of iron, varying from deep red to perfect white. 
 With its colour vary also its hardness and the 
 fineness of its grain, the dark red being fine- 
 grained and tolerably hard, the white coarse- 
 grained and so soft as to be able to be rubbed to 
 pieces between the fingers, and containing many 
 organic impressions. Different shades of the red 
 sandstone occupy the upper or perpendicular part 
 of the hill with thin layers of the claystone inter- 
 posed. 
 
 The caves occupy the centre of the hill, com- 
 mencing at its perpendicular part. It is through 
 the lower half of the caves, for about six feet 
 from their floor, that the stratum of white sand- 
 stone runs; this, however, reposes on the old 
 red sandstone. The upper part of the caves is 
 mostly formed of the light red sandstone. 
 
 Superimposed on this sandstone is a deep stra- 
 tum of white clay or claystone, in places fully 
 twenty feet in depth, and it is evidently owing to 
 the absorbent and retentive power of this clay 
 and the weight as well as the destructive effect 
 of the water in it, that such immense flaky masses 
 of the roofs and barandas have been loosened 
 and fallen. This does not seem to have acted 
 on all the caves alike, both on account of the 
 
 220 
 
My Pilgrimage to Bagh 
 
 unequal depth of the clay and the texture of the 
 underlying stone, which seems to be most com- 
 pact in the first cave, hence its preservation, 
 but, while the most southerly has suffered most, 
 the damage and injury the caves have sustained 
 is to be attributed to variations in the strata of 
 stone and clay. 
 
 The hill runs north-east and south-west, and 
 the caves face north-west, so that never at any 
 time do they receive the sunlight full on them, 
 but in the evening they are lit quite considerably 
 by the rays of the setting sun. This is the case 
 with almost all Indian cave excavations. 
 
 The caves are fully exposed, unfortunately, 
 to weather of all kinds, as in many caves the 
 barandas have broken away altogether; the 
 jungle has grown thickly in front, and boulders 
 and debris have collected to a considerable height; 
 while, from very ancient times the caves have 
 been frequented by tigers, hyenas, jackals, snakes, 
 monkeys, wild boars, cobra and pythons, which 
 abound and wander freely in and out of the 
 caves, and therefore the villagers in the neigh- 
 bourhood are terrified to visit them; but in 
 spite of all these perils, just as at Ajanta, a 
 fair is held once a year in the winter, down by 
 the river Baghmati. 
 
 There are about nine caves in all, each one a 
 
 221 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 bihara, for, curiously, there are no chaityas in 
 this series. The excavation of these temples 
 took place in about the fifth century a.p. Many 
 of them are now fallen in altogether and are in a 
 ruined condition. 
 
 These caves were not all excavated at one 
 time, but no doubt they were all done between 
 the fourth and sixth centuries. About one 
 thousand feet to the left of the steps leading 
 to cave 2 is a small bihara cave, most likely 
 excavated after all the others in the series; 
 but as it is at one end, we shall call it Number 1. 
 
 In front is a little baranda, the pillars of 
 which have fallen away. There is a single 
 entrance and no windows. The portico which 
 once stood in front of the door is now utterly 
 destroyed. The interior is an absolutely plain 
 room, twenty-three feet wide, having no cells, 
 sanctuary, statue or painting, and it was 
 therefore most probably a dwelling house for 
 the head priest of its neighbour, cave 2. The 
 four pillars are much worn away and the roof 
 they support might at any moment collapse. 
 
 On the way to the second cave on the right are 
 sions of excavation in the face of the rock; but 
 they are so blocked up with debris that it is very 
 difficult to know whether they denote the actual 
 remains of a cave or only the commencement. 
 
 222 
 

 
 PEASANT WOMEN CARRYING MEALS TO THEIR MEN IN THE FIELDS. 
 
 
 
 THE JUNGLE VILLAGE NEAR BAGH, WHERE I SLEPT. 
 

 
 ENTRANCE TO CAVE 2, BAGH. 
 
 
 
 CAVE 5, BAGH. 
 SHOWING HOW THE WHOLE OF BARANDA HAS FALLEN IN FRONT OF THE ENTRANCE. 
 
