PASSAGE DOWN THE GANGES. 227 
‘fields (now cleared of their crops) are the staple products of the 
country. Bushes are few, except the universally prevalent Argemone 
Mexicana and the Calotropis. "Trees, also, are rare, and of stunted 
growth, Fici, the Artocarpus and some Leguminose prevail most. I have 
seen but two kinds of Palm, the Toddy Palm, and a Pheniz: the latter 
is characteristic of the driest locality. "Then, for the animal creation, 
men and women and children abound, both on the banks, and plying 
up and down the Ganges. The Sacred Cow (of which the buffalo, 
called Bhil, is used for draught) is common. Camels we occasionally 
observe, and more rarely the elephant ; ponies, goats, and dogs muster 
strong. Porpoises and alligators infest the river, even above Benares. 
Flies and mosquitoes are terrible pests; and so is an odious insect, the 
flying bug, which infests my cabin at night, and insinuates itself be- 
tween one's skin and clothes, diffusing a dreadful odour, which is 
increased by any attempt to touch or remove it. In the evening it is 
impossible to keep the insects out of the boat, and hinder their putting 
the lights out ; and of these the most intolerable is the above-mentioned 
flying-bug. Saucy crickets, too, swarm, and spring up at your face; 
whilst mosquitoes maintain a constant guerilla warfare, that tries the 
patience no less than the nerves. Thick webs of the gossamer spider - 
float across the river, during the heat of the day, really as coarse as 
fine thread, and being almost inhaled, they keep tickling the nose and 
li 
ps. 
The native boat which I now occupy is not unlike a floating hay- 
stack, or thatched cottage: its length is forty feet, and breadth fifteen, 
and it draws a foot and a half of water: the deck, on which a kind of 
house, neatly framed of matting, is erected, is but a little above the 
water’s edge. My portion of this floating residence is lined with a 
kind of reed-work, formed of long culms of Saccharum. The crew and 
captain amount to six naked Hindoos, one of whom steers by the huge 
rudder, sitting on a bamboo-stage astern; the others pull four oars in 
the very bows opposite my door, or track the boat along the river-bank. 
I have two servants, one, my factotum (Friday), alias Clamanze; and a 
mussulman, a table-attendant, who cooks and waits, is a handsome thin 
fellow, called Thirkahl. In my room (for cabin I cannot bring myself 
to call it) is my Palkee, in which I sleep, and to which Clamanze has 
fitted musquito curtains, a chair and table, at which I now write, and 
on it stands my compass and a huge pummalow, as big as a child’s head, 
