upright statue of Buddha. When undamaged this must have been forty-one feet high. The top of the head was at some time wantonly broken, the rest fell in a monsoon rain, and one crystal eye was found, minus its pupil, in the rubbish below. But the chief glory of Demala once lay in its fresco paintings, with which the walls were literally covered. "All else was-by the latest architect -subordinated to providing the fullest wall-space for the display of paintings intended to cover every inch of surface, perhaps to the very soffit of the vaulted roof." In 1885 Mr. Burrows unearthed the vestibule and found some of these paintings. Those farther inside were laid bare in 1909. These paintings represent stories from the Jataka tales of the Bodhisavata and legends of Buddha's temple in Ceylon :

"Never was a greater wealth of exquisitely painted scenes from the Buddhist legend ever presented than at this medieval viharé of Polonnaruwa . . . here set down in coloured fresco with a naturalness, spirit and technique that tell the story with unerring fidelity. There are paintings still left at Demala-maha-seya which rival some of the best in the cave temples at Ajanta!" (1909 Report.)

The general tints, as is usual, are orange and red, but here and there these are supplemented by a pale greenish-blue, which tint is used, as at Sigiriya, to represent darker people, such as attendants. The Cingalese, like the Burmese, judging from their paintings, picture themselves

as a light-skinned race, though not with so much

reason.

Of all the stories, that of the hare (the coming Buddha in that form) is probably most familiar to Europeans. The hare having nought else to give to the hungry wayfarer, offered her own body, and to glorify the feat the figure of the hare “ appears in the moon's disc in the sky as a reflected image shines in a silver mirror." The representation of this tale is on the south wall.

A full account of the frescoes, with the stories they tell, is to be found in the 1909 Report.

This temple is not mentioned in the Mahawansa. Experts think that the original construction may be assigned to Wijaya Bahu I (A.D. 1065), grandfather of Parakrama I, but this is merely judging from the style of ornamentation of the outer walls. These are as rich in ornament as those of Jetawanarama, and contrast with the comparative simplicity of Thuparama. Though of Hindu design, the temple was Buddhist, as is shown by the statue and fresco decoration.

Not very far to the south of the Lotus Bath, and east of the path, is a huge, shapeless mass, once a dagaba; this is called to-day Unagala Vehera, but Mr. Bell says that this is the true Demalamaha-seya, the largest dagaba of all, 1,300 cubits round about," a Ceylon builder's cubit being equal to 2 feet. This dagaba was built by Parakrama; the name Damilo corrupted to Demala embodies the fact that Tamils who had been taken prisoners were employed upon its construction.

These three great fanes, Thuparama, Jetawan

arama, and Demala, though Hindu in architecture, are thus Buddhist shrines, but there are numerous smaller temples at Polonnaruwa which are Hindu both in architecture and reality. Of these we have already seen Siva Devalé Nos. 1 and 2. But away out on a promontory projecting into Topa Wewa, not far from the main road, are many others, more or less in a state of ruin. They lie between the groups containing Jetawanarama and Thuparama, and, being so accessible, can be visited any time. Some of them are erected to the honour of Vishnu, and stand side by side with those to Siva. A full account of these small temples and the work done on them will be found in the 1908 Report.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE BEAUTY OF THE BUND

WHATEVER penalty there may be to suffer in the way of heat, it is certain that sometimes those who sit in the rest-house verandah at Polonnaruwa must condone the sins of the P.W.D., for the view is worth much suffering. The length of the silver-blue lake stretches out toward the central hills, sometimes cobalt in colouring, but in uncertain weather deep indigo and smoke-grey. On one side the flat green pastures show up the feeding herds, and on the other the thick jungle growth is the home of innumerable happy wild creatures. Between the verandah and the water the ground breaks away sharply, dropping to broken rocks and a tangle of huge stones and bushes. The interval is the theatre for a surprising amount of life. There are small chaffinch-like birds with crested heads, who live in the eaves, and when they fly expand their tails into white fans, while an unexpected flash of red springs out from under their wings. In the fine whip-like bushes on the very edge of the verandah are tiny little birds, no bigger than wrens, but with fine pointed heads and long beaks, so delicately made they look as if they would easily slip through a finger-ring. They are not nearly so large as the

great velvet-winged butterflies, black, white, and red, with huge bodies, which are seen in myriads, or the still larger and much less common fellow, pure black and white, with an undulating flight easily to be mistaken for a bird. The long-tailed fly-catcher, or "Bird of Paradise," of the terracotta variety, is fairly common, and his hue is matched almost exactly in the under-wing of a grass-green bird about the size of a starling, which appears in flocks. To relieve the greens and reds there are numbers of the kingfisher and the laughing jackass species, showing marvellous hues of iridescent blue. So tiny are some of the kingfishers, that the sparkling speck of blue appearing and disappearing seems an illusion, while others are large with orange waistcoats. Looking down sternly on this revel of the fairies may be a hawk or kite, with sober brown coat and white shirtfront, as rigid as the dead bough on which he sits, with only his brilliant staring eyes ever turning like wheels in his motionless head as he glances this way and that. But these are only a few species that strike the eye of the least observant; doubtless many other varieties could be added by any one accustomed to watch bird-life, and having some knowledge of the ornithology of Ceylon.

Staring idly at the kaleidoscopic changes of colour one day, I caught sight of something like big lizards chasing each other over the bare rocks near the water, just about the place which the population of Polonnaruwa chooses for its Sunday afternoon ablutions. "Baby crocs!" said an inhabitant beside me. 'The tank swarms with the brutes. No, they're not big enough to be really