over my bed and across my throat, and did not the least care for my trying to catch him. We came on early this morning, and my head is beginning to improve.

Fir Tree Bungalow, Friday, Nov. 1.

F. and G. and P. arrived to breakfast to-day, and this afternoon we all go down to our deplorable tents. There is a distant view of Simla from this place, and very pretty it looks. Giles is taking a sentimental farewell of it through a telescope, and lamenting over his lost garden: 'But one comfort, ma'am, is that I have brought away my favourite gardener to look after your pheasants.' I am trying to carry down to Calcutta some of the Himalayan pheasants, to be shipped off to your Charlie, the moment we

arrive.

They are such beautiful creatures, the whole bird of bronzed blue, like the breast of a peacock, except the tail and wings, which are of a reddish brown, and they have a bright green tuft on their heads. I have had some of them two months, and they have grown tame, but at first, they are very apt to die of fright. Yesterday, when I took up the last new one to feed it,

it fainted away and died soon after. However, I still have five, and they have a snug little house, carried by two men, and a little tent of netting, which is pitched in front of it when we halt, so that they may run in and out without being touched. Every precaution is taken, but still there will be many a slip between this pheasant cup and Charlie's lip, I am afraid.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Pinjore, Sunday, Nov. 3, 1839. YES! we are in for it now. All the old discomfort, and worse; for we left the nice autumnal air blowing at the Fir Tree, with the fern waving and the trees looking red, and brown, and green, and beautiful-and now we are in all our old camel-dust and noise, the thermometer at 90° in the tents, and the punkah going. We received the officers of the escort and their wives, after church, which was hot work, but I am rather glad we have so many ladies in camp, it makes it pleasanter for the gentlemen, and at the different stations it is very popular. Last year there were only F. and me. In ten days, when we shall have a fresh cavalry regiment, there will be at least twenty, and about twelve of them dancers, which is lucky, for we hear of an awful number of balls in prospect.

They were a ladylike set that we saw to-day; one of them a striking likeness of you-a thing

that I deny to everybody else, but still I do see it; and perhaps it is better than nothing.

Munny Majra, Monday, Nov. 4.

We began riding part of the march to-day, and the horses go very well, considering they have had a rest for seven months. My horse is such an angel! I really like him with a sort of minor Chance sentiment.

Umballa, Thursday, Nov. 7. E. N. and Mr. G. met us this morning, and rode in with us, and in the afternoon we went to see E. N.'s house, which he has furnished very nicely, quite in his mother's style.

A Captain B. arrived from Cabul, with one or two others, and are to march with us to Kurnaul. They all deny the report of the army ever having suffered further distress than a want of wine and cigars, and they are all looking uncommonly fat.

Captain D., of G.'s body-guard, brought back three of the sheep with which he left us last year, and the 16th are bringing back in safety their pack of fox-hounds. That does not look like having undergone great privation. Captain B. brought me two shawls from Sir W. C., very

pretty ones, at least we should have thought them so, before we were spoiled by plenty.

Shah-i-bad.

Mrs. B. arrived last night to meet her husband. She did not know he was come, so she went straight to E. N.'s bungalow-the usual method with ladies travelling dâk—and he found her there, when he went home from dinner.

He said, he had given up the house to her and gone into a tent, and that the two little children had arrived with their dear little stomachs much discomposed by the journey, and had spoilt the sofa whose cover I had admired in the morning.

This was the place where I bought my little girls last year, and it is a curious coincidence, that their nominal father, who went to the Punjâb and took service with Shere Singh, has left him, and arrived at this place last night, found Rosina's tent, woke her up in the middle of the night, and the little girls too, and cried and sobbed and kissed the children, and

have them back again.

wanted very much to

They are so afraid he

will carry them off, that they will not lose sight of Rosina for a moment. Shere Singh gave this