A NATIVE DOG-FANCIER. ■ 221 



Now we are going to be in tents again I thought I 

 should like to have a clog of my own. It is so sad to 

 hear them barking in the village all round, and miss the 

 yelp of one's own particular cur. Rahman, in whom I 

 confided, declared there was no difficulty, and promised 

 me a choice of every English breed. As yet the only 

 result is a man who persecutes me with two little hybrid 

 nondescripts. He tells me they are bull-dogs fresh from 

 England, but as they have the coat of a retriever, the 

 ears of a fox-terrier, and the nose of a greyhound, I feel 

 slightly sceptical. His price was thirty rupees each. To- 

 night he returns, and acknowledges he has made a mistake. 

 They are spaniels, and he will take one rupee for the two. 

 It may have been a bargain, but I preferred my rupee. 



Wednesday. — Three large bullock-carts containing our 

 tents and luggage were started off at daybreak for Khera — 

 our first march on the way to Muttra. We followed about 

 eight o'clock, riding the Tehsildar's horses. A few miles 

 along the road, the water percolating from the canal has 

 formed a jheel, on which were large numbers of the small 

 blue teal, and a few duck. The marshy water has no reeds 

 or cover of any kind, and the teal were difficult to approach, 

 but we managed to shoot sufficient for the pot. 



We passed several herds of antelope, but all does, or 

 very young bucks. At last, standing on some low sandhills, 

 we saw one with a fine pair of horns, his coat glistening in 



