.6 PICTURES AND PEN-PICTURES

times pilgrims have trodden the large flag-stones that
pave the narrow streets that change direction at abrupt
angles and lead into tiny, unsuspected squares made
bright by piles of rich and varied, fruit. Pilgrims
have catered to their wants at one or the other of the
close-packed booths that sell tasty food, savoury tea,
sweet-scented flowers, or coloured baskets of graceful
shapes. Picturesque balconied houses with Ganges-
cleansed clothes hung out to dry, line the streets and
tower above the booths; yet, Hardwar streets are not
dark, for the limpid mountain air pervades the town
and the bright, joyful sun playfully catches and lights
up a sparkle from a polished apple, a brass vessel, or
from the glossy tresses of a maiden pilgrim. Down
in the crysfcaline waters all along the ghats, innumerable
fish, from the tiniest silver thread to arrogant black
giants the size of plantain trunks, sport and jostle one
another for favours from devotees. There are neither
fishermen nor fishing nets, for the fish of Hardwar
are sacred-

The first day of the Hindu solar year dawns—
it is the great religious fair of Hardwar. Every twelve
years this festival, the Great Kumbh Mela, takes place;

the Little, or Half Kumbh is every six- While Hard-war
prepares for this Kumbh Mela for months ahead,
pilgrims from every corner of India take the road to
this holy spot. Sadhus and ascetics, religious leaders
and leaders of every Hindu community meet in
Hardwar; here, caparisoned elephants carry them from
shrine to ghat and ghat to shrine during the festivities,
and elephant processions occur almost every day, just
as in ages gone by, .JOnly the newsreel cameraman