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 limited. The village that lies between the Fort and St. Thome possesses some dwellings of a better class. In the centre of this group stands a brick-house with terraced roof and substantial verandah. Its proportions are not large, but compared with the humble huts that nestle up to its side, it is a palace. It is the residence of the head of the caste, the fisher-king as the people call him. In bygone times the chief of the Muckwas occupied a hut like the rest of his fellows. A modern ancestor is said to have met with a stroke of luck by which he was enabled to build himself a mansion suitable to his dignity as head of the caste.

The old fisherman, who has no longer strength to go out with the fishing fleet, occupies himself on shore searching the high-water mark for flotsam and jetsam. He discovers all kinds of treasures, driftwood that serves for fuel, baskets, fittings of ships, and articles thrown or lost overboard, remnants of cargoes swallowed by the sea in shipwreck; even jewels and money may sometimes be found washed up after long years under the salt water. The storms create fresh currents, the sandbanks are displaced, and the treasure is released. It is said that a Muckwa chief, too aged to accompany his sons, employed himself in this manner one day after a severe storm. He picked up a box that had been washed ashore which contained a number of bank-notes. Neither he nor his family recognised the nature of the treasure trove, and the notes were thrown aside as being valueless. A grand-daughter tidying the little mud hut found the slips of paper and fastened them round the walls by way of ornament. One day a Government peon had occasion to call at the hut of the Muckwa. It happened to be a cold monsoony day, and the person he wanted to see had taken refuge inside. He stood at the open door and glanced round the room with eyes that grew wide with astonishment. He could