place I then beheld, could have been the
same that not many days since I had left so
silent and desolate. There was the flag-staff,
however, now enclosed by a broken fence, and
guarded by a detachment of Malay riflemen.
Further off, towering high above the Pandals
and bazaars, was the dazzling white walls of
the Doric. It was with the utmost difficulty
that I forced my way through the dense
moving mass; the noise, the crowd, the
heat, the smell, the motley colours, all served
to annoy and perplex, whilst they amused.
All these thousands were congregated to
share in, or derive some profit from the
fishery about to take place. All appeared
anxious to learn if the day had been fixed;
how many boats would be employed; and for
how long. A few of the more respectable
traders pressed around me, in the hope of
gathering some information on these points;
but in vain. Wealthy Hindoo merchants;
Moormen and Malabar Chettys from the
opposite coasts of India; Parawa traders from the
Madura shore; Arabs, Banians, and Parsees,
from Bombay and Madras; dealers from the
Persian Gulf; Tamils, Jews, Chinese,
Portuguese, Dutch, half-castes, Cingalese, Malays;
all were there, in their many gaily-coloured
and varied costumes, making up what might
well have been taken for a masquerade in the
open air.

Long rows of bazaars stretched as far as the
eye could reach; gaudily decorated, and filled
to the roof with wares and merchandise of
every conceivable kind, as though the swarms
of visitors were expected to dwell there for a
twelvemonth at least. Booths full of sweetmeats,
strong liquors, and native drinks,
tempted the hungry and the thirsty on all
sides. In the middle stood a rather humble
sized building, with a white flag flying from one
corner of its leafy roof, and strings of little
lamps and flowers hung across the doorway.
The sound of heavy tom-toms, and shrilly-
shrieking pipes, resounded from within, and
told plainly enough its sacred character. It
was a temple hastily erected by the priests of
the shrine of Ramisseram—a famed sanctuary
on the Indian shore—where, it is said by
Bramin legends, Adam rested ere passing
over to Ceylon to end his days. Further on
was a Buddhist temple, with its yellow and
white flowers, cloths and flags, and its yellow-
robed, bald-headed, keen-eyed, old priests.
These gentry reap a rich harvest during the
fishery by ordinary offerings, the sale of
charms for the divers, and lucky "olahs" for
those who intend to bid for oysters. Besides
all these sources of income, the priests lay
claim to charity, or temple oysters, a small
proportion from each boat-load out of the
divers' shares, and which most of the natives
are weak and ignorant enough to concede
them.

At one of the large ornamented arrack-
booths, a crowd of boatmen and divers was
assembled, listening to the lusty harangue
from a tall ungainly figure, I could scarcely
distinguish amidst so many in the throng.
I found out that he was a Shark-Charmer,
and reaped no little gain from his vocation.
The divers, I learnt, were so persuaded of
his mystic powers over the monsters of
the deep, that no bribes or threats would
induce them to venture in the sea without his
presence. This "Charmer" stood quite six
feet high, a dark, long-haired Bramin, with
bright, cat-like eyes, and heavy shaggy
eyebrows. His black hair was matted together
with dirt and filth; his skin was marked in
many places with mysterious characters in.
chalk: his brawny neck and arms were
ornamented with strings of heavy black beads.
It was hardly to be wondered at, that such a
character should possess some influence over
the benighted Indians—the boatmen and
divers; it was not difficult, however, to
perceive that most of his excitement was derived
from the little squat bottles which graced the
dirty shelves of the Arrack Bazaar.

After a lapse of four days, spent by the
Inspector, the Magistrate of the District, the
Government Agent, and the Adapanaar, in
various arrangements;—in publishing notices
and issuing instructions connected with the
fishery—the first diving day was determined
on, and the boats, to the number of two
hundred, were forthwith put in readiness.

The day previous to the fishery, the
"Wellington" once more stood out for the
"Banks," with the Inspector and Government
Agent on board. The boats, with their
respective complements of divers, were to leave
precisely at midnight, so as to arrive on the
banks before day-light, the wind being at that
time off the land and in their favour. In
order to see as much as possible of their
proceedings, I remained to accompany the fleet
with the old Adapanaar in his ten-oared
cutter. I lay down at dusk in a small shed
attached to the temporary military quarters,
intending to snatch a few hours' repose.
But I soon found sleep was quite out of the
question; the noise in the bazaars was greater
than ever, and it was with an effort that I
made myself heard by the attendants, above
the din of voices, tom-toms and pipes. I
walked out and found the boatman and divers,
far from attempting any rest previous to
their heavy labours, merry-making on the sea-
beach. Many were dancing, many beating
time on the tom-tom; hundreds were chaunting
their wild songs, and all had been well
supplied with toddy and arrack. The night
was pitchy dark, and but few stars were
visible over the bright glare of many torches.
A huge bonfire blazed over the flag-staff,
lighting up bazaars, palm-trees, and temples,
in one lurid glare, and flinging a few rays
on the distant shining walls of the Doric.
The Shark-Charmer, too, stood in all his
glory, on the summit of one of the vast
heaps of blanched oyster shells: he was
holding forth to the assembled crowd with