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{{Style P-Title|From the Caves and Jungles of Hindustan}}
{{HPB-Caves-header
<center>'''by H. P. Blavatsky'''</center>
| letter = 24
 
}}
 
<center>'''Letter XXIV'''</center>


Near such monuments as the pillar of Asoka, old pipalas (Ficus religiosa), the direct descendants of Bodhidruma ("the tree of knowledge"), a favourite tree of the founder of Buddhism, according to legends, can usually be found. There was once such a tree near the pillar, but it is no longer there: it was cut off by the English, without any strong reason, as usual. But in the cave they show Akshaya Baht ("undying Bunyan"). Xuanzang saw it in the early seventh century; but in those days the tree was already taken from the Buddhists, and the catacombs, after a century of silence, again resounded with the cries of the Shaivites and again became the scene of bloody rites of the Destroyer God. In the days of the Buddhist pilgrims the Bunyan was a huge tree with far-flung green branches and stood at the entrance to the main cave of the underground temple. And now only an old blackened stump with a few dry branches survive, it stands in the fourth underground chamber. The Brahmans assured us that the tree was transplanted here by Lord Shiva himself: breaking off the top half of the trunk, he divided it into two parts – one was allegedly planted in Gaya and the other in Juggernaut.
Near such monuments as the pillar of Asoka, old pipalas (Ficus religiosa), the direct descendants of Bodhidruma ("the tree of knowledge"), a favourite tree of the founder of Buddhism, according to legends, can usually be found. There was once such a tree near the pillar, but it is no longer there: it was cut off by the English, without any strong reason, as usual. But in the cave they show Akshaya Baht ("undying Bunyan"). Xuanzang saw it in the early seventh century; but in those days the tree was already taken from the Buddhists, and the catacombs, after a century of silence, again resounded with the cries of the Shaivites and again became the scene of bloody rites of the Destroyer God. In the days of the Buddhist pilgrims the Bunyan was a huge tree with far-flung green branches and stood at the entrance to the main cave of the underground temple. And now only an old blackened stump with a few dry branches survive, it stands in the fourth underground chamber. The Brahmans assured us that the tree was transplanted here by Lord Shiva himself: breaking off the top half of the trunk, he divided it into two parts – one was allegedly planted in Gaya and the other in Juggernaut.
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Despite the prohibition, threats of fines and even prison, we gave a rupee to the Brahman on duty, imperturbably walked up to the pillars without even taking off our shoes. We looked down: the idol of enormous dimensions, 20 feet in size, bright red and with a crown on monkey's head was resting on the back, with his raised knees wide apart, his tail turned up and his cheek on the palm of his left hand, while the other was holding the scepter. A lamp was hanging over his face, and he was all covered with flowers. Trying to know what material the idol was made of, and receiving a response from the Brahman that he was "made of nothing" and was besides "the living body of god," we were not satisfied with such a mysterious answer. What shall we do? From the first day when Hanuman fell asleep in his hole, no one except the dedicated Brahmans went down. Throwing a stone at the sleeping deity and judging by the sound of the material he is made of is a crime provided by the municipality that can end with a fine of 100 rupees. Here our president, as a true inventive Yankee, solved the dilemma; taking a handful of copper and small silver coins and lowering his hand behind the railing, he, in the form of an experiment, but as if accidentally dropped one anna (3 kopecks) on the god’s stomach, all the while keeping his eyes on the Brahman vigilantly watching him, who immediately inquired cunningly, if he would bring it back to the Sahib? “No,” the president replied, “all that falls down should remain as an offering to Hanuman.” Encouraged by this, the colonel threw another coin, already aiming. Hitting right in the nose of the deity, but without the expected sound, he then began to throw more and more coins, until finally after throwing a dozen coins, one clinked as if hitting something metallic. When he stopped, pleased with this discovery, the Brahman suggested that he should throw a few more coins into the snout of Hanuman, repeating with emotion that such a game is very pleasant for the Deva...
Despite the prohibition, threats of fines and even prison, we gave a rupee to the Brahman on duty, imperturbably walked up to the pillars without even taking off our shoes. We looked down: the idol of enormous dimensions, 20 feet in size, bright red and with a crown on monkey's head was resting on the back, with his raised knees wide apart, his tail turned up and his cheek on the palm of his left hand, while the other was holding the scepter. A lamp was hanging over his face, and he was all covered with flowers. Trying to know what material the idol was made of, and receiving a response from the Brahman that he was "made of nothing" and was besides "the living body of god," we were not satisfied with such a mysterious answer. What shall we do? From the first day when Hanuman fell asleep in his hole, no one except the dedicated Brahmans went down. Throwing a stone at the sleeping deity and judging by the sound of the material he is made of is a crime provided by the municipality that can end with a fine of 100 rupees. Here our president, as a true inventive Yankee, solved the dilemma; taking a handful of copper and small silver coins and lowering his hand behind the railing, he, in the form of an experiment, but as if accidentally dropped one anna (3 kopecks) on the god’s stomach, all the while keeping his eyes on the Brahman vigilantly watching him, who immediately inquired cunningly, if he would bring it back to the Sahib? “No,” the president replied, “all that falls down should remain as an offering to Hanuman.” Encouraged by this, the colonel threw another coin, already aiming. Hitting right in the nose of the deity, but without the expected sound, he then began to throw more and more coins, until finally after throwing a dozen coins, one clinked as if hitting something metallic. When he stopped, pleased with this discovery, the Brahman suggested that he should throw a few more coins into the snout of Hanuman, repeating with emotion that such a game is very pleasant for the Deva...