My Pilgrimage to Bagh 
 
 Then we come to cave 2, excavated about 
 the fifth century A.D., which is usually the first 
 entered, being led up to by the flight of ancient 
 steps. This is the ‘“ Gonshai Gumpha”’ which 
 can be seen from afar off in the fields as a dark 
 hole in the red sandstone hill piercing the thick 
 EPOCH. < - 
 
 Outside the cave is a small landing place 
 overhung by the hill, which is here at its greatest 
 height of one hundred and fifty feet. Hvidently 
 this once formed a baranda supported by columns, 
 but now it is an utter ruin, heaped into great 
 mounds nearly as high as the cave, leaving a 
 pathway up to the door, and planed and plas- 
 tered with cow-dung, so as to form a high seat 
 for the Sadhu. The plastered front of the cave 
 and fragments among the ruin give evidence 
 that the baranda was once decorated. A por- 
 tico originally protected the entrance; but 
 that too has fallen in, scarcely a trace remaining. 
 
 At each end of the baranda is a small recess ; 
 that on the right contains a very modern figure 
 of Ganesh, the Hindu God of Luck, usurping 
 the place of the earliest figure of Buddha, which 
 is shown to have been there originally by the 
 Buddhistical emblems of flying figures holding 
 garlands, such as are often found on the walls 
 at Ajanta. 
 
 223 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 On entering, one is startled to see lighting 
 the approach, an old city street lamp stuck up 
 on a wobbley post. Behind, on the wall, the 
 Sadhu has scratched in vermilion the marks of 
 large trisulas, the signs of a Siba worshipper. 
 
 Inside the cave you are impressed with gloomy 
 erandeur; it is not, however, till you have been 
 a few seconds in it that you perceive its great 
 extent. The open area of this cave is a regular 
 square, measuring eighty-four feet each side. 
 Its height is fourteen feet and a half. The 
 roof is supported by four ranges of massive 
 columns; the two centre ones being round; 
 those at the right and left are square at the 
 base, but at the heights of five and eight feet 
 formed into hexagons and dodecagons. 
 
 The paintings on the walls and ceilings of 
 the cave have been terribly injured by the 
 smoke and soot from the fires of the holy fathers, 
 who have lived there for centuries. But, in 
 spite of this, were an artist to take sufficient 
 trouble, he would be sure to discover some 
 wonderful paintings unknown to the _ world, 
 for many traces are still to be found on the 
 dark walls and ceilings. Those on the roof, 
 are chiefly beautiful decorative diagonal designs 
 In square compartments of about one foot, 
 containing elephants, buffaloes, birds, fruit and 
 
 224 
 
My Pilgrimage to Bagh 
 
 flowers. The grotesque dwarf figures, male and 
 female, of tribute bearers, resemble the sculp- 
 tured figures in old English churches, especially 
 I noticed those in Wells Cathedral, in Somer- 
 setshire. 
 
 Passing between the centre range of columns 
 to the end of the cave, you enter an oblong 
 recess or baranda, measuring twenty feet by 
 twelve, open in front towards the cave and 
 supported by two hexagonal columns. In 
 niches, on the remaining three sides of this 
 apartment, figures are carved in bold relief— 
 Buddha and his disciples. 
 
 From this recess, you pass at the back through 
 a small doorway and enter an inner apartment 
 measuring twenty feet by seventeen, in the 
 centre of which, cut out of the solid rock, is 
 what the natives term ‘ The Churn,” or stupa, 
 being a regular hexagon of three feet three 
 inches each side, surmounted by a plain dome 
 reaching nearly to the roof, to which it is joined 
 by a small square ornament. 
 
 Around the large cave are twenty small cells 
 which local guides call the “ dokans,” or shops, 
 each measuring nine feet in depth, with a separate 
 entrance towards the cave. There are seven of 
 these to the right, six to the left, and four at the 
 end of the cave, two on each side of the recess. 
 
 Q say Ag 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 Entering the second to the left of these small 
 apartments, you perceive at about four feet 
 from the ground in the opposite wall a small 
 oblong excavation of about three feet by two; 
 creeping through which, you enter a small 
 apartment of about twelve feet square, in the 
 opposite wall of which is a similar excavation 
 leading to a like apartment; and so on succes- 
 sively for five small rooms, gradually ascending 
 the hill, the floor of each inner apartment being 
 on a level with the lower part of the entrance 
 from the outer one. 
 
 These secret apartments appear originally 
 either to have led or to have been intended to 
 lead to the top of the hill; and to have been 
 the private entrance. At present, however, they 
 receive neither light nor air, excepting from 
 the first entrance. 
 
