PASSAGE DOWN THE GANGES. 229 
parts. Nothing can prove their poverty more strikingly ; the article is 
about the size of a very large cheese, it has a bamboo snout, and is alto- 
gether a great curiosity. At the fairs I occasionally pick up beads, worn 
when under a vow or by the Brahmins, boxes, and such like, and all 
the gums and drugs I can procure. The number of the latter are 
legion, and I am puzzled how to set about collecting. I have got 
samples of about 250 kinds, with the Hindoo name on each; when | 
can, I write the Hindoo name in English and also in Persian, which 
character alone is to be relied upon, as the Hindoo wants yowels, and 
will admit of much ambiguity in pronunciation. I take to the fair or 
market, a lot of seed-papers, and make the merchant write the name 
outside in Hindoo; afterwards I take any opportunity of having this 
transcribed to English or Persian. Much of what I send is perfect 
rubbish, no doubt, and I had to consider my means in purchasing ; 
hence a small sample may imply, either that I could not afford to buy 
more (as is the case of the kernel of the double Cocoa-nut) or that it was 
only worth purchasing the stuff for the sake of obtaining the name, and 
knowing it to be used in medicine (as the three dates, and many speci- 
mens of dirt). Of the cultivated grains, I also have got all I could; 
some may grow, as Dhal, Gram, &c., (probably none of the medicinal 
seeds will); others are only as prepared for use by the natives: as 
the split Dhal, prepared Rice. Of the Rice in ear, none is on the 
ground at this season, and I have procured small samples of each bon 
great difficulty, chiefly from a Mr. Roberts at Ningapore: there ar 
heads (ears) of twenty-six kinds, some of great beauty, and very different 
from one another, they will look well on paper in the museum. 
number of things still to be bought at every market is infinite, and 1 
shall go on amassing ; but I have been only two months here now, and 
cannot bargain properly: it also takes a great deal of time. 
The gale of this morning (March 18th) still continues and has 
become a dust-storm; the horizon is about twenty yards off, and 
ashy white with clouds of sand, the trees hardly visible, and every 
thing here in my boat covered with a fine coat of impalpable powder, 
which collects from the boundless alluvial plains through which the 
Ganges flows. Trees are scarcely discernible, and so dry is the wind that 
drops of water vanish like magic. What Cryptogamie could stand 
the transition from parching like this to the three months' floods at 
midsummer, when the country, for miles, will be under water! 
