DHOOLIA-THE LIEUTENANT.

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the verandahs and open doors I caught glimpses of elegant furniture and pictures within, and once a female figure glided past. I had fancied India to be a place of exile, but nothing could be more cheerful and homelike than these residences. The sepoys were drawn up on the parade-ground for evening review, and a most soldierly appearance they made. We drove to the post-office, and as I had not time to take dinner, I accepted the services of a Portuguese who spoke English, and who offered to procure me supplies for the road. He obtained some biscuits, boiled some eggs, and made me a bottle of strong tea, but refused to accept of the slightest pay for his services.

Thus supplied, I entered on the third night of my journey. It was somewhat cloudy and dark, and I could only observe that our road lay over the same wide uplands, except for a few miles, when passing the Lulling Ghaut. The way was rough and stony, and the thumps I received kept me from falling into the road through drowsiness. An hour past midnight I reached the military station of Dhoolia, 215 miles from Bombay, and was not sorry when the driver informed me that he should go no further that night. Off I started for the bungalow, and on reaching it, was surprised to find the rooms lighted, and a man in English dress on the verandah. He held a small lantern before him, which prevented my seeing his face. "Is this the travellers' bungalow?" I asked. He said nothing, but threw the light of the lamp full upon my face, held it there a few moments, and then cried out: "Why, you're a traveller! Yes. Come in. It's full, but I'll make room for you. I'm just taking a cup of tea will you take tea, or beer, or brandy-and-water? Itchoglan!

bring tea!" There was no resisting such a rapid welcome, and before I had time to put in a word of explanation, I was seated on one end of the table, drinking a cup of tea with the Lieutenant, for such he proved to be. Meanwhile, he was giving orders on all sides. One servant ran for a bedstead; another for a pillow; a third for a quilt. "I'll make you comfortable," said he; "you didn't expect such rough times, did you now? You thought India was like England, didn't you? That's the way. But you want to go to bed. Here, let my servants pull off your boots, and help you undress. You never did that in England, you know, and you won't know how to go about it." And so he ran on, what length of time I cannot tell, for I no sooner lay down, than I fell fast asleep.

I was awakened at sunrise by his servant, with a cup of tea and a plate of biscuit. The Lieutenant walked with me to the Post-Office, and as the cart was not ready, took me to the bungalow of some other officers, who immediately invited me to breakfast. The conversation was so exclusively military, that I did not feel much interested in it. So-and-so, of the 99th, was going to sell out; such-a-one, of "Ours," had applied for two months' leave, etc. Presently the cart came, and I took a cordial leave of them all. The road, after leaving Dhoolia, became indescribably bad. brown loam, which, after the rains, had been terribly cut up by the heavy bullock-carts, and was now hard and dry. Our horse stumbled slowly along over the ruts, a groom leading him by the head. The country was crossed by deep nullas, or gulleys, many of which were very difficult to pass. The scenery presented no new features, except a singular isolated

The soil was a soft

A BREAK DOWN IN THE JUNGLE.

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Beyond this

hill, resembling a fortress, near Soongheer. point it was mostly hilly jungle, with few habitations. During the afternoon, we passed three elephants, which were standing in the shade of a large peepul tree, motionless as if hewn out of basaltic rock.

It was already two o'clock, and we had only proceeded about twenty miles from Dhoolia, when the axle suddenly snapped under the repeated jolts, and I was thrown into the road. I escaped with a slight bruise, and sat down in the jungle to await the issue. As I could neither give nor take suggestions, I was silent; but I had with me that exhaustless fountain of patience, a pipe, and soon attained a mood of cheerful indifference as to what might happen. The driver took out the baggage and packages, and sat down with them on the opposite side of the road; the groom took the horse and galloped off. An hour passed by; two hours; and still we sat in silence, watching the procession of Hindoos, Moslems, bullocks, ponies and camels that came and went between us. At last a bullock-cart dashed up on a fast trot, the baggage was packed upon it, I took my seat and away we went, leaving the broken banghy-cart in the road. Was that the last of it? the reader may ask. We shall see.

We reached a place called Seerpore, at dusk, our brave bullocks having made ten miles in two hours. I had supper, a good night's rest, and breakfast, and there was still no sign of the cart. The messman, who was very civil and attentive, informed me that it would be mended by noon. Meanwhile, there was I, I knew not precisely where. I could not find the place on the map. That it was in India I was certain, because there was a handsome Hindoo temple close be

side the bungalow, and before the temple an immense banyan tree, and under the banyan tree two elephants. I made a sketch of the scene, as a memorial of the adventure.

At last a native entered, and with a profound salaam, said: "Sahib banghy-cart taiyar hai" (Sir, the banghy-cart is ready).

CHAPTER VI.

THE BANGHY-CART, CONCLUDED-INDORE.

Departure from Seerpore-Another Break-down-A Crippled Cart-Palasnehr-Indian Horses and Drivers-Jungle-The Banyan Tree-The Tamarind-The Natives of the Jungle-Military Salutations-The Town of Sindwah-Tokens of Decay-The Sindwah Jungles-A Dilemma-The Vindhya Mountains-The Station of MhowArrival at Indore-The Town-The Rajah's Palace-The Rajah and his HistoryHis Tastes-Hindoo Temples and their Worshippers-The English Residency--Cold Weather.

Ir was not without some misgivings that I again took my seat in the banghy-cart, and left the place called Seerpore. I was now entering the Sindwah jungles, a desolate region, swarming with tigers, and so unhealthy that from the end of July to the first of January it is impassable. In case of accident there must be detention, and detention in such a case is fraught with danger. However, "nothing venture, nothing win," is the traveller's true maxim. We thumped and bumped along in the noonday heat, making about two miles an hour, and had proceeded five miles, when I saw the axle (which I had been watching) suddenly give way again. I jumped out in time to avoid the crash, and once more took my soat in the jungle, in the shade of a thorny bush. The groom