 This cave is especially interesting as com- 
 bining both the bihara and chaitya; for here, 
 beside the cells, is found the object of worship, 
 the stupa. 
 
 Leaving the second cave and proceeding south- 
 ward twenty or thirty paces, by a narrow ledge 
 round a projecting part of the hill, one reaches 
 a third cave. Between these two caves chisel 
 marks are visible on the wall, as though excava- 
 tions had been begun only and not fully carried 
 
 226 
 
My Pilgrimage to Bagh 
 
 out. In front of this third cave is a large nim 
 tree, whose spreading branches screen the en- 
 trance. 
 
 The cave is apparently an appendage to the 
 preceding bihara, and by reason of the high 
 finish that has been given to the ceilings of the 
 cells and frontage of the cave, it is most probable 
 that it was excavated for the accommodation of 
 some particular or higher class of the priest- 
 hood. 
 
 The front of the cave has not had a baranda:; 
 but the fagade, the lower part of which has broken 
 away, is smoothly chiselled, not plastered, and 
 carved with tigers’ heads between the usual stupa 
 emblems of Buddhist caves. __ 
 
 The cave itself is sixty feet by forty, and fifteen 
 feet high; it is quite plain in design, and has 
 been roughly plastered for painting. One first 
 enters a hall twenty-eight feet square with six 
 supporting octagonal pillars. Four cells lead 
 from the right side. On the left, two pillars 
 form the entrance to a baranda decorated with 
 mosaic patterns, and, from this, an intricate 
 arrangement of cells with passages between them, 
 leads out, causing one side of the cave to extend 
 laterally beyond the proper front or entrance. 
 The ceilings of the passages have all been deco- 
 rated with paintings shaded in black and white, 
 
 227 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 and in a large cell are some beautifully-drawn 
 figures. 
 
 At the end of the cave opposite to the main 
 entrance three doors lead to a hall about thirty- 
 nine feet square with two rows of four broad, 
 square, rough pillars, stretching across. The 
 angles of the corners in this cave are not well cut, 
 but were evidently left unfinished. 
 
 The total length of the cave from front to back 
 is about one hundred and thirty feet and the 
 general height about sixteen feet. 
 
 Leaving this third cave, and returning by the 
 same road, you descend the stone stairs and 
 proceed along the bottom of the hill southward, 
 for about a hundred yards and then reascend by a 
 rugged steep footpath to the fourth cave. Steps 
 originally led from the stream to the cave. 
 
 It is the largest cave of the series, about 
 ninety-four feet square, and is remarkable in 
 many respects; it is better lit, the pillars are 
 more elegantly proportioned and the paintings 
 are superior, more elaborate and more diversified. 
 It is called ‘‘ Rangmahal,”’ which means “ colour 
 hall.” 
 
 Connected with this cave, in one unbroken 
 front, which originally was covered with paintings 
 uninterruptedly, is the patha-sholla, or school- 
 room. A splendid colonnade, two hundred and 
 
 228 
 
My Pilgrimage to Bagh 
 
 twenty feet in extreme length and connected by 
 twenty octagonal pillars fourteen feet in height, 
 embraces the facades of both caves. Such mag- 
 nificence is unrivalled and unequalled in any 
 known bihara; a pilaster at each end and one 
 pillar at the south are all that remain. 
 
 The first object noticed on approaching the 
 cave is a colossal figure of Buddha, which can be 
 seen through the trees, cut in relief on the face 
 of the rock a few yards to the left of the baranda ; 
 it is in an arched niche about thirteen feet high. 
 He is represented in the teaching attitude, 
 seated with the left elbow on the right knee, the 
 foot resting on the ground. The left arm has an 
 ornament on it. The right side is worn away. 
 An open makava’s mouth is behind the head and 
 a riband lies on the shoulder; above the head of 
 the figure are the remains of a dagoba with a 
 triple umbrella and the usual flying garland 
 bearers at the side of it. 
 
