Diary of a Pedestrian In Cashmere and Thibet | Page 8

coachman, here
pointing to a dirty board, above his head, triumphantly announced the
"Punch Gur!" Hot and thirsty, we got out, with visions of rest and
cooling sherbets, too soon to be dispelled. Passing through long dirty
halls, and up unsavoury steps, we at last reached a sort of court, with
beds of sickly flowers, never known to bloom, and from thence issued
to a suite of musty hot Moorish-looking rooms, with gold-inlaid
dust-covered tables, and a heavily-draped four-post bedstead, the very
sight of which, in such a climate, was almost enough to deprive one of
sleep for ever. Our speech forsook us, and without waiting to remark
whether the lady of the house was an ogress, or possessed of a
"rose-coloured body" and face like the full moon, we fairly turned tail,
and drove in all haste to our despised dak bungalow, where, meekly
and with softened feelings towards that edifice, we were glad to deposit
ourselves on a couple of charpoys, or "four-legs," as the bedstead of
India is called, and endeavour to sleep the best way we could. "Delhi,"
we found, quite kept up its reputation of being the hottest place in India.
All idea of sight-seeing was out of the question, and the whole of our
energies we were obliged to expend in endeavouring to keep
moderately cool.

After enjoying the two first of blessings in a hot climate -- viz. a
plentiful supply of cold water and a change of raiment, we felt
ourselves able to undergo the exertion of meeting the traditional grilled
fowl at breakfast, and of inspecting the curiosities from the bazaars. At
the first wish on the latter subject, we were invaded by a crowd of
bundle-carrying, yellow-turbaned, rascally merchants, who, in half a
minute, had the whole of their goods on the floor -- rings, brooches,
ivory ornaments, and inutilities of all sorts and kinds, all of them
exorbitantly dear, and none of any real value.
We left Delhi again at about six P.M., after loitering about the city for a
short time, among the teeming bazaars, some parts of which were
picturesque and "Eastern" enough. Outside the city walls, the country
was ruined and dilapidated in the extreme; demolished houses and
wasted gardens telling their tale of the loss of Delhi, and our struggle
for its recapture.
MAY 26. -- During the night, we got over seventy-three miles, and
reached "Kurnaul" at seven A.M. The bungalow we found unusually
comfortable, being a remnant of the old regime, and one of the few
which escaped from the hands of the rebels during the mutiny.
The country here begins to improve in appearance -- more trees and
cultivation on all sides; and the natives appear finer specimens than
their more southern relations. The irrigation, too, seems to be carried on
with more systematic appliances than further south -- the water being
raised by the Persian wheel, and bullock-power introduced in aid of
manual labour.
MAY 27. -- Arrived at Umballa at three A.M., and found the staging
bungalow full. The only available accommodation being a spare
charpoy in the verandah, F. took a lease of it, while I revelled in the
unaccustomed roominess of the entire carriage, and slept till six, when
we got into our lodgings. Although so near the foot of the Himalayas,
the weather was so oppressive here that exploring was out of the
question; and at six P.M., changing our carriage for palankeens, or
dolies, we commenced a tedious and dusty journey to the village of
"Kalka," the veritable "foot of the hills," where we were met by a string
of deputies from the different "DRY-LODGINGS" in the
neighbourhood, soliciting custom. The first house we came to was
guarded by an unmistakeable English hotel-keeper, of some eighteen

stone; and so terrible was the appearance she presented, with her arms
akimbo, rejoicing in her mountain air, that in our down-country and
dilapidated condition, we felt quite unequal to the exertion of stepping
into HER little parlour; and passing her establishment -- something in
the small bathingplace-style of architecture -- we went on to the next,
very much of the same order, and called the "Brahminee Bull." Here, to
my dismay however, standing in the selfsame position, weighing the
same number of stone, and equally confident in the purity of her air as
her neighbour, stood another female "Briton," with the
come-into-my-parlour expression of countenance, regarding us as prey.
Under the circumstances, exhausted nature gave in; though saved from
Scylla, our destiny was Charybdis, and we accordingly surrendered
ourselves to a wash, breakfast, and the Brahminee Bull. During the day,
we had a visit from a friend and ex-brother officer, whom we had
promised to stay with, at "Kussowlie," on our road up. Kalka was not
HOT, but GRILLING, so that