From Hanuman we went to show our respect to "the Baba Sandasi". In order to avoid any misunderstanding, I hasten to note that the Baba Sandasi is not a Russian "baba"<ref>Woman (Russian) – Ed.</ref> but a Hindu "elder", and even, judging by his age, very venerable. He is said to be 250 years old, and he himself says that he was born so long ago that he forgot exactly when. Whenever it was, "the Baba" is a historical personage highly respected even by the English, who, to the surprise of the natives of India, were for once grateful for the services provided. Their appreciation, however, is limited to the fact that they have not fired the "Baba" from a cannon, never hung him, nor even put him in prison; but it is certainly worth something in India. They even gave him a square stone half a yard in length and width, on which he has been sitting without getting up for exactly 53 years; and the same municipality generously provided him with a plaque. The fact is that the memory of the "Baba" is closely linked with that of the rebellion for the English. In those hard days he saved many Europeans by hiding them in the empty hole under the stone which he doesn’t leave and in which he hides his charms and remedies. Twice he was almost killed, but he did not betray those he was hiding…
From Hanuman we went to show our respect to "the Baba Sandasi". In order to avoid any misunderstanding, I hasten to note that the Baba Sandasi is not a Russian "baba"<ref>Woman (Russian). – Tr.</ref> but a Hindu "elder", and even, judging by his age, very venerable. He is said to be 250 years old, and he himself says that he was born so long ago that he forgot exactly when. Whenever it was, "the Baba" is a historical personage highly respected even by the English, who, to the surprise of the natives of India, were for once grateful for the services provided. Their appreciation, however, is limited to the fact that they have not fired the "Baba" from a cannon, never hung him, nor even put him in prison; but it is certainly worth something in India. They even gave him a square stone half a yard in length and width, on which he has been sitting without getting up for exactly 53 years; and the same municipality generously provided him with a plaque. The fact is that the memory of the "Baba" is closely linked with that of the rebellion for the English. In those hard days he saved many Europeans by hiding them in the empty hole under the stone which he doesn’t leave and in which he hides his charms and remedies. Twice he was almost killed, but he did not betray those he was hiding…


Baba is a Punjabi and Sikh, a follower of Guru Nanak. Near the walls of the Fort, on the scorching banks of the Ganges sits this elder now totally blind and white as snow. Proudly draping a naked body in a piece of white muslin, he with his silvery-white long hair looks, in quiet, windless days, rather like a marble statue than a living creature. Here's what word for word is written on the plaque generously presented by the city authorities to the elder and placed in six steps from him:
Baba is a Punjabi and Sikh, a follower of Guru Nanak. Near the walls of the Fort, on the scorching banks of the Ganges sits this elder now totally blind and white as snow. Proudly draping a naked body in a piece of white muslin, he with his silvery-white long hair looks, in quiet, windless days, rather like a marble statue than a living creature. Here's what word for word is written on the plaque generously presented by the city authorities to the elder and placed in six steps from him:
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