 A few yards farther on, just round the corner, 
 is a little recess containing two figures seated 
 close together on a bench, the cobra’s hood over 
 the right one. It is impossible to tell who they 
 represent, but they may be Buddhas. The walls 
 are painted with eight rows of seated Buddhas ; 
 over these, within an archway, are the remains 
 of another seated figure of Buddha, having the 
 
 229 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 chakra, or praying wheel, beneath him between 
 two antelopes’ heads, and flying garland bearers 
 above. This recess borders on the pilaster which 
 is connected with the colonnade of the baranda. 
 It is more handsome and rich than that at the 
 opposite end, where a pilaster and one pillar 
 remain standing. The baranda is fourteen feet 
 wide throughout its length, and ten feet high. 
 From the portions of it which have not fallen in, 
 the roof appears to have been painted with flowers 
 and intricate patterns. The back wall has been 
 plastered and painted continuously through its 
 whole length in double rows, one above the 
 other; portions of the upper only remain, and 
 even these are scribbled over with names and 
 foolish inscriptions. 
 
 The cave itself has three entrances and two 
 windows nearly as big as the doors. The chief 
 door is exceedingly handsome and well-finished, 
 the other two are also beautiful. It is fifteen 
 feet high and eight feet broad, gradually receding 
 into nine feet by six. The cornice of the door is 
 ornamented with a row of nine Buddhist figures 
 in different positions and a miniature dagoba at 
 each end. The frieze has nine heads of Buddha 
 and the architrave a flowered scroll, which 
 passes down the inner pilasters. The consoles 
 bear a female figure with one hand on a child’s 
 
 230 
 
My Pilgrimage to Bagh 
 
 head, both standing within the open mouth of a 
 river-dragon. 
 
 The other doors have much the same ornamen- 
 tation. The windows are nearly square and have 
 on the inside holes for the sockets of wooden 
 shutters and also for a bar to fasten and shut 
 them. The cave, despite its three doors and two 
 windows, is quite dark and it is almost impossible 
 to make one’s way into it without a light. Bats, 
 snakes. and panthers inhabit it undisturbed. 
 
 The hall possesses a most unusual arrangement 
 of columns, which was most likely a necessary 
 construction required by the weakness of the 
 roof. Twenty-eight pillars, twelve feet high, 
 support the roof and form the aisles. They are 
 square at the base and change to octagons and 
 then polygons as they rise, returning to octagons 
 at the summit. Those at the rear are plain 
 octagons which were once painted on their inner 
 faces with figures of Buddha; but these figures 
 have now almost vanished. 
 
 Within this circle of pillars are eight cylin- 
 drical columns arranged in pairs. They are 
 carved and once bore a frieze decorated with 
 figures and heads of Buddha carved in the 
 stone. In the extreme centre are four-based 
 pillars about twenty-two feet high. It is evident 
 they were inserted after the cave was excavated, 
 
 231 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 for they are built up out of sandstone blocks. 
 Debris has piled up around them, due to the 
 collapse of the roof. 
 
 The sandstone has been too soft and unfitted 
 for sculpture, so that, except for a very little 
 carving on the front pillars, its place has been 
 supplied by the kindred art, painting. The 
 whole cave is covered with plaster, showing 
 that it must once have been profusely decorated ; 
 but the frescoes now remaining are so terribly 
 ruined that soon they will have vanished. Seven- 
 teen cells surround the hall; but three more were 
 evidently intended to be excavated on the right- 
 hand side. 
 
 Cave 5, although sharing in common a baranda 
 with cave 4, is separated internally by a partition 
 wall thirty-six feet thick. At the right-hand 
 end of the baranda are a pilaster and a cell. 
 The pilaster is not so elaborate as that at the 
 left-hand end, and the cell does not contain a 
 colossal statue of Buddha, but four figures 
 of Buddha are cut in the face of the rock between 
 this cave and cave 6. 
 
 Cave 5 is evidently, from its shape and arrange- 
 ment, a lecture-hall or refectory, and hence 
 its name, Shala. It is a parallelogram about 
 ninety-six feet by forty-three; has no aisles, 
 cells, stupa nor image, and is perfectly plain 
 
 232 
 
My Pilgrimage to Bagh 
 
 and without ornament, though it has been 
 plastered and seems to have been once covered 
 with frescoes similar to those in cave 4. Two 
 rows of pillars, about six feet apart and twelve 
 feet from the walls, stretch lengthways down 
 the centre. They are eleven feet high and three 
 feet below the ceiling. They are very peculiar. 
 The shafts are round, smooth and unornamented 
 throughout, and spring from the floor without 
 any pedestal. A small astrogal, six inches from 
 _ the top, which would have been atorusif properly 
 placed, is the only ornament. Four windows and 
 a door open directly into the air and light the cave. 
 
