Diary of a Pedestrian In Cashmere and Thibet | Page 7

generally attaches himself to each wheel;
the driver, from a post of vantage, belabours the miserable horse with
all his might and main; the Q.M.G. takes a firm hold of the rails on the
roof; and all shouting, grunting, and using bad language together, away
we go at full gallop, if we are in unusual luck, for about 300 yards.
Then comes a dead stop: the same operation commences again, and so
on, until the animal is sufficiently far from his last stable to be able to
look forward with some confidence to the one ahead, and resigns
himself to circumstances accordingly. One peculiarity in this peculiar
country we found to be, that in putting our steed-to, the English custom
is reversed. The cart is "put-to," not the horse; and the latter being left
standing anywhere on the road, the lumbering "garee" is dragged up to
his tail, and fastened up with a combination of straps and ropes,
marvellous to behold.
MAY 23. -- To-day we arrived at "Etawah," where we found a very
comfortable little staging bungalow, but no supplies of either beer or

butter procurable. On the road in the early morning there were herds of
deer and antelope in sight, but time being precious we left them
unmolested.
As yet very little change makes its appearance in the character of the
country. Level plains, with patches of trees, mango and palm, as far as
the eye can reach, and everywhere dust, dust, dust! The palm-trees,
however, with toddy parties scattered about among them, serve to make
the scene look cheerful, and, for an eastern one, comparatively lively.
In the evening we again took the road, with a hot wind blowing
strongly and steadily, and before long we were overtaken by a
dust-storm, which completely enveloped us in its murky folds, and
interfered with our happiness a good deal. Got through the night much
as usual, with the addition of a midnight vocal entertainment, which
some hundreds of wolves and jackals treated us to, while the
"authorities" were looking to our welfare, by taking off and greasing
our wheels. Of travellers we meet but few, generally bullock-train
parties, with soldiers, &c., return daks, and an occasional old
Mussulman, or other native, taking advantage of the early morning for
his journey, and wrapped and swaddled up as if afraid of being
congealed by the coolness of the morning air.
Every day's journey leaves one more and more at a loss to discover the
sources of the wealth of this enormous country. The soil, for miles and
miles a dead flat, is now barren as a desert, and we meet hardly a sign
of active traffic. During the night we certainly did encounter a long
train of heavily-laden bullock-waggons; but the merchandize was
gunpowder, and its destination was up, instead of down the road.
MAY 24. -- Arrived at "Kurga," where we found neither bread nor
butter forthcoming -- nothing but -- "plenty fowl, Sahib!" In the
evening we again encountered a heavy dust-storm, the worst of the
season; the whole night it continued to blow in our teeth; and between
the fierce dryness of the wind and the searching particles of dust, which
visited us without ceremony, we spent anything but an agreeable night.
At three A.M. we reached the "Hingus Nuddee," or river; and changing
our solitary horse for two fat bullocks, we crossed its sandy bed, and
over a bridge of boats -- not so genteelly, perhaps, but much more
securely, than we could have otherwise done. There were the remains
here of a handsome suspension bridge; but the chains had been cut by

the rebel Sepoys, and nothing but the pillars now remained.
MAY 25. -- At four A.M. we crossed the bridge of boats over the
Jumna, and found ourselves under the gloomy battlements of the Fort
of Delhi.
Entering by the Calcutta Gate, we drove through large suburbs, lighted
up with rows of oil lamps, reminding one, in the dim light, a good deal
of Cairo. Arriving at the dak bungalow, we found it such a dirty
looking deserted building, and the interior so much of a piece with the
exterior, that we mounted again, and set off to try the Hotel, or
"Pahunch Ghur," -- a name originally intended to convey the meaning
"An arriving house," but neatly and appropriately corrupted into the
term "Punch Gur," which speaks for itself, and troubles no one much
about its derivation. We were rather disappointed with the general
appearance of the city: dirt and grandeur were closely combined, and
the combination gave the usual impression of shabby genteelness in
general, not at first sight prepossessing. After driving through what
might have been an Eastern Sebastopol, from the amount of ruin about,
we reached a cut-throat-looking archway; and the