At Mutton we found our three lazy friends of the morning, encamped
under the trees reading green railway-novels, and evidently very much
puzzled how to kill time. Beyond a tank teeming with sacred fishes,
there appeared nothing whatever to be seen here. Taking warning
from this, we thought it not worth while proceeding to Bamazoo,
where we were told there were caves; but, treating the fishes to a
small coin's worth of Indian maize, we retraced our steps and diverged
about a kos off the Islamabad road to Pandau. Here we were rewarded by
coming suddenly upon a magnificent old Cyclopeian ruin of grey stone,
bearing, from a little distance, the appearance rather of an ancient
Christian Church -- such as may be seen occasionally in Ireland --
than of a heathen place of worship. On entering, we found a number of
ancient carvings on the massive stone walls, but they were much worn,
and the designs to us were unintelligible. Some of them were like
the Hindoo divinities, while others were more like Christian devices,
such as cherubims, &c.
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