 There are five cells in it, three in the rear and two 
 on the farthest side and opposite to the entrance 
 of the schoolroom; they are larger than usual ; 
 probably designed for “‘arhans,”’ or instructors. A 
 rough ground-red plaster has covered the walls. 
 
 A door at the front right-hand side of the hall 
 leads into a small chamber, which in turn 
 leads into cave 6, evidently intended for resi- 
 dence only. It has no baranda, a door and 
 two windows opening direct to the air. It is 
 about forty-eight feet square and has four small 
 cells in addition to the shrine. Six pillars once 
 supported the roof, but they have all fallen. 
 The walls are plastered and a few relics of fres- 
 _coes can still be found among the fallen ruins. 
 
 233 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 Pythons and tigers delight in this cave for their 
 home. aaa 
 
 Cave 7 lies about fifteen yards farther on. 
 It is a facsimile of 2 in arrangement, size and 
 detail. It is about eighty-six feet square and has 
 twenty pillars and twenty cells. However, it is 
 so dilapidated and blocked up with fallen roof 
 and pillars that it is difficult to enter at all. 
 There are signs of painting on walls and pillars. 
 
 Cave 8 is connected with cave 7 by a small 
 cell. But both this cave and Number 9 are 
 in such a state of collapse that it is impossible 
 to enter either of them. 
 
 The rajahs and rich people who excavated 
 these caves wanted to keep up the spirits of the 
 artists who, used to a worldly life but obliged 
 to live, for a time, in such lonely surroundings, 
 might feel depressed and therefore unable to 
 work their best, and so they arranged for a fair 
 to be held, throughout the whole of winter. 
 To this, villagers from far away came to buy 
 and sell, dance, sing and make merry, and the 
 artists were thus able to pause in their work and 
 relieve its monotony by mixing, as they loved to 
 do, with joyous people. 
 
 Knowing what great care the Rajahs took of 
 the welfare of these olden-time artists, one learns 
 with regret that three living artists, Nanda lal 
 
 234 
 
My Pilgrimage to Bagh 
 
 Basu, Surendra Nath Kar and Asit Kumar 
 Haldar, who were sent in January 1921 by the 
 Gwalior State Government to copy the frescoes 
 at Bagh, were so badly looked after and treated 
 that, instead of their working for the proposed 
 time, three months at the caves, they had to run 
 away from the gorge at the end of February 
 after two months’ work. 
 
 The caves are still terribly neglected, and no 
 chowkidars are kept at the place to look after 
 the caves and their surroundings as there are at 
 Ajanta. It is a great pity, and they are getting 
 blocked-up every day by rocks and jungle and are 
 dirty and foul-smelling. 
 
 The four miles from the village to the caves 
 were too far to travel every day and would have 
 involved the loss of too much time, and so I 
 threw in my lot with a family living a mile from 
 the caves, who gave me a bed of sorts and 
 arranged for my food of chapati (a kind of bread), 
 milk and eggs. Daily the little procession of 
 myself and the coolies set out for the caves. 
 
 The best frescoes are to be found in cave 4; 
 but unfortunately they are fully exposed to 
 weather of all kinds, as the baranda has broken 
 away altogether. 
 
 With the help of my coolies I cleared away the 
 huge stones collected before the wall and began 
 
 235 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 to trace the drawings. I then made the interest- 
 ing discovery that these paintings, considered so 
 perfect, are not really quite finished. There are 
 groups of various kinds telling stories of ancient 
 times, the subjects of which are not exactly 
 known. First, a queen grieving over some sor- 
 row is surrounded by maidens in a palace chamber 
 and two blue pigeons sit cooing to one another 
 on the top of the roof. Towards the right the 
 king is holding discussion with vikshus and 
 monks. Then, in the next part is a group of 
 beautiful, half-nude Nautch dancing girls, led 
 by two: foreign-looking men, probably Persian 
 cuests in the Indian king’s court; a very frivolous 
 subject for a Buddhist monastery. Over a 
 garden wall, men on horseback and others are 
 looking at this dancing party. Elsewhere pro- 
 cessions of elephants, rushing through gates and 
 cities, and scenes in an Indian forest-home under 
 the wooded river bank, all speak of a bygone 
 civilisation. 
 
