The annual pilgrimage of thousands of devotees to the faraway Cave of Amarnath, situated in a glacial gorge of the Western Himalayas, through some of the finest scenery in the world, has a fascination of its own. One is struck with wonder at the quiet and orderly way in which a canvas town springs up with incredible rapidity at every halting-place, with its tents of various colours, shapes, and sizes; with its bazaars and broad thoroughfares running through the middle — and all vanishing as quickly at dawn the next morning, when the whole army of cheerful pilgrims sets out on the march again. The glow of countless cooking fires; the ash-smeared sadhus under their large Gerua umbrellas with shafts stuck in the ground, some discussing, others meditating, before their Dhuni-fires; the sannyasis of many orders in their distinctive garbs; the devout faces of the men, women, and children from all parts of the country in their own styles of dress; the torches flickering at night; the blowing of conchs and horns; the singing of hymns and chanting of prayers in chorus — all 'these combined to convey an impression of the overmastering passion of the Indians for religion.
Taught as he was by Shri Ramakrishna, the Swami, in common with his fellow-disciples, would zealously observe those customs and rules of conduct that had become consecrated through the ages by the faith of millions. Thus while conducting religious worship, or initiating a disciple into Sannyasa, he would see that all the necessary materials were satisfactory in every detail and had been made ready; and he would see that the offering and the chanting of Mantras were done strictly in accordance with scriptural injunctions. While on pilgrimage he would do everything in the same devout way as the most simple-minded woman about him. He would bathe in the holy waters, offer flowers, fruits, and sweets to the object of worship before breaking his fast, make obeisance by prostrating himself on the ground, tell his beads, make ritual circumambulation, and the rest. It was the Swami's habit to make himself one with everybody in the observance of customs and rites. And so, on this pilgrimage he was to be found practising austerities with zeal and devotion, eating one meal a day, cooked in the orthodox fashion, seeking solitude and silence as far as was possible, telling his beads, and devoting much time to meditation in his tent.