SIND was nearer the warpath of conquering Islam than the more western states of India, and there was a time in the remote past when but few Hindus remained within its borders, so thorough was the savagery with which the alternative of death or circumcision was forced on its inhabitants. When the holy war died down and conversion by violence was no longer a danger, Hindus trickled in as traders, clerks, and petty officials, but even as late as the days of the Mirs, just before the British conquest, their lives were lowly and precarious, and they were almost in bondage like the Israelites in Egypt. To mark to the full the bitterness of their subjection, they were forbidden by law to law to ride a horse, and trudged along the camelpaths on foot, while their Mohammedan betters pridefully past.

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The Hindu Bunia in remote villages is still bullied by the wealthy zemindar of the neighbourhood: a grain merchant and money-lender, he is not seldom treated by his formidable clients like the Jew in medieval Europe; he goes in fear; and his women-folk are reckoned fair sport by the swaggering lordlings of the desert. These things are mentioned to show by contrast the

strength of Mohammedanism in a region where, even under British rule, the embers of the patriarchal system still glow fiercely. Away from the larger towns, zemindars and peasants live according to tribes more or less. They are all

Mohammedans. Some of the more powerful tribal headmen command the faithful service of thousands of followers even unto death. Here more especially Islam is in the ascendant, its rules are strictly observed, regular attendance at the mosques and prayers five times daily are enforced by custom and public opinion, and in Ramazan month all fast conscientiously from sunrise to sunset, not even drinking water in spite of the heat. Yet though a real and earnest religious feeling pervades the lives of the people, it has no noticeable moral effect, for crimes of violence are frequent. The people are prosperous, and the standard of living is high. The cultivated lands are rich with the silt of the Indus, and watered copiously in the inundation season, when the river, swollen with the melted snows of the Himalayas and with the rains of the Punjab, rises to a mighty flood, and spreads through the province far and wide along innumerable canals, streams, and waterways, bring

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The holiest, wealthiest, and most powerful of the Pirs of Sind is the Pir of Kingri, called the Pir Pagare, or Pir of the Turban, because he wears a ceremonial turban as a sign of dignity, just a monarch wears a crown. He moves abroad in a palanquin carried by yelling bearers, and surrounded by yelling multitudes of men and women, who prostrate themselves in the dust before him, and dance and sing his praises in a frenzy of adoration. All Mohammedans, even the educated, look upon him practically as a god, and show the most intense awe and reverence in his presence. His predecessors, who had advanced beyond mere sanctity, handed down to him an actual and recognised claim to divinity.

In the old days there were saints in the land, holy men whose teachings of the faith attracted thousands of followers, to whose personalities legend attributes miraculous powers, whose tombs became shrines where pilgrims resort, and where multitudes still congregate at annual fairs and festivals to celebrate their memory. These personages are called Pirs, and so also are their descendants, who wield no small influence, on the assumption that they inherit the holiness of their ancestors as they inherit the title. Every devout Mohammedan in Sind is a disciple or "murid" of some Pir, whose teachings he follows, whose advice he takes on important matters of his life, whom he reveres with an enthusiasm hardly understood by a European. To him he makes customary gifts of money, sheep, or grain, or other fruits of the field. Pirs have amassed great wealth, and are treated as the owners of the shrines under their charge; and to the offerings of pilgrims is added the income of many broad acres. They are much esteemed, and live on the fat of the land. Their disciples are often scattered far and wide, and the Pirs make journeys among them like triumphal progresses, during which they are sumptuously entertained and enriched with the tribute considered their due. People of all classes, both

It is not surprising that a sect has arisen of men whose lives are absolutely devoted to his service. These are called Hurs or Lurs, and so wholehearted is their devotion that they pay respect to no other Pir. The rest of his murids follow the usual custom, and bow down to all Pirs, but to the Hurs the sanctity of their lord and master is so overpowering that they take heed of none else, lest by so doing they defraud him of his due. They are pledged to further his interests at all costs, to remove his enemies from his path, and to commit any crime not short of murder for this end. The Pir is named of the

Turban because the Turban is the emblem of his divine character and authority. When one Pir dies, his successor among rival claimants is he who first manages to sit in state wearing the Turban; for the Hurs, the most formidable party among his followers, regardless of right and wrong, honesty or trickery, concentrate their fanatical devotion on the Turban and its wearerthe terror of their name bears down all opposition.

