After half an hour's march, the procession halted near a clump of plantains, in front of a structure more ambitious than any of those in the neighborhood.

A female, laden with rude ornaments, was standing at the door.

This lady, who rivalled the celebrated Daniel Lambert in dimensions, would have created quite a _furore_ at Bartholomew Fair; according to Jack, she was so amazingly fat, that it would have taken full five minutes to walk round her.

She took the Pilot respectfully by the hand, and led him into the interior of the building, which was crowded with images of various forms, and was evidently a temple.
Willis, at a sign from his conductress, seated himself in a chair, raised on a dais, and surmounted by a terrific figure similar to the one already described, but draped in white feathers instead of red.
The fat lady, or rather the high priestess--for she was the reigning potentate in this magazine of idols--took a sucking pig that was held by one of the priests.

After muttering a prayer or homily of some sort, she strangled the poor animal, and returned it to the priest.