 In the frescoes at Ajanta and Bagh, one often 
 sees in the palace-scenes a few foreigners, especi- 
 ally Persians, singular in their dress, complexion 
 and type of head. For instance, at Bagh is 
 depicted the reception of two noble Persians at 
 the court of an Indian prince. In other frescoes 
 are dancing girls and servants who fill the wine- 
 
 236 
 

 
 THE RANG-MAHAL. 
 CAVE 4, BAGH. 
 
 
 
 PHOTOGRAPH OF FRESCO IN THE RANG-MAHAL. 
 
‘Aoquog “bsq ‘hasuning aalunyjoyy fo uorssassog ayz ur hdoo v mosg 
 
 ‘HOV ‘V FAVD 
 ‘SUHONVA IVAILSHA AO dNOUD V 
 
 
 
My Pilgrimage to Bagh 
 
 cup and hand it dexterously to the raja and rani. 
 This was because the kings of India in the olden 
 days liked to have around them servants graced 
 with the luxurious manners of so highly civilised 
 a country as Persia, and also because they 
 delighted in the entertainment of noble guests 
 from the known parts of the world. Each 
 eroup, to all appearance, was perfect; but I 
 had studied the methods of the frescoes at 
 Ajanta so closely that I knew that the impression 
 of complete finish was deceptive. 
 
 The difference between the work of the Bagh 
 caves and that of the Ajanta is this: the artists 
 of the Buddhist paintings first sketched the 
 outline with Indian red and brush, after which 
 they gradually modelled the figure. Then came 
 the colours and, once more, on top of all, another 
 outline. The highest lights, the deepest shadows, 
 and the most delicate touches of colour were 
 then applied, and finally black was used for 
 details such as eyebrows, hair, etc. These last 
 touches, however, are absent in the Bagh paint- 
 ings. 
 
 I have two theories to account for the un- 
 finished state of these frescoes: first, that they 
 were abandoned when it was discovered that 
 these hills, formed as they were of soft sand- 
 stone, were unsuitable for a permanent Buddhist 
 
 237 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 monastery; secondly, that during the fifth 
 century A.D. one of the great Hun kings of 
 western India, foiled in his ambition to become 
 a Buddhist emperor, destroyed more than 1,600 
 Buddhist stupas, monuments and monasteries 
 in disappointment and in revenge for being 
 mocked at by the priests. This would also 
 explain why such temples as these “ caves ”’ with 
 their wonderful living quarters, schools and art 
 galleries should have been deserted. In face of 
 frequent invasion, the true worshippers disap- 
 peared from the land, but by good fortune the 
 caves escaped destruction from the various in- 
 vaders, for the jungle closed around them. 
 
 Here in the jungles of Bagh there are, as well 
 as tigers, very old pythons, who leave their 
 lairs at night to drink in the river Baghmati 
 and then come through the sandy banks to the 
 bushes above, in order to catch a goat or a buck 
 for supper, and every morning their fresh winding 
 trails can be seen in the soft ground. If the 
 villagers see a python gliding towards its victim 
 they run to rescue the animal, but do not harm 
 the snake, taking pity on and revering it because 
 it has lived since ancient times. They would 
 not kill it, for fear of bad luck. In the darkest 
 hour of night one is startled to hear a drumming 
 sound coming from the caves. Asking the babaji 
 
 238 
 
My Pilgrimage to Bagh 
 
 why he beats the drum through the night, he 
 says: ‘ Tigers come to me for permission to go 
 into the village to find food; and I tell them 
 within the boundary of my drum’s beat you must 
 not attack any living beings, but beyond that 
 sound you are free to kill whomever you wish.” 
 So, in gratitude for the Yogi’s great kindness, the 
 villagers supply him every day with fresh milk, 
 sweetmeats, fruits and money. 
 
 The hillside here at Bagh is so crumbled away, 
 and therefore dangerous, that even while ex- 
 cavating, the monks found the roof needed great 
 support, and so piled up rocks to form extra 
 columns. The frailty of the walls and ceilings 
 is shown by the fall of earth that takes place 
 whenever even a squirrel scampers over them. 
 The whole year round a continual wearing away 
 of the frescoes is going on. First, the hot sun 
 bleaches them and then torrential rain washes 
 over them. After the monsoon a hundred dif- 
 ferent mosses begin to grow all over the walls. 
 An additional peril for the remains of the frescoes 
 is that they are subject to bombardment at the 
 hands of the shepherd boys in the fields, who let 
 fly stones from their catapults in order to disturb 
 tigers and see them rush out of the caves. 
 
