SIS PERTAB SINGH. 323 



cellent luncheon in the train, cooked by Sir Pertab's servants 

 in the guard's van. They clambered along the footboard 

 to our carriage to serve each course. All the time the 

 train was steaming on its way, although the pace was not 

 very alarming — barely twelve miles an hour. 



Sir Pertab Singh met us at Jodhpore, and took us to one 

 of his houses. After he left, Major Beatson, to whom we 

 had a letter of introduction, and several others, came to call. 

 Jodhpore is an extraordinary-looking country. There are no 

 rivers or lakes, and the only water to be seen is in an 

 artificial reservoir. Neither are there any trees, nor any 

 cultivation visible from our house, and the landscape all 

 around is flat and bare. The country looks like a Sahara, 

 only broken by two or three tall, red brick houses, which 

 stand out of the white dusty plain with startling abruptness. 

 Behind the city is the ancient rock fortress. And evervthino- 

 — castle, city, plain — looks as if it had been distempered with 

 a light wash of yellow ochre. 



I believe the climate is healthy ; and no doubt habit is 

 second nature, for one of the English officers told me that he 

 felt stifled in a city after having lived on these open plains. 

 The streets and houses of London seemed to him a prison, 

 and he longed again for the air and space of Jodhpore. 



Wild boars are very numerous, and of late years Jodhpore 

 has become famous for its pig-sticking, owing to Sir Pertab 

 Singh's encouragement of this and indeed every kind of 



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