But from its boughs hang numerous baskets, brimming over with melons, grapes, and guavas.

And daily these baskets were replenished.
As we here stood, there passed a hungry figure, in ragged raiment: hollow cheeks, and hollow eyes.

Wistfully he eyed the offerings; but retreated; knowing it was sacrilege to touch them.

There, they must decay, in honor of the god Ananna; for so this dead tree was denominated by Mohi.
Now, as we were thus strolling about the Morai, the old chronicler elucidating its mysteries, we suddenly spied Pani and the pilgrims approaching the image of Doleema; his child leading the guide.
"This," began Pani, pointing to the idol of stone, "is the holy god Ananna who lives in the sap of this green and flourishing tree." "Thou meanest not, surely, this stone image we behold ?" said Divino.
"I mean the tree," said the guide.

"It is no stone image." "Strange," muttered the chief; "were it not a guide that spoke, I would deny it.