 The art of the sculptures and frescoes in the 
 caves of Ajanta and Bagh and in Ceylon is a rare 
 
 239 
 
My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 
 
 and precious heritage of the Indian race. It is 
 precious alike for its own artistic qualities and 
 as a record of India’s civilisation in the past. 
 
 It is not thanks to man but thanks to mighty 
 Nature that the traces of this great art remain. 
 Day by day the traces so wonderfully preserved 
 for over a thousand years are becoming fainter. 
 But there is yet time to place on record a per- 
 manent memorial of that which still remains. 
 A great album of coloured collotype reproductions 
 of the treasures in the various caves would be an 
 invaluable gift to the world. And if the ruling 
 chieftains of the territory in which the caves are 
 situated would publish such an album, they would 
 render an inestimable service, by once again 
 making available to mankind the record of a 
 perfect expression of human life. 
 
 
 
 BUDDHA’S FEET RESTING ON LOTUS FLOWERS 
 

 

 
 
 
INDEX 
 
 Acharya Indra, 190, 195 
 
 Ajanta Caves 
 
 ——— one of the great monuments 
 
 in art, 16 
 
 —— paintings of, 16-22, 51 and 
 passim 
 
 re-discovery of the Caves, 44— 
 46 | 
 
 description of Cave 1, 47, 182- 
 86 
 
 —— 2, 174-82 
 
 173 
 
 ee 4, 171-738 
 
 ees. N78 
 
 ——'§, 168-71 
 
 ——-— 7, 46, 118, 127 
 
 ——— §, 50 
 
 —— 9, 50, 96, 107-113 
 
 , 50, 95-107, 118, 159 
 
 == 11, 50, 122 
 
 ——— 12, 50, 115, 117 
 
 —— 13, 50 
 
 ees 
 
 | 
 | 
 - 
 
 == 15, 185-36 
 —- 16, 51, 185, 187, 142, 164 
 50, 142-48 
 —— 18, 1385, 149 
 — 19, 135, 149-54 
 —— 20, 154-55 
 —— 21, 187-88 
 —— 22, 189-90 
 —— 238, 190-91 
 —— 24, 191-92 
 —— 25, 192 
 
 —— 26, 192-96 
 —— 27, 196 
 
 —— 28, 49, 196 
 
 fe pe BY, 197 
 Ananda, 76—77, 838-85 
 Anathapinda, 77—78 
 Anesaki, Professor, 20 
 Arai, Kampo, 40—43 
 Araisan, 42-43, 47-48 
 
 Hila uue tad 
 
 
 
 bo 
 
 Asita, 60 
 
 Asita-muni, Saint, 140 
 Asmakaraza, 194 
 Asoka, 49-50 
 Atigupta, 214 
 
 Bagh, paintings of, 19 
 
 Bagh and Bagh Caves, 199-240 
 
 Barrett, Rachel, 24 
 
 Basathiputa, 98 
 
 Basu, Nanda lal, 235 
 
 Basu, Srijukta N. lal, 25 
 
 Bees, 159-60 
 
 Bhabiraja, 194 
 
 Bhils, 208-10, 216-17 
 
 Bhusaval, 200 
 
 Bihara, meaning of, 49 
 
 Bijaya, King, 146 
 
 Bimbisara, King, 78, 83 
 
 Binyon, Laurence, 24 
 
 Introduction, 15-22 
 
 Bodhisatva, previous birth-name 
 of Buddha, 98 
 
 Bone, Muirhead, 25 
 
 British Museum, 106 
 
 Buddha, life-story of, 60 
 
 Buddha as chief elephant, 98-100 
 
 Buddhism a foreign religion in 
 China and Japan, 18 
 
 Buddhist temples destroyed by 
 Huns, 2388 
 
 Buddhu Miya, 134, 158, 161, 197 
 
 Burgess, Dr., 24 
 
 
 
 Cave Temples of India, 24 
 Caves, smell in, 122 
 Chaitya, meaning of, 49 
 Channa, 68—70 
 
 Chinese frescoes, 16 
 Chunda, 84 
 
 Curumsey, Kallianjee, 24 
 
 Debadatta, cousin of Buddha, 62, 
 72, V7, 145 
 
Index 
 
 Debaraja, 194 
 
 Dey, Sri Mukul Chandra 
 
 first journey to Ajanta, 28 
 
 first sees the site of the caves, 
 41 
 
 second journey to Ajanta, 86 
 
 ——— leaves Ajanta, 198 
 
 journeys to Bagh, 200 
 see also under 
 Caves and passim. 
 
