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 down. Just where it emerges from under the barrier it forms a pool which is crowded with mahseer of all sizes. These are wonderfully tame, the bigger ones feeding fearlessly from one's hand and even allowing their backs to be stroked.1 They are protected by the Mádgole zamindars — who (see p. 320) on several grounds venerate all fish — and by superstitious fears. Once, goes the story, a Brinjári caught one and turned it into curry, whereon the king of the fish solemnly cursed him and he and all his pack-bullocks were turned into rocks which may be seen there till this day. At Sivarátri a festival occurs at the little thatched shrine near by (the pújári at which is a Bagata) and part of the ritual consists in feeding the sacred fish.