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 now brought her to the bank of that fearful river. It seemed that in that horrible region, there was no sun, no moon, no star, no light, yet there was nothing like darkness. Every object there could be seen, though very faintly. The river of blood, the rotten human bodies, the floating bones, the fearful crocodiles in mere skeleton, all these could be seen, although there was no light. On the banks, instead of sands there were sharp pins, with their pointed ends upwards. The colossal figure of Shaibalini's saviour on the hills, seemed to appear before her again, and this time like a stern dispenser of justice asked her to cross the river. There was no means to go to the other side of the river—there was neither boat nor bridge. The man, however, said in a stern voice, "Swim across the river, thou wretched creature. Thou knowest to swim very well—thou hadst enough of swimming with Pratap, in the Ganges."

How could Shaibalini make up her mind to plunge into that awful river of blood? The man, finding her hesitating to obey his mandate, raised the rod in his hand to strike her. In great fear, poor Shaibalini saw that the rod was made of red-hot iron. Finding her still delaying to obey his