 Dhandu, 1382-38 
 
 Dhar, 204 
 
 Dharmahaga, 190 
 
 Dharma-Rakhya, 214 
 
 Druce, Mr. and Mrs. Eliot, 25 
 
 Druce, Elsie M. C., 25 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Ajanta 
 
 Elephant, six-tusked, 98-102 
 Elephants, stone, 142 
 
 Fa-Heen, 49, 214 
 
 Fardapur, 39, 44, 91-94, 129, 131 
 Fergusson, James, 24 , 
 Fergusson, Mr. and Mrs. Louis F., 24 
 Freseoes, Chinese, 16 
 
 Ganesh, Hindu God of Luck, 223 
 Gautama, Sidhartha. See Buddha 
 Ghanamadada, 116 
 
 God of Wealth, 152 
 
 Gonsai Babaji, 219 
 
 Gonshai Gumpha, 218, 223 
 
 Gopi girls, 35 
 
 Griffiths, John, 15, 17 
 
 Guna-Vadra, 214 
 
 Haldar, Asit Kumar, 235 
 
 Herringham, Lady, 15, 24 
 
 Heuen-Tsang, 49, 193, 214 
 
 Horse, riderless, set loose before a 
 coronation, 147 
 
 Hsuan Tai, 214 
 
 Image, Professor Selwyn, 24 
 India, railway travelling in, 28-82 
 India Office, 24 
 
 India Society, 15, 17, 24 
 
 Indra, God of Heaven, 162 
 
 Jalgaon, the nearest railway station 
 for the caves, 32 
 
 Jayata, 190 
 
 Jhasu Bomeah, 215 
 
 Jivaka, 88 
 
 Johnson, W. E., “* Pussyfoot,” 25 
 Johnston and Hoffmann, Messrs., 24 
 
 Kapilabastu, 57-58, 74 
 Kapila Muni, 57 
 
 Kar, Suren, 217 
 
 Kar, Surendra Nath, 25, 235 
 Koles, 208, 216 
 
 Kukshi, 205, 215 
 
 Larcher, Dorothy, 24 
 Lighting of cave 19, 1538 
 
 Maggs, Elsie, 24 
 
 Maggs, Eve, 24 
 
 Maggs, Henry Clifford, 25 
 Mara, 185, 194 
 
 Maya Debi, Queen, 58 
 Mhow, 200-201 
 
 Monkeys, 158-9 
 
 Moore, Thomas Sturge, 24 
 Muni, Kapila, 57 
 
 Nagpur, 30 
 
 Narayan, 87-89, 91, 93, 125, 127- 
 131, 133 
 
 Neri, 36 
 
 Palaces, Indian, 109 
 Paramartha, 214 
 Patel Sahib, 131, 183 
 Pearson, Lionel G., 25 
 Pukkusati, 83 
 
 Radha of Brindaban, 35 
 
 Rahula, 76, 148, 151 
 
 Railway travelling in India, 28-32 
 Rajputs, 216 
 
 Raju Professor, J. B., 1381 
 Richter, F. J., 24 
 
 Rothenstein, Mr., 18 
 
 Sariputta, 81 
 
 Sawamura, Professor, 40, 42-43, 
 52-53 
 
 Shakya Kings, 58 
 
 Shudhodhana, King, 58, 74 
 
 Sidhartha Gautama, See Buddha 
 
 Sigiria, caves of, 199 
 
 244 
 
Index 
 
 Six-tusked elephant, 98-102 Tigers, 161 
 Smell in caves, 122 
 Smith, Mr. and Mrs. A. R., 25 Vakod, 91-92, 127-28 
 Snakes, 208 Varnishing of paintings, 139-140 
 Sonuta, chief hunter, 100 
 Stupa, meaning of, 49 Wells Cathedral, 225 
 Whaley, Eddie, 24 
 Tagore, Dr., 43 Williams, Captain, 51 
 Tagore, Sir Rabindranath, 56 Wylie, Ida A. R., 24 
 Tamankaduwa, 199 
 Tanga, cart, 36 Yashodhara, Princess, 62-63, 67, 
 Thomas, Dr. F. W., 24 69, 75, 188-84 
 
 PRINTED BY THE STANHOPE PRESS, LTD., STROOD, ROCHESTER 
 
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