In olden days the Hurs were open supporters of the Pir, until their habits of plunder and murder for his benefit brought on them the displeasure of the British Government. Once they broke out into revolt, retreated into a great swamp, the Makhi Dhand, fired on a British officer, and fought a guerilla warfare until finally forced to submit. Afterwards they were treated as a criminal tribe, and placed under restriction. Since then they do not all proclaim their faith, but live in their thousands among their fellow Mohammedans without being known as Hurs to any but their immediate comrades. They work in matters which they conceive to be in the interests of the Pir like a secret society. Hurs may be of any tribe or any calling one's own body-servant may be a Hur in Northern Sind, although one does not know it. Pressure has been brought on the Pir to dissociate himself from them, and he is supposed not to allow them near him, or

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to admit them into his councils. How far he observes or can be expected to observe such a prohibition is questionable.

The Pir lives in Kingri, which is also called "Pir-jo-goth" or "the Pir's village," like a lord in his demesne. He is served by a number of Vazirs or Ministers, who issue and execute his commands, collect his revenues, and administer his estates. There may be fifty or a hundred Vazirs operating in different parts of the country, but in the Pir's village itself perhaps five or six play a prominent rôle. Some have much influence, others little. There is the same intrigue and favouritism as at a native Court. Some of the vazirs are always either Hurs or in close touch with Hurs, for it may be taken for granted that such a source of secret power will not be neglected. wealth of the Pir is enormous, and succession to the Turban is no mean prize.

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About September 1921 the ruling Pir was on his deathbed in the great house in Pirjo-goth. Hakims had been summoned from near and far, and had sought without success to fan the flickering spark of life in him; but finding no disease save old age, the remedy for which is death, they desisted from their efforts and gave up the fight against Kismet. All withdrew from his apartment except his one surviving wife Fatimabai and his favourite vazir and attendant Imamali, an old man of seventy,

who held all his secrets and knew the amount and the whereabouts of his treasure. And his treasure was great, what with offerings and the produce of land; and doubtless it would be in cash or ornaments, for these people do not entrust their money to banks or lend it on interest, since usury is forbidden by the Koran. They often hide their wealth by burial in the ground. Now Fatima and Imamali saw that the end was near, and made preparation to perform the last mournful offices.

His followers were already divided into two factions on the subject of the succession, some favouring his only son Jiandshah, a boy of twelve, and others Mohamedshah, the son of his deceased elder son. Mohamedshah had arrived at years of discretion, but showed no energy in pushing his claims. He cared more for pleasure than for power; yet he had adherents who were more eager than himself.

The District Magistrate and the Police kept a watchful eye on the course of events. They feared that bloodshed and murder might follow the passing of the Pir if the rival elements were not restrained, for the Hurs, always an unknown quantity, might throw in their lot with either side and try to achieve their aims by violence. Mohamedshah was thought to be out of favour with the old Pir, whose wife, never leaving his chamber in these his last moments, ardently desired her

son to sit on the gadi" or throne" of his father. Imamali, on the other hand, was reputed to be a staunch friend of Mohamedshah.

As the end approached, the District Magistrate, the Deputy Magistrate, and the Deputy Superintendent of Police brought their camps to Pir-jogoth, resolved to ensure a peaceful succession-they did not know for whom-to the Turban and its treasure. Not to speak of the prospect of attaining to the sanctity of a god, there was a rumour in the bazaars that three lakhs of rupees were at stake-some twenty thousand pounds,—but the sum was probably less than the truth.

At last the noise of mourning was heard in the house, and the news of death spread quickly. It came to the ears of the District Magistrate in his tents at the camping-ground, who, with his Deputies and Police, quickly presented himself in the village. In the open square in front of the Pir's residence a motley crowd of mourners of both sexes were loudly expressing their grief. They wept and declaimed, they prostrated themselves on the ground, and they poured dust on their heads. The shrill and strident cries of women mingled with the hoarse and deep - toned ululations of the men. They struck their breasts, they tore their hair, they made the noise called "Bomb" by beating their hands on their lips in a long drawn "Boh woh woh