At last we decided to pitch it in
the only building which remained in a tolerable state of preservation,
in Yami-Masjid, the cathedral-mosque, on a granite platform about
twenty-five steps higher than the square. The stairs, constructed
of pure marble like the greater part of the town buildings, are
broad and almost untouched by time, but the roof has entirely
disappeared, and so we were obliged to put up with the stars for a
canopy. All round this building runs a low gallery supported by
several rows of thick pillars. From a distance it reminds one, in
spite of its being somewhat clumsy and lacking in proportion, of
the Acropolis of Athens. From the stairs, where we rested for a
while, there was a view of the mausoleum of Gushanga-Guri, King of
Malwa, in whose reign the town was at the culmination of its
brilliancy and glory. It is a massive, majestic, white marble
edifice, with a sheltered peristyle and finely carved pillars.
This peristyle once led straight to the palace, but now it is
surrounded with a deep ravine, full of broken stones and overgrown
with cacti. The interior of the mausoleum is covered with golden
lettering of inscriptions from the Koran, and the sarcophagus of
the sultan is placed in the middle. Close by it stands the palace
of Baz-Bahadur, all broken to pieces--nothing now but a heap of
dust covered with trees.
We spent the whole day visiting these sad remains, and returned
to our sheltering place a little before sunset, exhausted with
hunger and thirst, but triumphantly carrying on our sticks three
huge snakes, killed on our way home.
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